"Ob-la-di ob-la-da, life goes on, ah! Ladadada life goes on!"
Previously:
"Okay, I'll leave you to rest some more. Now you take care of that eye, all right?" Brian ordered. "Get it better as soon as possible. We don't want the press to keep asking you about it, now do we?" He laughed and left the two of them alone again.
George turned around to face Sam. She mouthed a grateful 'thank you', too shocked too speak.
"Hey don't worry about it, remember?" George laughed and put the towel back on his bad eye. "You know you were a funny drunk right? It'd be hilarious to see that one again!"
She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right." Sam laughed along with him.
"So this is going to be a bit rough because we've only practiced it once or twice." Paul said as he sat Sam down in a chair on the opposite side of the glass window. The others got their instrument ready in the studio.
They were all at Abbey Road Studios to record the newest Lennon/McCartney track. "For America." Paul kept saying. "Them Yankees better like this one or they never will."
"Oh, okay?" Sam said, confused. "But as much as I like hearing you guys sing, I thought nobody else was a loud in the recording studio except for the band and Mr. Martin. Especially girls. By the way, where is Mr. Martin?"
"I know we have that rule against others in here." Paul replied. "But we needed an opinion from a real fan."
"And our fan base mainly consists of pre-pubescent girls that don't know what the meaning of blue balls is." John said with a knowing smile.
Sam scrunched her eyebrows. "What are blue balls?"
"Well you see Sam, it's when a man's—"
"OKAY!" Paul clapped his hands loudly and made a face at John. "Not appropriate at this time." He scolded. John looked at him with the most angelic face her could make. "But anyways, we need a real opinion. Martin may like it, but he's not a 'fan' fan. And I think he went to go get a drink from the vending machine before we start recording."
"All right, so let's hear it." Sam propped her arms the switchboard and leaned on her elbows. "Talk is cheap." She smirked.
John counted off before playing a short guitar riff. "1, 2, 3."
Oh yeah, I´ll tell you something
I think you'll understand
When I say that something
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
Oh, please, say to me
You'll let me be your man
and please, say to me
You'll let me hold your hand
Now let me hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
And when I touch you i feel happy, inside
It's such a feeling
That my love
I can't hide
I can't hide
I can't hide
Yeah you, got that something
I think you'll understand
When I say that something
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
And when I touch you I feel happy, inside
It's such a feeling
That my love
I can't hide
I can't hide
I can't hide
Yeah you, got that something
I think you'll understand
When I say that something
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your ha-a-a-a-a-a-and
"So?" George finally said after they dramatically posed for the ending. "How was that?"
"Gah! I love it!" Sam let out a familiar, hysterical scream. "That was perfect!"
"But too bad we didn't record that one take." Ringo said in realization. The other guys groaned and threw things at him. "Oi, watch it!"
Paul shook his head. "Don't remind us."
Two months later, France Tour…
The band got together at Sam's house to get ready for their tour in France. They each had left their homes very early that morning so fans wouldn't spot them.
"Which should I bring?" Paul held up two caps, one of them black and the other one brown. He took turns placing them on his head. "Which looks better? The black or the brown one?"
John scratched his chin and looked at him thoughtfully. "I think you should leave the no-good bassist underneath at home."
Paul jokingly threw both John's way. The rhythm guitarist ducked just in time so they hit the wall behind him. John stuck his tongue out and blew raspberries at Paul. "Hey, whoa, whoa!" Sam saw them goofing off as she came from the hallway. "Watch where you're throwing things! And stop horsing around! Packing, remember?" She reprimanded.
John and Paul exchanged deflated looks. "Yes, mum." They went back to packing their luggage.
"Hey is this you Sam?" Ringo picked up a picture off the top of the fireplace.
Sam took if from Ringo and examined it. "Oh no, that's my mum, from when she and my dad went to London for the first time."
"Really? You guys look exactly alike!" Ringo put the picture back.
"Oh don't forget these now." Sam picked up his drumsticks from the dining table.
Ringo laughed. "Yeah, almost forgot about those." He packed them in his suitcase.
Sam rolled her eyes. "Gosh, if you did what would you do?"
Ringo shrugged. "Dunno. Chopsticks?"
"Hey, hey how are you guys doing?" Mr. Stratford joined them all in the living room.
"Oh, we're packing all right. Thanks for letting us use your house to get ready." George said respectfully. They could have gone to George's house next door but it was getting a much needed renovation. Since the band was popular in the UK, and now in other countries, George could afford for his family to have that luxury. His parents were staying with his aunt in the meantime.
"No problem, we're close to the train station so you won't have trouble getting there." Mr. Stratford replied as he went to the kitchen. "And please boys, just call me Uncle Matt. Mister makes me feel like my hair is falling out."
Sam giggled. "But dad, your hair is falling out." She whispered to him.
Uncle Matt looked at her with a mock-stern expression. "Yes, but we don't want them to know!" He said in a heavy Irish accent.
George smiled. "All right, Uncle." Ringo was right. Sam did get her looks from her mother for she looked nothing like Uncle Matt. He had auburn hair, much like John's and his nose was slightly upturned. But the one thing they had in common were their eyes. They had the same piercing gray eyes.
