Chapter Three:

You Know What to Do

Their group must have been the loudest in the train. Every few moments a burst of laughter would erupt from their compartment. Anytime someone would pass by, the five of them would receive another hard stare. Though it was easy for the boys when they could simply respond by making a goofy face or cross-eyed look at the person outside.

Sandra had never once before contemplated how humorous the four of them could be. In her eyes, before meeting them like this, the Beatles were nothing more than pretty boys who wrote music for a living. There was no way she could have seen them differently. That was simply their image to the public. Four fabulous singers and musicians from England who had stolen the hearts of practically every girl she knew.

Their songs were kind of empty when it came to the words, Sandra thought. She didn't want to seem harsh, but that was just how she felt. Most consisted of being in love with a girl either just because she was pretty when she danced or because he wanted to hold her. That all didn't mean much to Sandra. But all at the same time she remembered the moments she found herself singing or dancing along to one of their fresh songs anytime one would be played. She felt like a complete hypocrite.

This was not to be said about all of their songs. There were still so many she loved with all of her heart. If there were not, she wouldn't call herself a fan. The beautifully harmonies, amazing tap-your-foot-to beats, powerful guitar playing. In the end, the positives did tend to out way the negatives.

A lot of the songs were about love. Sandra never felt like she had been in love before, and she assumed that was the reason some of the songs did not appeal to her. She had been with people before and even had very long lasting and meaningful relationships with the men she was with, but she had never really been in love. She knew of things like extreme admiration for the person she was with, or feelings that mimicked a giddy school girl, but that was really the extent of it. Her brain made sure to tell her the truth about it all in the end.

Sandra knew she had been carrying on drawn out and completely enjoyable conversations with the four handsome men around her. But that was all they were, 'handsome.' She still didn't know what kind of people they truly were. Was this confident and flirtatious front that they all had really them?

"Watcha' thinking about?" George spoke up and asked. The girl jumped out of her thoughts that the calm of the laughter had put her into. She looked up and tried to find an answer.

"Just some stuff," Sandra rolled off her tongue. She was having trouble finding the words. "My life, meeting you lot, anything else that crosses my mind…"

"I forgot to ask," said Paul, pointing to the various suitcases spread along the rack, "where are you heading? You've got a lot of stuff for just a little trip."

"Well, the whole story is probably one for another day," said Sandra, "but I'm going to London to live with my cousin for a bit. When I finally get a job for some money, and maybe get the chance to go back to school, then I'll be able to get a place of my own." Sandra looked on to see the boys' faces, which had lost their joker smiles and were now plain and nodding. She felt stupid now for just rambling on her plans for life to them.

"Why don't you just live in the moment? You don't need to try and plan everything out that much," John put his two-cents in. He had turned and was looking her straight in the eye. She tried not to notice his gaze and turn away, but it was hard for her.

"I like having it all laid out in front of me. It let's me know what I want to do with life and help me actually do it," Sandra explained to him. This was how she went about trying to achieve things for herself. Her mother was always the same exact way. She had lists for every occasion and they never seemed to fail her. "It's just the way I was taught."

"But if you have everything listed out how are you going to handle anything out of the ordinary happening to you?" John simply came back. Was he arguing his views on the matter, or was he just trying to see how the girl would react? She couldn't tell. It was probably a different reason entirely, she though.

"I met the four of you out of the blue on a train today. That goes in the book of out of ordinary. And that goes to show I can handle things fine." Sandra could feel her voice rising a bit with each line she spoke, as was John's. This must have been the Lennon temper she had read about in magazines before, and apparently it was rubbing off on her.

"That doesn't mean-"

"Hey, don't worry about that many things. What, you're practically still a kid right? Enjoy it," said George, trying to calm down the uprising qualm.

Sandra thought over his statement. She wasn't exactly a kid anymore; at least she didn't think so. She went on to tell him, "Actually, I'm twenty-three. It's about time I grew up." Another roar of laughter bellowed in the room. The girl look over the group, confused over why they were laughing this time.

"Really? Same as John and me," said Ringo between his snickers. "Thought you must have had to be younger than that." Sandra laughed at this even more. She hadn't actually expected them to be that young, though she was never going to say that aloud.

"Who's the kid now, Harrison?" Paul burst out through his laugh and everyone joined in, aside from George obviously. He just looked at his friends with a hard stare and he furrowed his brow. "Oh come off it George, we're only having some fun."

"Yeah, only playing with you," Sandra said, leaning forward to pat George on the knee in comfort. George tried to hide his light grin, though the rest of them saw right through it. It made Sandra feel better about the teasing him. She didn't want to actually put forth to making him angry; she had no clue how that would turn out. Even if it might have been a little funny. Bringing herself back up, she once more looked out the window. Instead of the sites of a city like before, there were now green hills full of some sort of crop. Sandra wasn't sure what kind they were. Though they moved quite a bit, she had always lived in the city.

