Beatlemania!

“Alice wait!” Pattie called to me.

I had been silent on the ride home, but now I wanted to scream and run. I ran inside my flat and shut the door, letting the tears spill over.

I don’t know why I was so surprised. I hadn’t been giving Paul enough attention to satisfy him, so he went somewhere he could get what he needed.

He said he would try and make this “one girl” thing work. And he did. He hung on for as long as he could.
~

“Are you sure you want to go, Alice?” Ringo asked uncertainly.

John was getting lonely in Spain, and Ringo had sportingly agreed to fly out to visit him, even though he really wanted to spend some time with Maureen.

“Yes I’m sure! I’m off work now, and I could use a trip,” I admitted. I was one week into ignoring Paul’s calls and avoiding him. I’m not even sure he knew why I was doing it.
“Well if you’re sure. . .” Ritchie trailed off.
I smiled. “Really, I am. I just want to get out of here for a few weeks. I’ll see you next year, Rings.”

Ringo left my apartment full of apprehension, but he needn’t have worried. I was packed in under ten minutes, and Ringo had already given me the ticket he was going to use.

The plane was set to leave in two hours, so I had to run to the car that had been sent for me (it was just a good old taxi) and I told the driver to please hurry up.

I had forgotten that all the paparazzi that had been expecting Ringo were waiting at the airport. And instead of a Beatle, they run into Paul McCartney’s alleged ex-girlfriend.!

“Miss Westwood, is it true you’re leaving England for good?”
“How are things with you and Paul, Alice?”
“Are you and John together now?”
“Where are you going?”
“Where’s Ringo?”
“Who are you?”
“What?”

I kept my mouth shut tightly until I boarded the plane safely and buckled my seatbelt. I breathed deep breaths. I was suddenly glad that first class was all but empty. There were some old ladies in the front, and one lone man lounging in the back with his daughter next to him, muttering in Spanish to her.

“Can I get you anything?” the petite flight attendant smiled at me.
I shook my head. “Not just yet, thanks.”

She nodded understandingly and went on to ask the man in the back.

“A newspaper, perhaps?” his Spanish accent was intriguing.

I turned around to take a peek at him, and he caught me gawping at him. I blushed madly, averting my eyes quickly. I lifted my eyes for a millisecond to see him laughing, winking at me and then return to his daughter.

I was thoroughly embarrassed, but thankfully the plane took its spot on the runway, and I was free to look out the window.

Once an airplane is airborne, the flight suddenly gets boring. The flight was barely two hours long, but time went dreadfully slowly.

The little Spanish girl was very friendly, and approached me, toddling, a few times before she fell asleep. Once she did, her dad moved up a few seats to say hello.

“Como estas?” he asked in a quiet voice.
I knew enough Spanish to answer that one. “Muy bien, pero no hablo mucho espanol.”
The man looked relatively surprised. “You are not from Spain?”
“No, I’m actually from London,” I replied sheepishly.
He frowned. “Your accent does not sound London.”
“Well I lived in New York for many years,” I admitted.

His face broke into a smile. “Ah, Nueva York. I have been there also. It is a beautiful city.”
I shrugged. “That depends on your point of view.”
“Senorita, we have talked for a while without knowing the other’s name,” he smiled smoothly.
I blushed again. “I’m Alice. Who are you?”
“Antonio Velasquez. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you, senor. How old is your daughter?” I asked conversationally.
“She is going on three. What about yourself?” his brown eyes were teasing me.
I laughed lightly. “Why Antonio! A lady never reveals her age.”
“I have never met an Englishwoman so full of Spanish fire. How long are you in Spain for, Alice?” Antonio asked.
I smiled coyly. “Not long enough, I’m afraid. My husband doesn’t want to spend too much time apart from me.”

Antonio clasped his hands to his heart. “She is married! God have mercy.”
I giggled. “You too must have a wife; what about your daughter?”
“She is the result of ah... previous engagement,” he hedged.
I took the hint. Antonio and I talked for a while. He was a typical European, flirty and fun.
“Passengers please prepare for landing,” the captain announced.

I playfully glared at Antonio until he retreated back to his seat meekly. I lay back in my seat and closed my eyes. I was relaxed, finally. Paul wasn’t going to ruin my vacation. I was here to have fun.

The plane landed, and I was first off the plane and onto the hot tarmac. It smelled like Spain.
“It was lovely meeting you, Senorita,” Antonio kissed my hand charmingly.

I glanced at his daughter, who was asleep in her pram.

“Same to you, Antonio,” I replied kindly.
“Enjoy your time in Spain! Fall in love, get drunk and married! I managed to.” he winked before walking off.
~

The taxi that had been hailed to take me had kindly put on an English radio station. Paul’s voice leaked out of the speakers singing “Here, There, and Everywhere.” I was crying silently by the time the cabbie pulled over at the filming site.

