Lovely Rita

I had sent off the divorce papers the morning after arriving, and everything was going smoothly. My hands were chapped and worn from all of the cleaning I had been doing. Thank goodness the press hadn't been around the ranch while Linda was sick; I was finding everything difficult to comprehend as it was, let alone photographers. I had also been cooking dinners each day for Paul and Mary. I had sort of been a domestic goddess.

It was the 16th, and throughout my stay I had tried to avoid Linda and left her wellbeing to Paul, Stella and James, while I sorted out the house. But worries about not reconciling our differences if she, god forbid, didn't conquer this sickness overcame me and I felt an impulse to go in and apologise for everything I had put her through, even if I wasn't there to see the effects.

She wasn't particularly with-it. Her eyes were opening and closing in and out of consciousness as she was so tired, and her face and hair were sallow and grey. The beautiful colour that had given her a glow had been dimmed to just her smile. I gasped as I entered after she answered my knock.

"Julie..." Lidna breathed croakily. I felt my eyes sting with the threat of tears.

"Linda," I whispered, a quivering hand covering my mouth. I rushed to sit on the chair that was constantly beside the bed for visitors. Her hand was cold and quaking when I took hold of it.
"Linda, I just wanted to say how sorry I am for everything I've done. I was... messed up for a long time afterwards as I just felt so guilty. I can't tell you how sorry I am. I hope you can forgive me..." I whispered. She dragged her heavy eyes up to meet mine and squeezed my hand weakly.

"You're already forgiven Julie. The drama between John and Paul in the past, watching beautiful relationships crumble and wither over petty things made me realise I never wanted to fall out with someone ever again - because look at what happened to John. We may have all reconciled, but he would never realise how much he meant to us. I forgive you, sweetheart." Linda said. The way she said 'sweetheart' emphasized the motherly side of her personality. She was a wonderful person. She stifled a small smile, even through all of this pain. I couldn't help but be inspired by her bravery through all of this. From what Paul had told me, she hadn't complained once and always hoped to conquer it no matter how hopeless everyone else felt. I admired her a lot.

"I can never forgive myself, but thank you. You're a remarkable, wonderful woman - an inpspiration." I said.

"Promise me something..." Linda breathed. I leaned towards her and kissed her hand gently. I nodded.
"Make sure, when I'm gone, that Paul doesn't do anythign stupid. Make sure that he doesn't lose his morals. Make sure he continues being the loving, hard working man he is. As we all know him. Don't let this be the end of him. For me?" Linda asked, meekly looking up into my eyes. I was fully tearing up, feeling droplets falling down my cheeks. I nodded out of fear of sobbing instead of forming words.

Linda turned away and I could see she was exhausted. I let go of her hand and walked quietly out of the room in a state of disbelief. I absent mindedly into Paul as I left the room, and looked up at him with desperately sad eyes, I could see them reflected in Paul's eyes. We both wanted to help her so much, but felt hopeless. I leaned into him and sobbed into his chest, and he rested his chin on my head.
We did nothing in that moment. We just stood and hugged, and it felt like time had stood still. It felt as though we were transferring emotions between eachother - the exact same feeling flowing in and out of eachother's bodies, telling the other how we felt. It was beautiful and tragic at the same time.

**********

"You're up on your beautiful Appaloosa stallion; it's a fine spring day, we're riding through the woods. The bluebells are all out, and the sky is clear blue."

I was slumped outside Paul and Linda's bedroom, listening to the beautiful words Stella, James and finally Paul had to say to their beloved centre of family. It was early into the morning of the 17th of April, and I was crying my eyes out yet again. Mary was cleaning up downstairs.

"Linda? Linda... Baby, answer me..." I heard Paul say, before his mouth dried up and his voice caught in his throat. I covered my mouth. The desperation in his voice was becoming strained and I could tell he was realising what had happened. I choked back tears quietly as I heard Stella and James sobbing and sniffing. I stood up and walked away before everything got the better of me and I stormed in and cried too.
I helped Mary finish up the washing up to take my mind away from it all.

"Has she... Is it...?" Mary said, not knowing how to finish her sentence. I think she didn't want to say the ominous word we all knew we had to face.

"Yes. Linda just passed away I think. I'm leaving them to come to terms with everything. I'm finding it heartbreaking and difficult to take in myself, so I have no idea how they must be feeling." I near on whispered. Mary cuddled me as we stood by that basin in the kitchen, and I decided that she had to be told who her Father was soon. He needed as much love and family around him as possible, and I didn't want Mary to feel awkward.

Paul had phoned up and the mortician collected Linda to prepare for her funeral. I had been sat with James and Stella, reassuring them and comforting them in a motherly way as Mary had made drinks and sat with us. I felt such a strong connection with those two in that moment, and it was almost like Linda had passed on her caring, natural-mother attributes to me in that tender moment we shared.
I clocked Paul sat on the porch through the window and told the kids I was going to join him. He was vacantly staring out into the front garden area when I reached him, and I simply sat beside him and put a hand on his thigh.

"We need to tell Mary. She needs to know so that she can give you the love and attention you need right now. The same with her half-siblings." I rested my head on his shoulder as the swinging chair rocked and creaked in the quiet night. It was as if Linda had taken all of the stress and frustration out of the world and left peace and calm.
Paul put his arms around me and we cradled eachother in that moment of solace.

"I would like that." Paul said monotonously.

"Sweetheart, talk to me about how you feel. I promise you'll feel better once you cry it out." I whispered, holding his face as I sensed he was feeling depressed. A tear rolled down his cheek and he leaned in towards me. I furrowed my eyebrows as he held my face and his lips pressed against mine, and I felt compelled to do two different things.
My first option was to do what he wanted me to. I had done that for men all of my career until I was properly involved with Duncan. Paul was clearly different, and I was addicted to him like a drug ever since that first night we met. I however had morals and went with decision two, which was to push him away.

"Paul... You don't WANT this right now." I said as I pushed away from him and wiped my mouth. He sat in silence and waited for me to say more.
"Linda has just passed away, and I know perfectly well you're just filling a void. I don't want to jump right into the bed your wife just passed away in, and you don't either. I can tell." I whispered, holding onto his hands and willing him to understand me. He looked at me and nodded, understanding perfectly well what I meant. I kissed his cheek and hugged him tight.
"Everything's going to be alright. We just need to go about things the right way. You need to grieve in the correct way. What we need to do first is distract your mind. I think telling Mary will provide that service, don't you?" I mumbled into his ear, and I felt him nod.

"Telling Mary what?" I heard my daughter's subdued voice mumble from behind us. I jumped, startled as I hadn't heard her approaching.

"Darling, we... uh, we have something to tell you. Obviously." I whispered, feeling really deflated and embarrassed at having to admit to my daughter she was originally an accident.

"Spit it out Mum..." She said, looking less than impressed as she folded her arms.

"We uh... In 1967 I met Paul here... We had a thing before I went away for an audition and when I came back in 1968 he was with Linda. There was a night where we were a little out of it and we spent it together again, and in the following months I wanted out of the World for good, but Paul here saved me. We spent one last night together and then I left for America.
"I started feeling sick, and on the 22nd November 1968 I discovered I was pregnant. I was pregnant with you, Mary. You're Paul McCartney's first born daughter." I was whispering by the end, embarrassed at the fact I hadn't told her before.

"Oh my God..." She said, and made her way over to us. She hugged Paul tightly, and he wrapped his arms around her too. I watched my daughter and her daddy share their first moment as relations, and smiled as the warmth radiating from that embrace hit me inside my heart. I felt a lot more at ease now, and I hoped that Paul was distracted from his grief for just a minute by his newfound daughter.