Beatlemania!

Recording sessions were different now. They weren’t always together, like the old days. Paul was in one studio, George in another, and John in another.

I made a point to visit each of them, but John and Yoko’s little love bubble drove me away.
George was excited about the new songs he was writing, and we both loved to sit with a cup of tea and whinge about Yoko. Paul often joined us.

Paul’s “Hey Jude” was finished writing, and he played it for John, Yoko, and I one night. I watched John’s expression carefully, searching for anger or even sadness. He glanced at me at the “na na na’s” and gave me a gentle smile.

My heart went out to the misfit of a father, and Paul looked at John anxiously once he had finished playing.

“It’s a great song, mate. Jules would love it,” John nodded brusquely before mumbling something to Yoko and striding out.

Paul looked at me pleadingly. Nodding, I hurried out to catch up to John.

“John!” I called into the hallway.

He was far ahead of me, and I jogged to catch up. When I did, I grabbed his arm and forced him to look at me. He gave no resistance.

“Alice,” John whispered. “I am a fuckin’ terrible father.”

I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him gently.

“You don’t have to be,” I replied cautiously.

“I am just like my useless sod of a dad. I can’t believe...I didn’t know...I didn’t realize what Julian must be feeling until Paul played that song.” John’s eyes were wet.

I kissed his forehead and sighed. “He’ll always love you, John. You just have to show him that you love him.”

Nodding bravely, John got into his car to visit his ex-wife and his son.
~
Meanwhile, the Apple Clothing Boutique was going under. I bit my lip and willed myself not to say, “I told you so.” It was hard, because I desperately wanted to use it as proof for them to listen to me once in a while.

The boutique was a money drain that had once been focused on selling psychedelic, hippy clothing. I had even bought a few things there myself.

However, these days the clothing consisted of Marks and Spencer underwear and ugly frumpy clothing in order to break even. The boys were done.

“Why don’t we just throw all the clothes out?” George suggested jokingly.

“Not a half bad idea, George. But instead of throwing them why don’t we hand them?” John said.

“What? Just give all the clothes away?” Ringo raised his eyebrows incredulously.

“Yeah; why not? We don’t lose anymore money and the public gets their clothes,” John continued.

I cleared my throat. “But you don’t gain anything either.”

John turned his gaze onto me. “We’re Beatles, love. We’re always gaining.”

The four of them laughed. I made a face and slouched into my chair.

Once it was decided, it didn’t take long. The next morning, the crowds gathered and were permitted to take one item home, no costs. People flocked to the white Apple building to get their share of the clothes.

“It’s disgusting,” I remarked to Paul that afternoon. “It’s like they’re vultures, eating up the remains of your company.”

“Oh, stop Alice. You know we weren’t serious about the boutique anyway. We’re first and foremost musicians, love. Not businessmen,” Paul smiled at me genuinely.

The store was cleared out.
~
“Hey Jude” was finished with recording by the beginning of August, and for a while the attention drifted to the blooming Apple company.

Paul had brought in Mary Hopkin, a lovely girl who had recently won a music competition called, “Opportunity Knocks.”

Her new single, “Those Were the Days” had become Apple’s biggest success so far, and Paul was proud that he had brought her in.

There was a big party at the Apple offices that night, and I arrived after work, an hour late.

George greeted me at the door.

“Hello, Alice! Heard the good news about good ol’ Mary, then?” he smiled sloppily.

“Mr. Harrison,” I grinned. “You are sopping drunk.”

“Yessir,” George saluted. “Which reminds me, I need another drink...see you love.”

I ventured into the large building, looking for a friendly face. I found John first, and he was Yoko-free.

“John!” I called out, waving cheerfully.

“Alice,” he smiled carefully, handing me a drink.

I sipped it. He looked out of sorts today.

“What’s the matter?” I looked at him knowingly.

He blinked. “Er...well, Yoko’s out of town...and I feel...half empty, like a part of me is missing too.”

I gulped. “Wow. True love, eh? Well, I’m sorry Yoko’s not here, but perhaps you’d like to get something to eat? You look pale. And skinny.”

“Yes, mother,” John mimicked.

We walked together to the small table of snacks and drinks and I picked out some crisps and even a cheese sandwich and gave it to John to eat.

“So how are the wedding plans coming?” I asked conversationally.

John made a face. “They’re not coming. I feel this is going to be a long engagement, especially with all this shite going on with the White Album.”

I nodded sympathetically, but on the inside I was glowing. I couldn’t bear the think of Yoko as part of our little Beatle group. Mo had once told me that I had my own little circle with the Beatles, but now Yoko was not just encroaching, she had drawn her own little circle with John, and my circle never included Yoko.

I think it was hard for John to balance: the love of his life and the band of his life. I could see the stress in his face in the studio, but I also saw the love in his eyes when he looked at Yoko.

“What about you and Paulie? Shacking up anytime soon?” John winked at me.

I blushed. “Not that I’m aware of.”

“But you want to, eventually,” he persisted.

“Of course!” I insisted. “I love him!”

John smiled energetically. “I know you do.”

I left John to go mingle – and to look for Paul. I didn’t find him, but I did find the star of the party – Mary Hopkin herself.

I bumped into her unintentionally and I turned to apologize.

“I’m so sorry – oh! Mary, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Alice Westwood,” I introduced myself.

Her blue eyes lit up in recognition and she smiled.

“Are you perhaps the Alice that Paul doesn’t shut up about?” she asked.

“Well I hope so,” I joked, offering her a smile in return.

“It’s great to finally meet you! Paul says you’re tight with all the Beatles – lucky girl!” Mary laughed, sipping her drink.

“You don’t know the half of it! But congratulations on your record! I think it’s great,” I praised her.

Her cheeks grew red. “Thank you! I’m ever so excited, yet Paul seems to be even more excited than I am!”

I laughed along with her. “Well after that boutique fiasco I just think he’s happy to see some success.”

Mary and I exchanged phone numbers and she promised to call me soon for lunch. I grinned at the prospect of having a new friend; Lucy had been hard to catch up with, especially with a baby in the house.
~
I woke up a week later to the phone ringing incessantly. Paul groaned and covered his ears with the pillow, so I rose unsteadily to answer the phone.

“Hello?” I yawned.

“Alice, it’s Ringo.”

I sighed. “Oh hey Ring. What’s the matter, it’s so early!”

“I’m leaving the band,” he deadpanned.

I blinked and suddenly what he had just said exploded all around me.

“Why don’t you come ‘round, and we can talk about this,” I said soothingly.

“I don’t see how it’ll make much difference,” Ringo sniffed.

“Well then what’s the harm for you?” I asked gently. “Come by in an hour.”

“Bye, Alice.”

Paul had sat up by now, and was rubbing his eyes.

“Who’s coming round?” he asked.

“Ringo,” I replied. “Apparently he’s leaving the band.”

Paul’s jaw dropped.