If you ever leave me, I'll be sad and blue. Don't you ever leave me, I'm so in love with you.

I rolled my stockings over my legs and smiled.

It was always great hearing the boys on the radio. Too bad I never heard from them anymore. Not since the whole incident with George almost a year ago.

Birds in the sky would be, sad and lonely if they knew that I lost my, one and only, if your bad to me.

Thinking of the George Incident caused me to roll my eyes and switch off the radio. I didn't want to think about George right now.

"Hey Ruth! You got a extra pair of stockings?" Shirley asked.

"Don't you have any?" I asked. Shirley stumbled into my room (after tripping over her own feet) and held up her stockings. Little teeth marks had made their way into the sheer material.

"Did that bloody cat eat your stockings again?!" I asked. There was a bit of annoyance in my tone.

Shirley was one of my flatmates, and good friends. She had a heart of gold, but that damn cat of hers had to be the most destructive feline in world history.

We had gone through three sets of curtains, eight pairs of stockings, two pillows, six plates, and one lamp.

And that was just in the past month.

"Oh don't be mean to him!" she cried defensively "And I'll pay Jill back ASAP! I swear!"

"Why do I hear my name?" Jill called from the kitchen. I poked my head around the doorway.

"Sasha ate your stockings." I stated. Jill rolled her eyes and continued to butter her toast. I handed Shirley my extra pair, and returned to getting ready.

So much had changed in the past year. I had good friends, a good job, and I was taking classes at a community college (like hell I'd ever be able to afford university)

Everything turned for the better after…

Well after. Y'know. George.

My stomach churned a bit, causing me to quickly push George out of my mind.

Anyhow, I was working at the BBC radio, working as: in short form, an assistants assistant.

But I was working towards becoming a DJ or programme director someday.

But then again, women would have to be looked at as something more then sex objects, and child making machines.

"So whats the plan tonight." Shirley asked as we walked down the steps to the tube.

"No clue." I said.

"Well, I kinda had a idea." Jill said. We looked at her. "I know this club, I went there with Mark once." she gave us a look that asked for permission to carry on.

Jill had this boyfriend, Mark, who was… well he was all fine and dandy, if you don't my egotistical bastards who are overpowering and demanding.

Shirley and I detested him, but we let her continue. (After all, if Mark- the highly upper class socialite had taken Jill to a club, it had to have been the dullest place on earth)

"There's some band playing there, I've heard their pretty good. You two up to it?" she asked. I looked at Shirley, who shrugged and nodded.

"I don't see why not!" she exclaimed.

"Alright then. It's settled then! I'll see you two later!" I said. They waved goodbye, and walked towards the northbound trains, as I walked in the opposite direction.

Christmas 1962

I opened the door, to see Paul, George, and John smiling on the front step.

"Ready? One, two three!" Paul exclaimed. John pulled out his mouth harp, and they began to sing 'We Wish You A Merry Christmas' as loud as they possibly could. By the second verse I was laughing, and they were no longer in sync, so I pulled them inside.

"Merry Christmas luv." Paul said kissing my cheek. He then went to put the 'McCartney Charm' on my Mother, who thought Paul was one of the most attractive men she had ever seen.

"Happy Easter." John said pecking my lips. "Y'know, you could dump ol' Georgie 'ere and run away with me y'know." he said.

"Right John." I said poking him. He smirked and turned around towards the kitchen.

"Mrs Anderson! I come bearing gifts!" he called as he entered the kitchen. I turned to George.

"Happy Christmas Ruth." he murmured before kissing me fiercely.

"Oi, no lovemaking in the hallway!" Danny called as he flew down the flew down the stairs. "Some of us have a appetite to keep up!"

"Oh sod off Dan!" I yelled.

"Ruth!" Mum yelled suddenly appearing in the kitchen doorway. "You may be eighteen, and have your male friends over, but don't swear in this house!"

"Mum he started it!"

"Ruth!" Mum warned. I sighed and turned back to George. He smiled shyly at me, causing me to blush a bit. His smile still worked wonders on my stomach!

"So. What brings you and the terrible two here on such a fine Christmas day?"

