Lucy had hastily bid the two Beatles farewell and bashfully thanked them for their help before sprinting towards the pub's exit. The walk back home would be at least a two hour journey and she had no idea which bus to catch. Once again she had found herself betrayed by her so called best friend, who was now somewhere 'enjoying' the smart Beatle. The teen stumbled out of the pub only to find she was greeted outside by pouring rain and claps of thunder.
"Dammit!" she whimpered frustrated and rushed back into the doorway to seek shelter.
As the seventeen year old stood watching the rain hammering against the dull pavement, more tears began to roll gently down her pale face. There was no way she could fool her parents now; by the time she would arrive home it they would already have awoken and even if she did make it back in time, her clothes would still be drenched. She let out a stifled sob in dismay and pulled her jacket closer to her trembling frame for comfort. Things looked hopeless.
"Lucy" a familiar voice gently called out and the girl was away of a figure behind her.
George was soon stood at her side, watching the rain and casually lighting another cigarette in the doorway. Lucy hurriedly wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands, trying to hide the evidence that she had allowed her emotions to take over. The guitarist continued to smoke; his dark eyes fixated on the pavement ahead and watching the late night traffic pass by.
"It's hopeless," Lucy finally choked out to break the uncomfortable silence, "I'll never get home, I don't even remember which bus we caught to get here and there's no way I can walk all the way back in this…"
George continued to stare out ahead of him in silence and Lucy felt that she was more than likely irritating the guitarist. Why on earth would he want to listen to her whining and moaning pathetically when he was trying to enjoy his cigarette in peace? She let her head hang in embarrassment and prepared herself for the long walk home. However, as she stepped out into the storm, she felt a hand grip hold of her arm and firmly drag her back into the sheltered doorway.
"You need a lift back?" George asked coolly, throwing his cigarette to the drenched ground.
"Erm, yes please," Lucy sniffed delicately, "if that's ok with you?"
"It's fine" George answered, flashing a brilliant smile in Lucy's direction and allowing his mask to slip, "Follow me."
With that, the guitarist had already taken Lucy's trembling hand and had smoothly entwined their fingers. The girl felt a lump form in her throat and was unable to raise her eyes to look at her saviour as he led her to his car behind the pub. The comforting warmth of George's skin against her own seemed to soothe Lucy and aided her in forgetting about the icy rain that beating down upon her head. As the pair walked around the back of the grimy building, something caught her attention that made her blood boil. There, propped up against the wall of the pub was her 'friend' Alice. The fake friend had her limbs wrapped raunchily around John Lennon whose flustered face was buried in the girl's raven black hair. Lucy shuddered.