I had not yet awaken from this dream. This beautiful dream. I rolled up the sleeves to the oversized mens work shirt I was wearing and took another glance out the window. Everything looked so small from all the way up here, the Earth looked so manipulated, so used with the streets and buildings covering the once raw land. I mentioned this to George who was practically asleep upon my shoulder, he agreed and referred to it as an 'impractical realization.' Today was a big day, it was the first show of the big European tour. We had to wake up quite early this morning to board the plane in London to Paris. I looked over at Paul who was still upset over this mornings mishap with some of the local fans. Apparently the London airport security had turned away all the spectating fans by telling them the boys wanted them to stay away. Which for the most part was true, I know for a fact that George could do without them most of the time and John has been on edge lately from the constant battering. However, Paul was a little more patient and seemed to even enjoy the crowds of screaming fangirls, and I think for the most part he knew they would be in trouble if the fans found out about "the Beatles" sending them away. "The Beatles Hate Their Fans!" I imagine the next big headline will entail.
Personally, ever since the 'haircut' I have been getting less attention from the aggressive fans, and have been able to blend into the scene, worst part was of course the ever growing ego of John Lennon, took total claim of the success. We had also discussed that for the most part I would continue to wear Ringo's clothing particularly in front of the fans and the press. We thought it would be the best to keep myself as unrecognisable as possible, if in case certain photos were to arise again in my own time period. Again John's idea. I looked over at him leaning against his wife Cynthia's shoulder, out like a light. He had to do some television thing last night to plug his book, so of course after a grand ol' celebration he didn't end up getting much sleep. As I looked over Cynthia caught my eye and smiled an adoring smile as if saying "isn't he sweet?" gesturing at the sleeping man on her arm. I nodded back and smiled at her before breaking our gaze to stare vacantly out the window again. Jane and Maureen were also coming along, the sat closer to the back of the plane chatting. Though I had been getting along with The Beatles' wives and girlfriends there were always some questionable glances from them whenever I was talking or playing around with their man. Which made me feel extremely guilty, especially when it came to Cynthia and even more so of Pattie. I did have feelings for George, and I know he must feel something too but Pattie is a big part of his future, and his music. She was so stunning, her clothes, those doe eyes, and flowing blonde hair. Pattie was lovely. You could instantly understand why she was a top model. She was wearing a Foale and Tuffin pink crepe mini dress. It was one of the first minis I had seen since I had arrived to this time period. She was perfect for the mini with her long, thin legs. She also had beautiful, long blonde hair. She was more cute than beautiful but she was still in a whole other league to myself, with my cropped hair and curvy figure, make that a whole other realm. As days went on, I only began to fear that what I was influencing here could be altering the future of The Beatles, and even worse, I could never truly be with George, this was the last thought I remember before slowly dozing off.
I was awoken quite suddenly to a short and sweet clear of the throat.
"Ah, hemm" I jolted out of my quickened slumber to see Pattie Boyd standing in the isle looking quite annoyed. I quickly took notice to the fact that George had fallen asleep on my shoulder. I immediately nudged him off, then in which he awoke with a jolt.
"Jesus George, now I'm gunna have to change into a whole new shirt!" I said jokingly angered.
"When, where and how can I be apart of this?" John Lennon poked his head between the space between mine and George's seats.
"Oh Lennon, how could you not be apart of that?" I sarcastically beamed in his direction, which he immediately sensed and tousled my own mop-top. As Pattie returned to her seat on the other side of George, he gave me a half-hearted smile, similar to the one I returned him. It was not that I didn't get along with Pattie, she was actually really fun and sweet a lot different from the other girls I have met here in '65. Let's just say Pattie Boyd was the last person I ever imagined myself getting along with, but I was pleasantly surprised. If it weren't for the colossal guilt I felt for kissing her future husband. The plane was beginning to land, so everyone who was casually standing about on the surprisely huge plane, for the 1960's that is, found a seat and buckled up. Even in my own time period I got serious headaches when landing, and was pleasantly disappointed to see that it was a quality that hadn't disappeared, even more proof for myself to banish the idea that I was dreaming. I closed my eyes and gripped the armrests tightly breathing slowly whispering the Hare Krshna mantra to myself to clear my state of mind.
