Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update. I had a few chapters written up, but I never had time to proof read them. Then I got writer's block and had no motivation. I've got tons of new chapters coming, though. I know a few events that I'm going to add in, but I'm going to try and space them apart a little. Anyway, I'm sure you're tired of my rambling. On with the story:
The next morning I slept through breakfast, I always did. I got ready for the day and went downstairs. I decided that I would make myself a cup of tea. It had really grown on me since I've been here. As I poured the hot water into my cup I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. John walked into the kitchen looking a mess. His hair was all out of place, he was wearing an old white t-shirt and the same pants from yesterday. "Get in a fight with your bed? Looks like you lost." I began pouring hot water into another cup. I didn't know John very well, but I did know that he almost always woke up around the same time as me and had a cup of tea for breakfast.
He smiled as he sat down at the table. "No, you should see my bed. I'm sure that I won." He raised his hands above his head in victory. I handed him his cup and sat down opposite of him.
"It's the first time I've actually made tea, but I've watched Mimi do it enough that I think I've got it figured out." I said as I took a sip from my cup. John did the same. He put his cup down and placed both his hands around his neck and acted like he had been poisoned. I kicked him under the table and he laughed. "Hey, I'm sorry about yesterday. I guess I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, and I definitely shouldn't have told you to fuck off." John silently nodded as he took a sip of his tea.
The door opened and Mimi stepped through carrying letters in her hand. "Alice, you're awake. Good. I've just been to the post office and there were some letters for you." She handed the white envelopes to me. One with my mother's writing and another from my best friend.
"Thank you. You really didn't have to pick them up for me." She turned her attention to John.
"John, you really must make sure you're presentable before coming down here.
"I've got a shirt and trousers on, 'aven't I? I'd say that's presentable." He retorted. Mimi gave him a stern look and walked out of the kitchen.
"She's really tough on you, isn't she?" I observed.
"That's cause she's me Auntie. It's pretty much 'er job." He replied casually. I suddenly remembered what she said to John last night. I raised you better than that. It was safe to assume that she had taken over the role of a mother in his life. My mind was filled with questions: What happened to his parents? How long had he been living with his Aunt Mimi? Now didn't seem like the right time to ask. "Any road, I need a bath. Unless you wanna lick me clean?" He said as he rose from the table. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Then at least promise not to walk in on me." He walked out of the kitchen with a grin on his face.
I cleaned the leftover breakfast dishes and put them away. I took my two envelopes up to my room and read them. My mother's letter was full of parental worry and questions while Karen's was full of reminiscing and stories about her and the other girls going out. For the first time since I arrived I realized how much I wished I was back home sharing these moments with them. I replied to the letters and I was about to leave the house. John had caught up with me as I walked out the front gate.
"Where ya going, Wonderland?"
"I've got to mail these letters."
"Where ya going after that?" he asked as we started walking
"I haven't thought that far ahead yet." I admitted.
"Yer comin' with me. That's what yer doing."
"Am I, now? Says who?" I stopped and put my hands on my hips.
"I says. How many friends 'ave you made since you got 'ere? Exactly none. Now are ya gonna come with me or what?"
"Maybe I don't want you as a friend." I protested.
"Well too bad. You've got me." He grinned.
"Oh, lucky me." I replied sarcastically. As we walked John retrieved two cigarettes from his pocket. He lit them and offered one to me.
"I have my own you know. If I take that it doesn't give you permission to just go through my stuff again."
"I'm trying to be nice. Now, do you want the fucking cigarette or not?"
"Only because I don't want to waste perfectly good tobacco." I said as I took it from him.
"That's the one I took from you anyway. So really I'm just giving it back."
"Oh well bless your little heart."
We chatted about music as we walked to the post office and I mailed my letters home. I let John lead the way to wherever it was we were going. He walked to a door and knocked on it. A smaller boy opened the door. "Is yer dad 'ere, Mike?" John asked the boy who shook his head in response. "Good." John stepped into the house and stood at the bottom of the stairs. "Get yer ass down 'ere McCartney!" he yelled up the steps then turned and motioned for me to follow him into the living room.
