Lovely Rita

I stayed with Yoko and George overnight, sleeping in a spare room with Mary. I couldn’t deal with going out into the reporters at the moment, and I didn’t feel like flying back to California in the state we were all sharing.

I had told Mary funny stories about her Uncle John, of happier times, and George had entertained her and Sean with one of John’s old guitars, trying his best to hold himself together as we all were. Yoko was finding it difficult, and that was perfectly understandable. I doubt she had slept again, as she said she hadn’t the night before, when John had passed away.

I was a complete mess when I woke up in the morning. My hair was tied up roughly, and I had no make-up on. I wore a black sweater and the same jeans from yesterday. I physically couldn’t wear colour with this atmosphere. I picked up the sleeping Mary and cuddled her to me, needing the company of someone, anyone. The two other people I would want in this situation were either gone forever or not here. Mary, though she was asleep, was as much comfort as any of them.

I went to the window cautiously and looked out at the crowd of reporters, greedily eyeing the apartment doors waiting for someone to emerge for any snippet of gossip they could digest and sell. That was all John’s death was about. Money. I felt sick, furrowed my eyebrows and walked away, stroking Mary’s hair gently.
I wandered around the spacious living room aimlessly, before a knock sounded at the door and as I was the only one awake, I felt obliged to answer it, or go to see who it was anyway. I laid Mary out on the sofa, and she didn’t stir at all.

I got on my tiptoes and looked through the peephole, spying Ringo as close to the door as he could be, looking bedraggled and concerned. I prepared myself for his reaction and opened the door, stopping short when I realised he wasn’t alone.

“Julie…” Ringo said, looking over his shoulder at the man I was transfixed on. My daughter’s Daddy. I couldn’t be dealing with any issues we had. I pulled them both in for a hug, and cried out any remaining tears I had. I felt their warm arms around me and felt so much less alone. The scent of their clothes filled my lungs and I felt more at home than I had for a while. Duncan was obviously my husband, but I’d never fully connected with him.

“Ringo, Paul, I’m so glad you’re here. I’ll go and wake up George and see if Yoko’s alright. Be quiet when you go into the living room.” I said, turning away and wiping my tears, as I tottered off quickly to John and Yoko’s room, and the spare room George was staying in.

The lounge was eerily quiet as I served us all tea, and I didn’t want to put up with another day of pure mourning. Today we had to celebrate John’s life, however painful that may be.
Mary was awake, playing with Sean in the middle of the floor. I noticed Paul glancing at her every now and then. I was at a loss as to what to do about this, in all honesty. John had told me not to tell him, but he’d need to know eventually.

“I was thinking, maybe we could go down to Central Park and talk to the fans out there, give them hot drinks and tell them about John as they would like to remember him, you know?” I suggested, as everyone in the room looked up. There weren’t that many fans remaining in this cold, so I thought it wouldn’t be too absurd.

“That sounds really nice, Julie.” Yoko said monotonously, her eyes still a vacant stare. Ringo rubbed her shoulder. Paul was still a silent mess, sitting with George, who had his arm around his shoulder.

We walked out the back entrance of The Dakota, and made our way down to Central Park, me and Mary’s gloved hands intertwined. The fans with picket signs were visible, and we wandered into the park with flasks of warm drinks, like tea, hot chocolate and coffee, and plastic cups for everyone.

We stopped at the gate, and everyone but Yoko had their heads down. Her grip on Sean’s hand visibly tightened.

“Hello, fans of John, our friends. We’ve come to give you all a bit of warmth, as you’ve given us through your devotion to John, who we are all missing dearly. We hope you feel confident enough to ask us any questions about John, and we’ll be happy to answer anything, as long as you’re calm as there are children around.” I tightened my grip on Mary’s hand as she said that, feeling super protective of her.

I trudged my way over in the snow to Paul, not expecting anyone to ask me anything as I wasn’t such an obvious friend to John. Of course people knew I was a friend, but not as close as the others.

“Hi.” I mumbled, smiling at Paul half heartedly as he glanced up at me.
“Hello.” He said, pulling me in for a cuddle while he was free from fans.
“I’ve missed you.” I said into his shoulder.
“I’ve missed you, too. I can’t believe this…” Paul whispered, his voice showing signs of cracking.

I pulled away from him and picked up Mary (which I could do, by the way, as she was under average height for her age). Paul made a silly face at her and sniffed away his tears.

“Your daughter’s very pretty.” He said, smiling at me. I looked down at my feet.

“Thank you, mister.” Mary said, smiling coyly. I giggled at her remark.

“This is Uncle Paul, sweetheart.” I said, hoping they both wouldn’t notice the similarities between themselves. I didn’t need to land this on Paul while he was in the grip of his grief over John.

I decided to leave Yoko’s apartment building that evening, after a catch up with Ringo and Paul, and a beautiful night drinking warm drinks (being treated to an Indian tea called Chai that George had introduced us to) and reminiscing about times with John. I wanted to go out on a high.

Yoko followed me to the back entrance and leaned on the door frame as I held Mary’s hand tightly.

“Thank you, for being here for me. I really appreciate it.” Yoko said in her oriental accent. I nodded in reply, understanding her honesty. I needed all of them in all honesty.

“Thank you too, Yoko. I don’t think I’d have forgiven myself if I hadn’t visited you.” I smiled at her, trying to lift her spirits.

“John told me about Mary, by the way.” Yoko said. I swallowed hard.

“Oh. Can you not say anything to Paul? John told me not to tell him unless it was necessary, and he’s still grieving as is everyone. I don’t want to riddle him with more.” I said, looking down at my daughter.

“I promise. Now go get your flight!” Yoko said, seeming in a more normal mood after days of grief. I smiled and hugged her, kissing her cheek as I left.

“Bye Auntie Yoko!” Mary called back.
I smiled to myself as I turned away; feeling a bit more relaxed about everything. I still had that deep memory in my heart that John was gone through the foulest of ways, but I did feel like we’d set him free now, and he wasn’t being holed up inside of us.