Paul awoke the day after he called Linda feeling a bit better, though she had rejected him. What his Mum said rung true—situations always look better in the light of day. George Martin, The Beatles' producer, added to his good mood. He called to tell Paul that he wanted his opinion on some of the rough mixes before the recording session at noon. Being needed gave him a reason to get out of bed. Over the next few days, Paul stayed busy recording. The vibe in the studio was good, though not as good as it had been in the early days. All the while, he wondered if he was missing Linda's call.
After Paul called, Linda lived her life as she always had. She developed her photos, ran her errands and, of course, took care of Heather. In the back of her mind, however, she knew that life had presented her with a unique opportunity. Linda didn't have anyone to turn to for advice or to bounce ideas off of; she had to rely on her instincts. She could have told Danny but she knew what he would say—"what's there to think about?" The plane ride, for starters. But she would be with Paul. And she loved London the last time she went. Her instincts, and her heart, kept telling her to accept Paul's offer.
Normally, Linda didn't mind if her friends gossiped a bit—it seemed to be in their blood, what with most of them being journalists. But this situation was different because it was so private. The mere mention of The Beatles seemed to bring out the crazed fan in everyone. If she told her friends about her and Paul, soon, the entire world would know how they spent their time, where they went, their sex life… She would have close friends and old acquaintances ringing her at all hours to ask to come over, not to mention scores of reporters. To her, her neighbors and the doorman it would be an annoyance, but for Heather it would be a nightmare. Linda could handle the pressure of being in the spotlight; after all, spending time with Paul meant that she had to accept everything that came with it—tabloids, petty gossip and irate fans. But Heather didn't ask for any of that. Her main concerns were playtime, sleep, cookies and her mother's hugs and kisses.
Two days later, Linda left for Los Angeles with Danny. After unpacking, while Danny took a cat nap, Linda went to Aretha Franklin's hotel room for a photoshoot for Madamoiselle with the magazine's editor, Christopher.
"How was the photoshoot?" Linda shivered involuntarily at the question. "You alright?"
"Yeah," she shrugged off. "It was…well, it was sad at first. I opened the door and found Aretha crying on the sofa. She said her husband, who was also her manager, had really 'done her wrong'—that's how she put it. He just left! Her band and everyone else was hounding her about their money…I felt terrible for her. I just sat and listened as she poured her heart out. She didn't know me that well but I was the only person there, which is probably why she was talking to me. I gave her tissues and she kept drying her eyes and sipping slowly on vodka. She was so upset and I don't blame her." Linda took a sip of her drink. Shaking her head as she swallowed, she thought aloud, irritated, "I don't understand how her husband could have done that—the few times I'd met her, she was always such a nice person…so kind. How could you just walk out on someone like that?! Really, she just needed someone to listen to her."
"It sounds like it."
"After a while, she calmed and we started chatting about other things. I got a few shots of her then." Linda perked, telling Danny, "Suddenly, she exhaled, sat up straight and excused herself. Twenty minutes later, I was outside taking pictures of her in this gorgeous satin white dress. Aretha looked so confident and radiant, like you couldn't even tell she had been crying. I was touched. I would've understood if she didn't—she had been through so much that day. But she was determined. It meant a lot to me, not because of the money but because it says how much she trusted me. Aretha for the magazine looked good and did her job, but Aretha for me was more real. More honest."
"It's a testament to you, Linda. I'm glad she trusted you enough to let you take the shots you wanted. I'd expect that was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of situation. Nobody really lets you see them when they're that vulnerable except close friends."
"Yeah…" Linda sighed. The phrase "once-in-a-lifetime" remained at the front of her mind. She had another once-in-a-lifetime opportunity hanging in the balance.
The waitress approached their table. "Can I interest you in a dessert menu?"
"I'm full," said Danny. "Did you, Linda?"
As she looked down, Linda swirled her Tom Collins in her glass on the table. "…No, Danny. I'm fine thanks."
"Just the check," he told the waitress. They had nowhere in particular to be until tomorrow, but still felt like there was something else they should be doing, like painting the town red. "Do you want to go out? We could go to a club."
"You can," said Linda distantly moved her index finger back and forth along the rim of her glass. "I'm going to stay here. I don't really feel like going out." The only reason to go to clubs was to meet men. The only man she wanted to meet was Paul.
"Is anything wrong, Linda?"
"Paul asked me to come to London."
"Oh my god!" Danny exclaimed. "When are you going?"
Linda fidgeted in her chair. "Do you think he says that to lots of girls so he's never alone? He just invited me to come over and to call him when I got there. That's so vague. What if he wasn't serious?"
"'How can you take a chance that he's not serious? Linda, you love him! I remember how you gushed over him after you came back from London. You were one of the lucky few who got invited to the Sgt. Pepper photoshoot at Brian Epstein's house last year. I would say that I don't know how you managed to swing that but you could always attract the boys, Linda."
"I never said anything about love, Danny. I just said that he was very sweet and cute."
"…and smart, and talented, and groovy, and cool, and has a good sense of humor, and…"
"Alright, alright," Linda joked.
"You're in looove," Danny teased.
"Stop," she said with a gentle undertone of hurt.
Danny paused in thought. Linda had always talked about Paul but had never professed her love for him. "Well it's just…" he said, treading carefully. He knew that Linda wasn't angry but he wanted to be polite. Her friends all knew that she was wild about Paul. When an announcement was made at the end of last year that Paul and Jane Asher were engaged after a five-year courtship, everyone in her circle knew that she would be devastated. Linda, however, did not seem to mind. She expressed her well-wishes for them but said that she did not think they were right for each other…after only spending less than an hour with him. Still, as her close friend, he felt the need to speak up. "It's just the way that it comes off, I guess. I can tell how much you like him because you talk about him often. I don't want you to have your hopes dashed. I wouldn't want you to get hurt. I know you've been with other musicians but Paul is a Beatle, after all."
