Lovely Rita

I woke up feeling worse than before. This time had to be the last time I ever got hit over the head. Period. My eyes were crusted with blood that I'd been laying in, and as I opened them I noticed I was in Sixties Liverpool at night (I could tell the era from the buildings).

I sat up and pushed myself against the wall. It was cold and I could feel the sensation through my clothes (which were in tatters, I assumed due to the fall). I brushed my hair back with my hand and became entangled in my own hair. It was matted from the blood. I shivered, trying to fight the cold away.

I heard footsteps approaching, and I stood up and brushed myself off. The man almost passed me by, he was walking so brisk, but I skipped up to him as he passed and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Sorry-"

"My God, you alright m'love?" He asked, looking me up and down with concern glistening in his eyes. I was all bloody, so it was okay.

"Yeah, just had a bit of an accident. Look, I know this whole scenario is quite odd, but you don't happen to know what year this is, do you?" I said, trying not to sound too ill. I chuckled at the end of the sentence, which was a bad idea because I felt as though I would puke.

The man chuckled slightly.

"It's August 1968 my dear!" He said, and tipped his trilby hat to me as he walked away. I mumbled a thankyou as I contemplated what to do.

I thought back to all my Beatle-knowledge. Magical Mystery Tour had been released. Brian Epstein had died almost a year ago. The White Album was next to be released. Okay, I was sorted with what I knew I could talk about.

My dizziness subsided and I decided to walk as fast as I could to Paul's. I power walked, thrusting my arms as far as I could behind me, puffing air out of my cheeks and warming myself up in this cold. I reached the apartment and stopped. I watched the window, as I saw a silhouette move and leave my view through the curtains. I ducked down and slapped myself in the face.

"What the fuck am I doing?" This was Paul! This was someone I'd made love to, someone I'd given myself to completely. One of the only reasons I came back here...

Then I remembered something else about this year...

Linda.

I tried to slow my breathing as I walked up to the door. I know I should have probably left it. Paul had moved on, it was time for me to make my own way here in the Sixties. I should leave now and turn away. But my feet carried me closer and closer to the door.

I knocked on the door tentatively, my breathing starting to quicken. I heard barking. Martha was here! I smiled, singing 'Martha My Dear' in my head which slowed my heart a bit, but by the time I heard a voice and footsteps approaching, and saw the door handle turning, opening...

I whited out.

*****

I woke up to a beautiful, deep, velvety voice, asking me: "You okay, sweetheart?" Paul's glorious, dark as night puppy-dog eyes were all I could see, as he closely examined the blood on my face and daubed it with a damp flannel. I lazily blinked awake and he smiled and looked back towards the small, old fashioned television opposite the sofa. I couldn't care for what was playing on it. I put my hand to my head and sat up, bringing my legs round in front of me.

"I shouldn't have come..." I said, holding my hands over my mouth. Not in shock, just in contemplation.

"Well, 'hi' to you too!" He said sarcastically, relaxing farther into the sofa and fixating on what was on the television with a coy smile playing across his face.

I turned to look at him, and I saw his eyes roll to the side to look at me. I shot him a half smile and he turned around and sat cross legged up on the sofa.

"Rita, you're welcome here anytime you silly mare." He said, sighing slightly at my worry.

"Where's Linda?" I asked, genuinely curious and wanting to know.

"How did you... Oh, future." He said, rolling his eyes. "She's with her 'photography friends'. They hold a group meeting every so often." He said, smiling.

"Where's Heather" I said. I knew Paul was to adopt Heather as his own after he and Linda were married next year. I wouldn't say anything though. Paul's face changed into a 'you keep on surprising me' expression.

"She's in her bedroom. The spare room where you stayed on that first night. I slept with you, remember?" He smiled coyly, looking off into the distance and probably remembering something dirty that we once did.

"Yes, I remember. I loved that. I missed sleeping in your arms when I was back in the 2000s." I smiled, but inside I was crumbling, realising I could never have that again. I loved Linda; she'd always been a big inspiration to me, which is why I couldn't be a problem to them. If it was Heather Mills, maybe, (as I knew what was to happen) but not Linda. She and Paul were made for eachother.

Paul ruffled his hair, which was slightly longer than it had been before.

"I missed holding you, too." He said. We just smiled at eachother for a moment, before he picked up his lefty from the floor and told me to grab the guitar on the stand across the room. "I've missed jamming with you, too." He said, tuning up the G string as he spoke.

"What about Heather?" I asked. "Won't she wake up?" I said concernedly. He shook his head, pouting his lips a little as he did so.

I admired him as I leaned across the guitar, and watched the master at work. I strummed a couple of chords to 'Fool On The Hill' (my favourite from Magical Mystery) and Paul looked up, recognising his work. I continued to play and felt his eyes watching my hands picking away. I heard the accompanying parts chime in too, and I looked up at Paul to see him smiling, and he began singing the song to me. I joined in and we sang together, harmonising in a different way to how we used to...

We stayed up through the night, talking and laughing about things he'd done in the past two years or so, and the stories behind some of the more recent songs. I listened intently to his stories of the studio and making the MMT film. It was a magical night. I didn't want it to end.

I heard the sound of a key turning in the door, and I looked at Paul, who smiled cheekily with a glint in his eye. I furrowed my eyebrows, not knowing what to do.

"Honey I'm home!" Linda called, her fading American accent chiming sarcastically through the apartment.

"We have a guest, Lady Linda." Paul said in his most proper accent. Lady Linda, haha. That's what she'd be come 1997.

"Oh really?" Linda said, hanging up her coat by the door and stepping gracefully into the room. I couldn't help but sigh as she walked in and combed her hand through her hair. She was such a wonderful woman. "Hi!" She said, walking over to the sofa to kiss Paul on the cheek. I looked away. It was a mixture of things...

First it was awkwardness.
Then it was 'hey, that's mine.'
Then it was sadness at not wanting to see him with another.

I looked up and Paul was looking down at his feet with that coy little grin on his face. He knew exactly what he was doing to me. Well, two could play at that game. I sat back and smiled triumphantly at my inner self.

"Hello, so you must be Linda!" I said, smiling at her as she walked back from the kitchen.

"Yeah, and you are?" She smiled. I was about to open my mouth and say 'RITA!' But then I thought, there can't be many 'Ritas' that hang around with Paul. She'd know the song. She'd realise it was me and then take a dislike to me for being Paul's ex-lover. I looked at Paul, and his expression said everything I was thinking.

"J-Julie. Julie Christie." I said, thinking of a name on the spot. I had always liked the name Julie. It was my Nana's name. Christie was my Mum's maiden name. I glanced at Paul subtly and saw that he was smiling coyly again. Bastard! I smiled to myself.

"Well it's nice to meet you, Julie. Do you need a place to stay?" Linda suggested. I looked at Paul again, who looked up at me concernedly. If we spent enough time together, we'd surely become attatched again... I sighed, contemplating my answer.

"Well, if it's okay with Paul here." I said, slapping him on the leg.

"It's okay with you, isn't it baby?" She said, looking over to Paul.

"Um, of course..." He said, sounding a bit doubtful. I smiled. If he was going to tease me, I'd tease him.

"Thankyou guys, I'll clean, help out, do whatever. Thankyou." I said, being never to ungrateful.

So I was living with Paul and Linda for a while. Cool.

I hoped.