Sam joined her dad in the kitchen and went to get a glass of water. "I'm so excited! My first time in another country!"
"Which reminds me, I have a surprise for you. Sort of a going away present." Matt opened one of the cupboards and reached for a package on the top shelf. He handed it to Sam. "Open it."
"Okay." She took the cover off and looked at her father skeptically. "A whistle?" Sam took it out of the box.
Matt bent down to Sam's level. "It's a rape whistle. Haha." He whispered. "If you're ever in any sort of trouble, you blow it as hard as you can so someone can come and get you. At least that's what the man at the store said."
Sam bit her lip to prevent a giggle from escaping her lips. What an awkward gift! "Er, thanks dad." She put it around her neck. "I'll be sure to use it… if I'm ever stuck in a rut."
He kissed Sam on the top of her head. "Hey but I mean it. It's your first time in another country and you have no idea of what goes on there."
"Daddy, I'll be fine." She assured him.
"You don't know that. France may be nice or it may be wild. I don't know, haven't been there meself you know." He laughed out how little he had seen of the world.
"I don't think I know where this is going…"
"The point is Samantha," Sam now knew her dad was being serious. "I don't want you to get hurt. If anything goes wrong, I won't be there to protect you."
"But why aren't you coming dad?"
"I've got to work. Someone needs to pay for living." Matt chuckled. "I can't take off just yet."
"Oh all right." Sam gave the whistle a good blow. "Thanks for caring so much. And uh, for the whistle."
"Ah, but I'm just giving your leg a pull lass. That wasn't the real present." Matt opened the oven and took out a similar-looking package. "Here you go."
"Cor, it's like early Christmas." She opened up the box. Her eyes widened. "Dad, you didn't have to!" She took the bracelet out of the box. It was a charm bracelet with one heart charm.
"I figured that you'd find a charm where ever you guys went." Matt took the bracelet and put around her wrist. "It's real gold you know."
"Aww, dad it must of cost you an arm and a leg!" Sam looked up at him gratefully and hugged him. "Thank you!"
"Oh it's nothing. Just as long as you fill it up." He patted the top of her head. "Now go on and finish packing. Mr. Epstein will be here any minute now."
At that moment there was a knock on the door. Matt looked up and smiled. "Prompt as usual."
John opened the door to greet the manager. "You've arrived Eppy!" He pretended to dust Brian off. "We didn't think you'd make it."
Brian shooed him away and smiled distastefully. "Good to see you to Lennon." He turned to the rest of the band. "Hurry up boys," Brian saw Sam. "erm, and girl. Pack the rest of what you need. The taxi is waiting out in the front and he's costing me a fortune per minute he's waiting!" They all scrambled to put the last of what they needed in their luggage.
"Thanks Matthew for letting them hang out here." Brian said thankfully as he shook his hand. "I hope the rascals weren't too much trouble to you."
"No, don't worry Brian. They were all right."
They heard a honk outside. "Oh better go! Thanks again Matthew!"
"Bye daddy!" The boys chorused as they headed out.
Sam hugged her father. "Bye dad." She grabbed her bags and went for the door.
"Bye Sam." He waved. "I'll miss you."
Sam gave him one last look before leaving. "I'll miss you too."
Sam closed her book shut and put it back in her tote when she saw the boys coming. She looked up. "You're late."
"Oh sorry." John said, though he didn't mean it. "Fans you know. Got to satisfy their needs."
"Yeah, my hands cramping up from signing so much autographs." Paul rotated his wrists. "I think I messed up about half of them."
Sam shook her head and smiled. "They're happy just to be there. Now let's go, Mr. Epstein is already inside and I told him I'd wait for you guys out here." They followed her inside the restaurant, weaving through a maze of empty tables. Like always, the restaurant was completely reserved just for the Beatles.
"By the way Sam," George sidled up next to her as they kept walking. "What was that book you were reading?" He began rummaging through her bag. Sam didn't mind though, he was just curious. George read the cover when he found it. "The Count of Monte Cristo?"
"Yeah, it's really good. I could lend it to you when I'm finished. I figured since we are in France, it'd be perfect to take the book with me."
"What's it about?"
Sam suddenly got excited. She loved talking about books she's reading. It was just like the telly but it's all happening in your head. "I'm right in the middle right now, but I know the book is about revenge. Well there's this guy named Dantès, and he's wrongly accused for supporting Napoleon and is arrested. So it takes place in the 1800's as you can see. And then he gets out and—well actually I should stop, don't want to spoil it for you. But it's really good."
"Oh, I'm sure." George gave the book back to Sam when they got to their table.
"You're late." Brian said in the same tone as Sam.
"Sorry Bri, too busy crowd pleasing." Ringo answered. They all scooted themselves into the booth.
"All right, now that you're all here let's order." Brian called up the waiter and he patiently took their orders. Sam and Brian were going to split a pot au feu, beef stew with mixed vegetables, because they found out it was too big for either of them to eat by themselves. Paul had the poulet frites, chicken and fries, not knowing how the other dishes would look or taste like. He's had his share of food poisoning and wasn't going to take any chances.
