Hello guys! So you may not know but I am a huge Beatlemaniac so this is a Beatles fan fic.
And yeah I know the troubles in Belfast (where I'm from) didn't start until the late 60's but this is fiction.
P.S. I don't own the Beatles.
P.P.S. I wish I did
January 1957, Belfast, Northern Ireland
I sat around the radio with my mum, dad and younger brother while the presenter announced that the Ulster Volunteer Force had thrown a bomb through the window of a civilian woman's home and she had been killed. Widespread riots had broken out. Belfast, the one place I called home, was no longer safe.
"Samantha, there's no chance you're staying here love," said my mother.
"Mummy, where else can I go?" I replied, rolling my eyes.
"You're going to Liverpool to stay with your granddad,"
"Granda Pat?" I asked. "Just me and him?"
"Wise up, your cousin Paul and his da Jim live with him too,"
"Right, fine I'll go pack," I sighed, going upstairs.
Before we go any further, let me tell you a bit about myself. I'm Samantha Mc Cartney, I'm 16 and I'm from Belfast, Northern Ireland. The reason my granda lives in Liverpool is because he's from Dublin, he moved up here and had my mummy, then moved over to Liverpool and had my Uncle Jim and stayed there ever since.
Throwing some clothes and money in a suitcase, I went downstairs.
"Right Ma, how do you expect me to get Liverpool? Are you not coming with me?" I asked.
"You'll go by boat from the docks and no, I've to stay here with your da," she replied, tears filling up her eyes.
I bit my lip. "When am I going?"
"As soon as I can get you on a boat. Come on we go down and check the times,"
We made our way round to the docks; it only took five minutes because we live round the corner. I didn't want to leave Belfast. The only people I'd know in Liverpool would be my Granda, uncle and cousin. But I knew there was no arguing with my mother about it, she wasn't having me here when there was trouble going on, not a chance of it.
"Right love, there's a boat in five minutes. I've paid the man and he says a lady on the boat'll look after you. Granda Pat will meet you in Liverpool. I love you," she said, hugging me.
"I love you too," I said, hugging her back. "Don't get blown up by a bomb," I whispered, only half joking.
"Aye, love, hold your whisht," she said, winking.
I got on to the boat and sat down. It was really more like a ferry, and there was a cafeteria where you could get drinks, so I bought a Tizer and a packet of crisps and sat and read my book, until finally, at long last, we were in Liverpool.