"Where are you four heading?" she asked, wondering how long they would be there on the train. She was having fun and didn't particularly want them to leave. This would be a story her friends would never believe. Sandra bet this had happened to a different girl before, the same exact way at random, and her friends never believed her either. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and she was using it up now.

Another thing suddenly hit her; this would be the last she would ever hear from them. Once they got off of the train and they each went their separate way, they would once more only become four lads she heard on her record player. She would have this short amount of memories thought, and that had to count for something.

"We're going down to Birmingham," Paul answered with a smile. "We've got ourselves another performance. Supposed to be a big one."

'Wow,' Sandra only mouthed. Another concert for them, out of the hundreds that they already could have had. She could just imagine it; the chaos, the heat, the noise, and the thousands of screaming fans. Sandra knew how it was from any of times she been to the concert of some other of her favorite singers from her teenage years.

"I guess we'll be getting off a while before you will," said George. He has right. The stop for Birmingham must have been coming up soon, and then the Beatles would head out and Sandra would have to spend the rest of her trip in silence. The fun would be over, but she didn't want to think on that. She tried to change the subject back to the music.

"What are you going to be playing?" she wondered aloud. Had they even written any new songs that she just hadn't heard lately? She had so much on her mind, and in the business of packing her clothes and preparing her things for moving didn't have time for any sort of recreational activities. This included listening to the radio and keeping up with new albums coming out. Nor did she have money for the latter.

"Same things we always play," John answered. He didn't seem all that enthused about it. "Whatever is good for dancing at this place that the birds like."

"Common, don't say it like that," Ringo told John. He was now using his drum sticks to play on the side of one of the wall, like he was practicing one of the songs already. "They're your songs after all, along with Paul's."

"Yeah I know, along with anything Martin thinks we would be good with," said John, "Just wanting something new is all."

"We'll get something out new soon enough, sure of it," Paul reassured him. The two of them were the renowned song writing duo of the band. Nearly everything was staring the two of them, with a few exceptions of course.

"Hey Sandra," said Paul, grabbing the girl's attention, "you listen to us right?"

"Oh, yes, I do," she answered honestly. She wasn't sure how deep in the topic Paul wanted her to be. She simply put, "I'm sure I'm not as big a fan as some girls, but I do really enjoy some of your music."

Sandra noticed the boys perk up at her saying that. John turned to face her and his normal smirk had returned.

"Who's your favorite?" John asked smugly. Sandra raised an eyebrow at him (whether she actually succeeded in raising it she didn't know though.) She didn't understand what he was getting at. He explained, "You know how it is, every girl has to pick a favorite. It's like a right of passage for you fans, isn't it?"

"I guess it is when you put it like that," Sandra answered calmly, but instantly got flustered with the question. "You're all human beings; it's not like going out and picking a plant for your garden or something!"

"Sure it is!" Paul laughed. "Bet all your friends had picked one of us. Now, who'd you pick?"

Sandra let out a sigh. This was another long explanation waiting to happen, but when the other two Beatles also began to jeer her on for an answer she calmed them and tried to explain. "Out of my little group, I was the last to find out about your group. So naturally, all the other girls had all picked out their favorites and were very protective over each of you. It was particularly you for most of them, Mr. McCartney." Paul threw in a wink at her here. "So when I found out who had who, and that one of you wasn't claimed by them, I ended up picking Ringo."

"So, I'm your favorite?" Ringo asked. His reaction was calm and nearly emotionless, something Sandra didn't expect. She thought there would be cheers or applause, like they would treat it like winning a prize.

"Yeah, you are," she said. She had tried not to be terribly loud about it, because technically she picked him because of default. Like she had mentioned before, she didn't feel right picking the best of them off of just appearances and some songs. Her mind just couldn't comprehend doing it.

"But, that's just because you had to?" said Ringo, "Not because of who I am as a wonderful person."

"What? No, absolutely not!" Sandra suddenly felt terrible. She cursed herself for saying anything in the first place. "You are my favorite, it was just a matter of circumstance that it became that way." She saw his mouth frown more and knew that she was just digging herself into a bigger hole. Though, she kept trying to make up for it. "Your drum playing is the best I've heard my entire life and you-you have amazing eyes…"

"What about me?" Paul cut in, but was easily ignored.

Ringo still had the face of a sad child as Sandra tried over and over to apologize. As she went on and on Ringo and the other boys found it harder and harder to keep there grins hidden. Eventually he almost doubled over in amusement.

"Come 'ead, he's only playing with you," George told her, like she had said to him earlier. She looked over in shock to see Ringo showing a large, toothy grin her way. She was almost frozen. The comfort from George barely helped; it only made her quiet for a moment. She had to spill out every positive thing there was about Ringo, and this was only just a joke.