"Hey! I don like being called one of the terrible two!" John called from the kitchen.

"Shaddup John! He's gonna ask her ye big git!" Paul babbled. I frowned and turned to George.

"Ask me what?" I asked. He looked at his feet and nervously grabbed my hand.

"Outside? Can I um… talk to you outside?" he asked. I began to feel sick. Like I was going to throw up. And I ran my shaking hand through my hair, tucking it behind my ear, before I nodded my head nervously.

"Yea sure." I said. I pulled my hand out of his and quickly raced myself to open the door. My mind was going through every single possibility of why George would want to ask me a question outside. Away from everyone, probably so we wouldn't cause a scene.

And the only thing that was standing out of all the possibilities, was that he was going to break up with me.

But that didn't seem like George. He'd at least wait until the holidays were over. Wouldn't he?

George followed me outside, and we awkwardly stood on the front step for a brief moment, listening to nothing but the sounds of kids voices merrily talking to one another.

"So." I said.

"So." he repeated quietly. I looked at him, giving him a look. He looked at me, then the ground, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets.

"George, what's going on?" I asked calmly. He sighed and looked at me.

"Well, ye know how we just got that record deal in London at EMI?" I nodded. "Well, I thought… since I'm gonna be spending time there a lot, cos ye never know, we might make it big. Anyhow, I thought that perhaps you could come live in London because well, yer always talking about being a journalist and all. Maybe you could go to school or something." he said.

"Well George, I'd love to, I really would, but how do you think my parent's would feel if I just went parading off down to London with my boyfriend and his merry men?" I asked. He inhaled deeply, before letting out a long, long, breath.

"I thought about that already." he said.

"Oh?" I questioned. Suddenly he was pulling his hands out of his pockets, and opening….. was that a ring box?!

"Ruth, will you marry me?"

Shit.

"Ruth! Oh Ruth!" I snapped out of a daze and looked up towards the sound of my name. James, the guy who I was an assistant to, was standing by my desk.

"Oh. Sorry James, I wasn't…"

"Paying attention, I know. It is a Friday, I understand." he said with a soft chuckle. "But I do have a serious question for you." he said giving me a look. Something clicked in the back of my head, and I reached into a drawer for the big file I had typed up an hour ago.

"Sorry I didn't bring it to ya.. sorry you." I had been polishing up my English. No one was going to allow a scouser on the air at the BBC! James chuckled again and took the files.

"Well thank you, but thats not what I meant." he said. I gave him a puzzled look.

"James, I'm off work in an hour, I've done all of my…."

"Ruth let me ask the question!" he said calmly. James was one of the sweetest men I had ever met. He never raised his voice, never gave shit, wasn't a flirty person, and was incredibly down to earth. Not to mention, he was incredibly good looking! I guess you could say I had some sort of a crush on him.

"Sorry." I mumbled.

"Anyhow, I was wondering if you were busy tonight, thought we could go out to dinner or a club or something like that." James asked this so calmly, but his ears and cheeks were a crimson red, which caused me to blush as well.

And still completely remembering my plans with Shirley and Jill, I happily accepted the invitation.

Hopefully they wouldn't be too mad.

"Well thank you for coming to dinner with me. You don't know how long I've been waiting to ask you!" James said. I laughed and took a sip of my wine. I had never really had wind before, as it was way to expensive, and saying as I spent my teen years around a lot of teddy boys, I was used to drinking cheep beer.

So I did feel quite elegant, sitting in a high end restaurant, having dinner with a rich mans son (James father was incredibly rich somehow I had learned tonight), and drinking aged red wine.

"Well, I'm glad you did." I said. He smiled.

"So Ruth, I hardly know a thing about you! I told you about my father being a rich corporate man, what did your father do?" he asked. I blushed. My upbringing in comparison to James was…. well it was almost embarrassing.

"My father was a dock worker." I said. I half expected James to snort, or politely say how great it was when he really was disgusted by it.

But he didn't. He put his hand in his chin, and looked at me as if he wanted to hear more.

"And you were raised in…. where was it?"