Linda smiled. "You're sweet, Danny," she said. "But I'm not delusional. I…"
"No, no, no," Danny cut in. "I never meant it like that."
"I know. I appreciate your concern but I'll keep my head about it," she reassured. All the while, her heart palpitated with thoughts of their previous meetings and phone conversations. That was the fourth time Paul had called her in a year. For someone who the press had described, until last month, as "happily engaged", he certainly took an interest in her.
"What do you have to lose? At the worst, you'll find out you're one of many girls. It's the risk you're going to have to take. It'll cost you a plane ticket—that's all! You'll get enough pictures while you're there to pay for the trip. On the other hand, if he's serious, Linda…if he's serious you'd better find out. Paul invited you to go. Just go." He then added, "Linda, you always wanted to get closer to Paul. If you don't go, you'll always regret it."
Two weeks passed before Linda decided to listen to her heart (and Danny). Part of the delay was figuring out her schedule for photography shoots and part of it was caring for Heather…but most of it was not calling to soon so she did not look overly enthusiastic. Though, it had to be on her own terms. Although leaving her daughter was not something she wanted to do, she had to test the waters with Paul somehow. She assumed that when Paul invited her to stay that it was going to be for more than a weekend. She had never spent longer than that with him. Perhaps they wouldn't get along as well as they had in the past.
Regardless of her doubts, she had to call Paul to tell him that she was coming. Luckily, Angela's mother offered to take Angela and Heather off her hands for the day, giving her plenty of time to call.
The first time she did so, in the late morning in New York, the phone rang endlessly. She quickly hung up, as she wanted to be sure that she would be free to talk.
Linda nervously bided her time by developing photographs and doing house chores before she called again. And again. Luckily, Paul picked up this time.
"Hello?" Paul panted, out of breath. He had run down a flight of stairs to his bedroom from the music room.
"Hi Paul," she responded with nervous excitement.
Linda didn't even have to say her name. While Paul beamed at the sound of her voice, his heart leapt. "Hello, Lin," he warmly replied, trying to catch his breath.
Taken aback, she responded, "how'd you know it was me?"
"I've got a musical ear…well, at least some people think I do," he remarked before coughing a few times.
Linda chuckled. "You think you could make a career of it?"
"It's worth a shot," he chuckled back. "So, uh, y'know, how've you been? How's New York, the Big Apple?" He desperately wanted to hear Linda say 'yes' but knew that he had to make small talk first. Paul could small talk with the best of them but, now, his skills were failing him.
Linda could tell Paul was quite nervous and happier than he had been the last time she spoke to him. "New York is good. It's hot and muggy here. That's the way New York summer always is. How's London?"
"It's, um, it's been…hot here lately. And sunny. Imagine that—sunny London!" he nervously laughed. "But," he paused, aimlessly drawing his finger along the mahogany varnished nightstand "I, um…I could use some company, y'know". Paul knew he was laying it on thick but he wanted Linda's answer.
"I'd like to come to London."
He jumped with excitement. She said yes! "Brilliant! I'll get you a ticket on the next flight out, then?" Paul couldn't stop grinning nor could his heart stop palpitating.
Linda could hear Paul's smile all the way across the Atlantic. She was thrilled that Paul was as excited as she was. "Not quite," she chuckled.
Before she could eke out another word, Paul interrupted, "whenever you come over is just fine, Lin. You'll have a ticket waiting for you at JFK. As soon as I have all the details, I'll give you a ring, love." 'And maybe a diamond one later,' thought Paul.
"I appreciate the offer, Paul, but I'll pay for the ticket."
Paul was surprised at her response—Linda certainly was independent. "Come 'ead, love, I invited you out," he insisted.
"It's very nice of you, Paul. Really. But I'd feel more comfortable if I paid for the ticket myself."
Paul cleared his throat. "But I was the one who invited you—at least let me pay for the ticket."
Linda politely, but firmly, declined Paul's generosity.
"Alright, if you're sure," Paul sighed. For now, he relented.
"Thanks," she said with some relief. Linda insisted on paying for her ticket to have the upper hand. She certainly had feelings for Paul but was wary of the average rock star's fickleness with women (and/or men). In case things didn't work out, she could call the airline on her own to schedule a return flight. "Where should I stay?"
"With me!" he laughed. "That's why I invited you, Lin."
Linda beamed with glee. "Oh, well, that's what I thought you meant when you asked."
"If it'll make you feel better, I'll have you pay room 'n' board." Linda chuckled. "Let me know when you have your ticket. Don't worry about when you schedule the flight. You can drop by the house any time, love."
"Thanks, Paul. I'll let you know."
"I'm looking forward to it. Is there anything you want to see in London? Or do?"
'You come to mind,' though Linda. "Hmm…well…I'll have to think about it. Do you have any suggestions, Paul? You'd know the city better than I do."
"I'll have to think of some places. Lately, all I've been seeing is the inside of studio two at EMI. I promise that whatever I find'll be better than that endless boat cruise in L.A."
"I enjoyed that. It was so nice to sit and chat on the water," replied Linda sincerely.
Paul could tell Linda was telling the truth. "Oh, uh, well, I'm glad you liked it then. Is Heather enjoying her summer holiday?"
"She really is. She's out with her friend, Angela, now. They went to the beach for the day." Linda and Paul's conversation could've gone on for hours. Mindful of the time, though, she politely ended the conversation, as the call was costing her a fortune.
After hanging up, Linda immediately tore out the phone book and began calling airlines about direct flights to London. Though she had already said 'yes', her heart was still pounding.