"I'll have what he's having." George and Ringo said in unison and pointed at Paul.
"Escargot please!" John said in his best French accent. The waiter finished writing down the orders and left with their menus.
"Escargot John?" Paul said, shocked. "Do you even know what that is?"
"Sure I do, snails right?" John grinned widely at the bewildered faces looking at him.
Sam raised an eye brow. "Yeah, snails. As in the kind that you see crawling on the sidewalk. That type of snails."
John didn't see what the big deal was. "What? I'm willing to try anything."
"O-kaay." George sang. Everyone knew John was a psycho. But he was their psycho, so it was okay.
"So good show tonight, huh boys?" Brian said as he spread his napkin on his lap.
"It was all right." Ringo said. "Except for that electrical problem before the show. Delayed us for about 10 minutes. I didn't think it would work."
Sam nodded. "Oh yeah, I saw that. Neil told me everything was all hooked up to some radio program and it just blew up."
Paul agreed and began making "exploding" hand motions. "Yeah, it was just like, boomf! Boomf!... Boomf!" His hands spread out and went in a circular motion with every "boomf."
"But other than that, the French electrical supply was really good." John said. After a half hour of chatting, their food arrived. John's plate sizzled and smoke rose from it. When the waiter put down their plates and left, they all glared at John. John looked up at them from his plate. "What?"
Everyone, including Brian, pounded their fists on the table and chanted loudly. "Eat it! Eat it! Eat it!..." John looked back down at his plate and gulped heavily for effect. He speared one of them with his fork and shoved it into his mouth. The other five roared with laughter when he swallowed. John had a thoughtful look. "Hmm… not that bad. Tastes pretty damn good actually!" Paul and George looked disappointed. They were both waiting for John to spit it out and go crazy or something.
"Only Lennon would think so." Ringo whispered to Sam. She giggled into her hand. They ate, they laughed, they all had a great time. Halfway through their meal, the waiter came back to their table.
"Monsieur Epstein, zere is a phone call for you in ze kitchen." The waiter said in lame English.
Brian looked at him uncertainly. "For me? Do you know who it was? And how'd they know I was here?"
The waiter thought hard. "I forget. Ze man had a long name, I cannot pronounce, but he said eet waz very important."
Brian slid out of the booth. "Well all right, if it's that important." He followed the waiter to the awaiting call.
"Hey I heard you mess up during the show." Sam said when Brian left.
John had finished his meal already. He slumped down on the bench and rubbed his stomach complacently. "What do you mean?"
Sam cocked an eyebrow. "I wanna hold your gland?"
John laughed. "Oh, that wasn't a mess up." John and Paul every now and then would slip in suggestive lyrics during concerts.
"Wouldn't make a difference, they wouldn't understand anyway." George said. "But you know what the problem was?"
"You're shite guitar solo?" Paul sneered.
George shook off the snide comment. Of course he was joking. "The crowd was mostly fellahs."
John nodded and smiled. "Yeah fellahs."
"It seems that the mademoiselles had a curfew." Ringo piped up.
Brian came back to their table. He looked as though he had just seen a ghost. "What's the matter Mr. Epstein?"
"Tha-that was Ed Sullivan. I was just on the phone with Ed Sullivan." He replied.
"And?" Paul asked with a hint of glee in his voice. They all knew he was a big man in America.
"I Want to Hold Your Hand just went to number in America. Ed Sullivan, the man who launched Elvis, he wants you to come and headline his show!" At this point, Brian was practically shaking. "Nothing could be more important than this lads. Nothing!"
The boys laughed hysterically and nearly leapt out of the booth. They whooped and hollered like mad boys danced and sang around in a huddled circle. Sam and Brian smiled at them proudly. They finally made it.
John picked up the bottle of champagne from the table and started shaking it. He stood on the bench. At this point, Brian was too proud to scold him. "Where're we going lads?" John asked.
The other three kept their arms around each other and responded in their best American accents. "To the top, Johnny, to the top!"
"And where's the top?"
"To the toppermost of the poppermost!
John popped the cork out, releasing the white foam everywhere. "WHOOOOOOO!"
And they really did make it to the toppermost.
A/N: And that was chapter… umm… *checks files* chapter ten! Yes, that was chapter ten and thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it! Sorry there wasn't much Sam/George-ness in this chapter, it was more of a filler to set the tone for the next couple of chapters. So I'm sorry if it bored you! If some parts here seemed familiar, you're right, I did get it from real life. The last part was from In His Life: The John Lennon Story and Paul's boomf was from an interview if you're wondering. I wanted to post this chapter today because today is my birfday! Haha so here's my gift to you! Think of it as that little goody bag you used to get in elementary school whenever it was somebody's birthday. But anyways, thanks again for reading and reviewing the last chapter. Now please fulfill the second R in the abbreviation R&R (and no, I do not mean relaxation! But I guess you could do that as well.) Okay, I need to stop rambling, but please review! Question of the chapter: Funniest Beatle moment? Sources please! :D