"Ringo Starr, why did you do have to-" Sandra shouted at him. She was confused with a sense of frustration. There was no way to worm her way out of it because the hole she had dug was now a seemingly bottomless pit. "You made me feel terrible!" She let out a light 'huff' and was then quiet once more.

"Ringo, you should be one to take fans whenever you get them," said John to his band mate. He had taken out a lighter from his back pocket and a cigarette and began to smoke it. He offered it over to George who did the same.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ringo said, looking offended once more.

"You know what it means," John smirked. He took a long drag of the stick and then exhaled it, letting out a cloud of billowing, grey smoke. She looked over to George who was doing the exact same.

It seemed to make him even more calm, if that were possible. Sandra tried to subtly hold her breath for as long as she could, until it became to much for her. No one she knew smoked a day in their life, unless it was something they did behind closed doors.

Suddenly through the instant calm, a loud but still muffled voice came over the train, announcing that they would be pulling into station in Birmingham in just a few moments. In a rush the four boys stood up and grabbed their trunks and guitar cases from around the compartment. Sandra didn't understand why they were moving so fast. Her small time with them was now over, and from now on they would once more just return to The Beatles in her mind instead of Paul, John, George, and Ringo. From individuals here in the train to a group back in real life, where they would sing to every person out there instead of just talking to herself.

She was being melodramatic about it all and she knew it. Things would just go back to the planned schedule and return to normal, which would be fine. Life would go on like she had spent this train ride by herself and nothing changed. She knew John was right though, she wasn't going to handle this new situation well in the end after all.

"So you're just going to let us leave without saying a word?" Paul asked her as the train pulled to a screeching stop.

"No, of course not," Sandra answered, her voice going higher just a bit. What was she to say after all? She stood up to be on the same level as them now. "It was an absolute pleasure meeting you all. Best time on the train I've ever had in my life, without a doubt." She gave an awkward laugh. She was bad at goodbyes and always had been. And now, as she was standing, she felt like she would whenever she would walk guests to the door of her old home.

"Our pleasure, milady," John said with a posh accent, bowing in front of her. She in turn lifted her skirt a small bit and gave her best curtsy.

"All the best at your performance!" she said added in. The train had made a complete stop now and it was time. Two older men taped on the door, as to hurry the boys along. One pointed at his watch, and George nodded to him. Paul slowly began to open the door as all of them exchanged their waves goodbye.

"Come give us a listen one of these days," George told her, and Sandra promised she would. She didn't actually know if it were a promise she could keep or not, but she had always wanted to try.

The door was fully opened and the Beatles had shuffled out, following the two men who were waiting for them. As the left Sandra could hear their voices fainter and fainter.

"Who was she?" asked a voice she didn't recognize. It belonged to one of the men.

"Just some bird," said John.

"She was nice, lay off Johnny," said Paul

"She didn't scream at us like most of-" said George, but the rest she couldn't hear. The sound of other people's footsteps and the general noisiness of the station overpowered it. That was the end of her adventure here, and it was time to get right back on track. Sandra slowly sat herself back into her spot on the seat and pulled her book back out from before. She attempted to find her page back but she couldn't focus. The slip of paper she used as a bookmark was completely out of place. She closed the book up again and leaned back and sighed.

Trying to relax and calm herself from the experience she was just in, and the thumps of running got closer. The door opened once more and Sandra looked up. Ringo had return, still holding his suitcase in one wand and the drum sticks in another.

"The guys, and myself, were wondering," he said in a rush, "could we get your telephone number? In the case that we might be playing up in London around you, so we can let you know."

"Oh, sure thing!" Sandra shot up and pulled out her bookmark to write on. Ringo gave her a pen that he already had on hand, and she scribbled down the number to her cousin's house. She smiled as she handed it over to him. "Now hurry, or you'll be stuck on here for who knows how much longer."

Ringo flashed another toothy grin at her and hurried back out the door once more. She could hear him run down the walkway once more and within only a few minutes the train had started up again and started leaving the station. Sandra, now in here seat, felt much calmer. She was ready to wait out the rest of journey. She was now filled with positive thoughts about what might happen, and contemplations of if she would really receive a phone call at home from the Beatles.

It's that time again everyone, for another chapter! Hope you all enjoyed it, had much more actual conversing with the guys, so that's good right? Again, not sure how "in character" they all are, but I did my best. And that's what matters in the end.

Thanks a bunch to my reviewers, and a big shout out to The Nowhere Girl for completely making my day, week, month whatever with her review. It would mean a lot if you could drop my one telling me what you think. It only takes a few clicks of a button and some typing.

Oh, one more thing to add! I live in America, and I've only been on a train ride when I was four years old. This was all just brought up by research and stretching the truth. I really doubt there is a train that travels from Liverpool, to Birmingham, to London and all of the places in between...

But anywho, see ya soon~