Beatlemania!

The rest of 1968 passed without much hubbub. Susan and I were on polite, awkward speaking terms, and Dad stayed out of it.

John and Yoko began planning a trip around Europe together, and Paul started planning out the new album.

Fans were saddened by the end of the “single Beatles.” After all, George and Ringo were married, and John and Yoko were public, especially with “Two Virgins.”

As it stood, the world viewed Paul as the last bachelor Beatle. However, he was eager to change that and announce our engagement. I was terrified of what the fans would think of me.

I went to Dad and Lucy for advice, and they both told me immediately that I should not be afraid to announce the good news, and that being married to a Beatle would mean lots of this sort of thing.

I agreed, and together, Paul and I spoke to Derek Taylor about a statement to be released to the press.

He gave us a quiet smile and nodded. “Yes, I think you’re doing it right. It’s better to let the press feel like you’re filling them in on your life willingly, otherwise they’ll use their own means to get it.”

He wrote a simple statement on the spot:

Paul McCartney of the Beatles would like to announce his engagement to Miss Alice Westwood, whom he has known since his first trip to the United States. They are very happy, and hope that their fans and friends will be just as happy for them.

I approved it immediately. I had full and complete trust in Derek’s abilities, and I thought the statement was good. Paul made a few minor changes in wording and then clapped Derek on the back.
“Send it out as soon as possible.”

I waited in horror as Derek sent the announcement to the usual fan mags. I had prepared for this moment. My old apartment in New York City was already wiped clean of me, and so was the London apartment. I remained on the go, and I was careful not tot spend a lot of time at number 7 Cavendish, where Paul and I now lived.

I kept busy with wedding plans. There was just so much to do! I was in need of a couple personal assistants, so I enlisted the help of Lucy as well as Mike’s bride, Angie.

We had to decide how this whole thing was going to plan out. We weren’t even sure a proper church wedding would be possible, considering the situation with Paul. He was quite keen to skip the official ceremony, at least for now.

“What?” My eyes practically popped out of my head when he told me.

“We could just to a quick pop into the registry office and make it legal. Then, once all the ruckus dies down we could make it official,” Paul suggested.

“Paul, the ruckus is never going to calm down; you’re a Beatle for god’s sake,” I snapped.

Paul smiled gently. “I know you’re set on a big, white wedding. And trust me, I want it too. But we have to think realistically, love. We’re never going to make it out alive.”

“The press will find out about the registry office too,” I reminded him.

“But by then we’ll be leaving the building. Finished. And then we can plan out the real wedding,” he replied.

“I don’t want the legal and the official ceremonies to be months apart,” I frowned.

“Why not? Double the anniversaries!” Paul teased.

My face broke into a smile. “We’ll see. I’ll talk to Dad and Lucy and you talk to your dad.”

“I don’t want a long engagement,” Paul waggled his finger at me.

I kissed his nose. “Thank goodness we agree on something!”
~
It was hard to reach any sort of compromise. A girl spends years dreaming of her big white wedding, with hundreds of guests and elegant food and cream tablecloths.

Paul was working on a new song, and for now it was titled “Get Home.” It was a different pace – not quite rock n’ roll but it wasn’t a ballad either. I could smell the end of the sixties style.

John and Yoko were still John and Yoko, and every time I saw one the other was very nearby. I didn’t get on much with Yoko. To be fair, I wasn’t exactly trying very hard to get close to her.

“I feel like I should,” I told Paul one day in February. “I mean if John loves her...”

“Nah, don’t worry love. John has his obsessions and this one will fade like the rest,” Paul replied soothingly.

“I don’t think John has woman phases,” I said doubtfully.

Paul snorted. “Oh trust me, he does. For those months after we left New York in 1964, it was all about you.”

My cheeks grew hot. “Really?”

“Sure. Letters, talking about you...all that nonsense. But it died down after a bit,” Paul shrugged casually.

“But Yoko seems...different. John seems different too,” I remarked.

“He’s growing his hair you know. And a beard! Fancy John with a beard!” he laughed.

“No better than you, Paul,” I teased. “It’s horrible on everyone except father Christmas.”

Paul pretended to take offense. “You wait! I will grow a beard and prove that I can look sexy as hell with it. The girls will love me just as much.”

I sniffed mockingly. “I wouldn't count on it!"
~

As usual, when Paul had a song going, John did too. He asked me to have a listen and I was rather taken aback.

“I’m sure Yoko would love to hear it,” I suggested.

John batted the air with his hand. “I already showed it to her. Said it was nice and walked off.”

“I can’t give you much more feedback,” I warned him.

“Yeah but you listen to Macca’s songs too. Tell me, how’s his single coming?” he asked eagerly.

I smiled. “Splendidly. The title’ fixed.”

“Go Home?”

“Get Back,” I corrected.

John grinned. “Oh bugger now I have to name mine on the spot.”

“Oh yeah? What are you thinking?” I asked curiously.

John’s brown orbs pierced mine as he replied.
“I’m thinking...’Don’t Let Me Down’.”