“Gracias,” I choked out, handing over some money before stumbling out of the car.

I flashed a badge at the security guard and hurried onto the movie set. I wandered around until I spotted John lounging outside a bunker, soaking up sunshine. I wiped my tears away unsuccessfully and ran towards him.

“John,” I called, dumping my bag on the ground and approaching him uncertainly.
His eyes met mine and he popped on some glasses.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me body,” he joked, giving me a quick hug.
“Did nobody tell you I was coming?” I questioned, wondering why he was looking at me so intently.
“Oh they told me you were coming; but nobody mentioned you’d be cryin’ your pretty eyes out,” John explained, wiping a tear from my cheek delicately. “What’s wrong, love?”
I looked away. “Paul cheated on me.”
John paled considerably. “The fuckin’ bugger did what?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. What I do want to talk about is how fantastic you look,” I interjected, running my hands through his now short hair.
“What do you think? It’s for the movie; but I think I like it,” John exclaimed excitedly, pushing his glasses up his nose.
“You look bloody amazing,” I admitted, looking at him properly.

His sexual appeal had gone up by about ten thousand points for me. He seemed taller and older. His face was dusty, probably for the scene he was filming, and his hazel eyes were filled with care.

“Amazing,” I repeated, stepping away from him so as to keep my hormones under control.
“Are you tired? Because tonight we’re going dancin’.”
~

Some of the girls from wardrobe picked me out a Spanish skirt and peasant top to wear to the outdoor fiesta that was happening tonight. I was constantly yanking the top down because it was too short. If I left it alone it would ride up, exposing half of my stomach.

My dark hair was left loose and wavy, and the girls forced make-up on me, including red lipstick that made me feel stupid. Everyone was going barefoot, so shoes were a moot point. Dancing with bare feet in the dirt did have an appeal to it.

“It’s a dance, chica! We all go shoe-less” Rosita, a Spanish make-up artist exclaimed, shaking her hips and twirling a colourful scarf in the air.

The Spanish beauties had re-christened me “Alicia.” I have to admit it sounded a lot more exotic and beautiful than “Alice.”
By seven thirty, it was getting dark. Fairy lights decorated the outskirts of the set, while the heart of the party was a huge bonfire, golden embers sending offerings to the heavens. I was awestruck.

There was unfamiliar Spanish music playing, it was soft, with a violin and not much else. Rosita and three other girls were dancing the flamenco, a slow, sexy dance that made them look really good.

Everybody was so transfixed by the dancing girls that they took a while to respond to the music that picked up after. This music was lively and festive, and everybody was on the dance floor in minutes. I was so used to corporate London that this crazy Spanish heat-filled party intimidated me.

A stranger handed me a beer with a sloppy grin. I was grateful, and by the time I had swallowed down two and a half beers, I was barely tipsy enough to get myself out there, dancing wildly with whoever happened to be nearby.

I almost forgot about John until he came up behind me and placed his hands firmly on my bare waist.

“Jesus!” I yelped, yanking my top down again. “What do you think you’re doing, Lennon?”
“I don’t actually think you’re supposed to tug at your top like that all the time,” he remarked with a sly smile.
“I don’t actually care,” I snapped in return.
John grinned. “Having a nice time, Alice?”
I blushed. “Yes, actually.”
“Well I think a couple more beers and we’ll have you out of that top completely,” he leered at me from under his glasses.
I laughed, tossing my scarf in his face. “Dance with me, Lennon. Just dance with me.”

~

By eleven thirty, the party was winding down, but I was wide awake, and thinking of Paul.

“Alice? I think you’ve had enough,” John attempted to pull a beer from my hand, but I refused to give in.
“Funny coming from you,” I retorted, slurring slightly.
John laughed. “Smart ass. Come on, love. It’s midnight.”
“I don’t care,” I mumbled, downing the rest of my beer eagerly.
“What’s wrong with you, Alice?” John sighed in frustration.
I suddenly plunged into sadness. “He doesn’t care about me, John. He doesn’t give a fuck about me.”

I let John lead me to the cabin that we were sharing. He was kind and gentle, closing his eyes when I insisted I could get changed myself.

When we were both in pyjamas, we sat on my bed and he pulled me into the longest hug we had ever shared. The tears had stopped by now, and I was well aware of John’s strong arms around me. If I just moved my head slightly to the left and looked behind me, we would have been kissing.

The thought of kissing John – properly, not that half-assed one after the first time we met – consumed me, and I felt my body heating up.

“Alice, are you awake?” John asked after a while.

I shut my eyes hurriedly. I’d rather not deal with the things I was feeling. I heard John sigh and gently lay me down on the bed and cover me up.

He kissed my forehead and brushed the hair out of my face. I nearly sat up and kissed him right then and there. I felt my fingers trembling even after I heard him get into his own bed and switch off the light.

Oh Johnny, oh Johnny, how you can love…