After a few minutes I heard footsteps coming down the stairs and toward the room. Paul started talking before he entered the room, "John, must you yell every-" He stopped talking when he noticed I was in the room. "Oh, hello Alice." He greeted me sounding surprised.
"What's wrong? Aren't you happy to see me?" I said with a pout.
"Oh, I am. I just wasn't expecting it is all."
"Relax, it's just a joke." I laughed and Paul smiled in return.
"The poor girl was practically beggin' to come with me." John said. He got on his knees and folded his hands to mimic begging "'Oh John, please take me with you! I'm such a loser and have no friends of my own! Please let me come!'" He mocked my accent and voice.
"That's not what happened at all! You're the one that asked me to come with you." I said as I pushed him over onto the floor.
"See that, Paul? She can't keep 'er 'ands off me!" He said as he stood up.
"Off your throat maybe."
"I'd like to see you try, Wonderland."
"Keep it up, Winston." I warned him.
"Don't call me that!"
"Both of you need to calm down. You're both 'ere so it doesn't matter who asked who." Paul interjected. I rolled my eyes and John changed the subject.
"Are you ready to go now?" He asked and Paul nodded. I still had no clue where we were going.
I walked with the boys as they walked out of the house and up the street. John and Paul casually chatted along the way and I remained quiet, still annoyed with John. We approached a building that had a lot of people standing outside of it. I noticed a red sign above a door: The Cavern Club. George was waiting there for us. "Everything's ready." George said as we walked down the steps into the club. I could hear music getting louder the further we went down into the building.
When we reached the bottom of the stairs it opened into a narrow room with a stage with a band performing. I followed the boys to the front of the stage. I noticed Paul and George walk past it when the band finished playing. John turned to look at me. "I want you to stay right here, okay?" I could tell he could read the annoyance on my face. "Just trust me." He added. I hadn't realized that there was a man on the stage talking until the audience burst into applause. John turned and jumped up onto the stage as Paul and George walked on and another boy sat at the drums. George handed John a guitar. Paul counted and the boys began to play.
I stood in the audience and watched the boys perform. All four of them were dressed in leather jackets, black t-shirts, and drainpipe pants. I noticed that John looked more relaxed on that stage than I had ever seen him before. He obviously loved interacting and joking with the audience. While I watched the show I would occasionally catch John looking down at me and smiling. He really looked like he was in his element.
After the show the four boys exited the stage and three of them walked through the door to the back stage area. John jumped off of the front of the stage and landed in front of where I was standing. He grabbed my hand and led me toward the door the others had gone through. When we reached the room he turned to me with a smile. "Well? What do ya think?" he asked as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with a towel.
I playfully pushed him, "You never told me you played guitar! Or that you were in a band! That was amazing!"
"Yeah, we were pretty great. Weren't we, lads?" He turned and walked toward the others and they cheered in agreement.
"How often do you play here?"
"Every day we play the lunchtime sessions. We might get the occasional evening session if we're lucky." Paul answered.
"Or sometimes we play at the Casbah in Pete's basement." George added and pointed to the drummer.
The boys packed their equipment and we walked out a back door into an alley. We talked about the show until the other three went their separate ways to go home. "Why didn't you tell me you played?" I asked.
John shrugged. "I wanted to show you instead." Those were the words that came out of his mouth, but I knew what he really meant.
"You mean you wanted to show off."
"Now you know how a real musician does it."
"So you think your better than me now, do ya?" I asked with a grin as I retrieved my cigarettes from my pocket.
He stopped in front of the house and got close to my face. "I know I am." He said with a confident smile and took the cigarette out of my hand.
"We'll see about that, Winston." I said as I put a cigarette between my lips and held out the match for him to light his.
"I told ya not to call me that." This time he sounded more pleading than angry.
"That's why I said it." I retorted as I walked inside the house.