"You feelin' alright Char?" George asked sounding quite concerned.
"Did you want some water, or something? Pattie offered.
"Thanks, no, I'm alright, I just get bad airplane head trauma," I explain, a chuckle escaped through the corner of George's signature side smile.
"It's alright now, love," spoke the posh accent of Brian Epstein who was sitting in the seat directly behind me.
"Grab my hand now love," he brought it up beside me and I took and I grasped it until the plane had made the landing. Brian and I had become quite close over the month or so I had been here, mostly because we had spent so much time together backstage or during press events., and frankly he was just a good bloke. I constantly tried to put out of my mind the tragedy that would ensue in only two years time. I quite often pondered if I could stop it from happening, or if it was best to just let it be.
We finally arrived at the Paris-Orly airport at 9.55am and were taken to the George V hotel. Around 50 fans were waiting at the hotel for the boys, which Paul said was far fewer from their previous visit. We did our best to make it into the hotel as quickly and unharmed as possible. Normal people account for traffic when planning to be punctual, however we have to work around the fans. Brian usually makes sure we have an hour to spare to maneuver the boys through the riots of fans. Before we knew it we were back on the bus headed to the first gig of the tour. Pattie and Cynthia stayed back at the hotel due to exhaustion from the flight, and I totally understood why they wanted the peace and quiet, it had been nothing but screaming the whole day from fans, and Lennon. The boys played two concerts today at the Palais des Sports, at 3pm and 9pm, each of which was seen by 6,000 people. The boys played their new European setlist that we had all made suggestions for, and it was truly a brilliant show. They played; Twist And Shout, She's A Woman, I'm A Loser, Can't Buy Me Love, Baby's In Black, I Wanna Be Your Man, A Hard Day's Night, Everybody's Trying To Be My Baby, Rock And Roll Music, I Feel Fine, Ticket To Ride and Long Tall Sally, which to this day is one of my favourites tracks Paul does. I had told him this before when we were picking songs for the playlist one afternoon. So before they started the tune, he charmingly dedicated it to me with a wink, before belting out the Little Richard hit. Brian looked annoyed at his adorable gesture.
"Make sure to thank if you end up in the ward tonight." I smiled to myself as he pointed to a group of Paul's lady fans whose eyes were burning in my direction. I stepped a little closer to Brian. We all gathered backstage at the end of the show. John had been calling people on a payphone trying to get people together to celebrate the kick off of the tour, while Brian gave Paul a stern talk about the attention he had caused around me, I sat around with Ritchie and George, we were knocking about on guitars, passing around a reefer waiting for security so we could leave the venue. John suddenly was skipping towards us in a gleeful whim.
"A mate of mine wants to have us over to celebaratte!"
"Tonight?" Paul asked as he joined us, sitting on a crate next to me.
"Yes Paulie, my mate Dr. Robert wants to have us to tea!"
"That dentist bloke? First of all it's past 9, and I'm not a fan of the guy John..." Paul questioned.
"Well then you don't 'ave to fuckin' come then, do ya McCartney?"
"Yeah, well I'm not, I promised Jane I would spend tonight with 'er back at the 'otel."
"Ringo!?" John questioned gesturing towards the drummer."
"No thanks John, I actually like to spend time with my wife," he chuckled. John shot Ringo that freaky John Lennon look that no photograph I had ever seen pictured. He quickly silenced his laughter.
"Georgey boy?" George looked at me, I smiled back at him.
"I'll come along, I suppose," George said sounding rather unimpressed.
"Brilliant, it shall be the Thrab Three tonight!" John loudly declared. He tightly grabbed my hand and pulled me off the crate. I was beginning to thoroughly enjoy his bluntness, it was so... him.
"John there is no way I am letting you take her on one of your little outings," Brian finally chimed in. However, there was something inside me that desperately wanted to go with him, I wanted to meet Dr. Robert.