"Liverpool." I said timidly. He frowned.

"Ruth, don't be ashamed of your roots."

"I'm not." I said sternly. He smirked.

"Well are you ashamed because of me?" he asked. Great. Another guy that can read me like a book.

"Do you want the truth?" I asked.

"Of course!" he said.

"Well, I do feel… er… odd, because I'm some dockworkers daughter, and your… y'know, like the prime ministers son! I dunno. I feel like…"

"Like you don't belong in a five star restaurant sipping 30 year old wine."

"Exactly!" I exclaimed. He shrugged.

"Completely understandable. In fact, I really am sick of these places. I was raised going to them, and only snobs like my father come here. Do you know any rock n roll clubs?" he asked.

I smiled.

The cold breeze still managed to send goosebumps through to my skin, despite the fact that I was wearing a light jacket. I stood on the steps of the restaurant, waiting for James, who had gone to get the car.

Apparently, he didn't trust valets enough. So as I stood waiting for him, I watched as all the rich people pulled up in their chauffeured cars, wearing the most beautiful dresses that I would never be able to afford in a million years. I didn't really pay attention to anything any of them were saying (as they were talking in the most droning posh voices in the history of posh voices) but my ears did prick up when I heard a familiar scouse accent.

Not wanting to be rude, I didn't look at whoever this person was.

"Hello sir, is there something I could help you with?" I heard one of the valets ask.

"No, no. Just steppin outside for a breath of fresh air. Quite stuffy in there, all those posh folk in there." the voice said.

But that voice was too familiar, WAY too familiar.

And I already knew who it was before I finished turning my head to look.

George glared at me from the top of the steps. My eyes grew wide in amazement, of all the places in London! He had to be here!

He began to walk down the steps, causing me to freak out. I wasn't ready to face him yet! I had been the one that broke his heart.

"Ruth!" I whipped my head around towards the street to see James in his car. He was waving at me. And with one final look at George (who had now stopped dead in his tracks), I dashed to the car and hopped inside.

"So! Where to?" James asked cheerily. I looked at a George (who was either angry, mopey, or didn't give a shit) on the stairs.

"Anywhere." I mumbled, before giving the exact location of the club.

Christmas 1962 (continued)

George looked at me waiting for a response, but I couldn't move. I didn't know what to do! I was paralyzed!

"G..George… w… what?!"

"Marry me." he repeated. He opened the little box to reveal a plain silver wedding band. Something was engraved on it, but I couldn't see anything clearly. I felt so sick to my stomach, because I knew what I had to say.

"George… I can't marry you!" I said. His face dropped, and he closed the box. I felt a lump forming in my throat, and I realized why my vision was so blurry.

I was crying.

"I'm… I'm s… sorry!" I said breaking out into a sob. "B… but we're… so young! You won't love me once you make it big!"

"Ruth, for once, shut the fuck up!" he barked angrily. I swallowed a sob, causing my throat to make a really weird noise.

"George please don't get mad!"

"You just refused me!"

"Why can't you wait a few years?! We can see how…"

"I DONT WANT TO WAIT A FEW YEARS!" he yelled. I put my hands in my face. and cried hopelessly. God, I was making everything worse! He sighed "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell." he stammered. "It's just that in a few years we could be entirely different people."

"Then why would you want to get married!" I yelled.

"Because I love you!" he screamed. It echoed across the street, and it seemed as if everything suddenly went dead quiet. George had never, in the three years we had dated, told me he loved me.

"George…" I whispered. He ran a hand through his hair, breathing heavily.

"Ruth, I want you to come to London with me, so we can start a family!"

"George." I said calming down for a brief moment. "I don't want that!"

And the look he gave me before he stormed off, it was filled with so much heartbreak, and so much sadness, caused me to cry so hard, Mrs Henderson two doors down, and Mrs Woolpin across the street, ran down the street to make sure I was ok.

Which I wasn't.

Sorry about the really kinda North American accent thing going on. I'm Canadian, so I don't really know how Londoners (is that what you are called? I have no idea eek) talk.

Anyhow! First chappy of Part Two!