Chapter 37: Do You Want To Know A Secret?
10:26 AM, December 31, 1967
John's POV
Delilah's thighs were nearly healed and she was walking without pain again. We hadn't had anymore trouble from the...thing since the leg incident and Christmas had gone by without a hitch, thankfully. The newest movie from the Beatles, "Magical Mystery Tour" had aired on television the day after Christmas and I hadn't even bothered to watch it. I was done. I didn't want to be a Beatle anymore. My creative resources were far from exhausted, but I just didn't have the same attitude toward the whole 'group' thing anymore. Don't get me wrong, I loved those three men to death, but I wanted it to be over, more than anything. Unfortunately, we were being encouraged to write more new songs for another album. And write, I did, just for my own purposes.
I jotted down the last few lines of my latest creation and smiled triumphantly at Delilah when I was finished. "I think you'll really like this one."
She raised her eyebrows and sipped at her tea. "Oh?"
"Mhmm. Let me play it for you," I scrambled out of my chair excitedly and grabbed her hand.
"Oh," she breathed in surprise, smiling and setting her cup on the table.
I led her into the living room and patted the spot next to me on the piano bench. She sat down shyly, gazing up at me through her thick lashes. I pressed my lips to hers gently; it reminded me of our first kiss. Our lips were barely touching, yet a wild current ran throughout my body.
I coughed a little, setting up my notebook on the ledge in front of me. My hands found all the right keys and I began, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
"All my little plans and schemes
Gone like some forgotten dream
Seems like all I really was doing
Was waiting for you
Just like little girls and boys
Playing with their little toys
Seems like all we really were doing
Was waiting for love
No need to be alone
No need to be alone
It's real love, yes it's real
Yes, it's real love, it's real
From this moment on, I know
Exactly where my life will go
Seems like all I really was doing
Was waiting for love
Thought I'd been in love before
But in my heart I wanted more
Seems like all I really was doing
Was waiting for you
No need to be afraid
No need to be afraid
It's real love, yes it's real
Yes, it's real love, it's real"
The last notes rang out and I lifted my fingers from the keys, settling them in my lap and turning to Delilah slowly. I was anxious to see her reaction and a little afraid. She was staring at me intently, an unidentifiable expression in her bright eyes. She blinked and tears rolled down her pink cheeks. I brushed them away with my thumbs and stroked her face.
"Well?"
"It's beautiful, John," she whispered, putting her hands over mine and squeezing them.
I kissed her and whispered against her lips. "Just like you."
She let out a strangled little cry and threw her arms around my neck, burying her face in my shoulder. I rubbed her back and sighed happily.
"So you like it then?"
"I love it!"
"I love you," I murmured, nuzzling her neck.
Delilah's POV
John told me he'd written more songs for me and I nearly broke down. It was so sweet. Never once in my life had I imagined anything like this would ever happen. I'd always thought that I'd be alone or end up in a loveless marriage. Yet here I was, with a man who adored me more than anything in the world. And he'd been professing his love for me through songs and poems for ten years.
I was lying with my head in his lap while he leaned over me, pointing out all the songs he'd ever written and telling me the history behind them. "This one...this one is probably the worst. I wrote it when Paul was chasing after you. I thought that you'd leave me and I guess this is just what came out of the whole thing."
I admit, "Run For Your Life" wasn't my favorite song he'd written, but it was catchy and it gave me a sort of strange feeling of satisfaction. The first time I heard it, I knew it was about me. I was baffled at how possessive John was of me, to say the least. But after awhile, I sort of thought it was sweet in a twisted way.
I studied the scribbled lyrics that ran haphazardly across the page, crammed between doodles, notes and crossed out words. "John, you weren't actually thinking of killing me...were you?"
"What? No, I was just extremely pissed off. You know how I can get sometimes. It was...well, I guess the first line is true. I really would rather see you dead than to be with another man. Not to say that I would kill you. Just that it would break my heart more than if you were dead; to know that you'd want someone else more than me. I hope I'm not frightening you, darling."
I relaxed in his arms, shifting my weight a little. "No, I get it...and what about this one?" I turned the page over, touching my finger to the title of the next song, "It's Only Love".
"What about it?"
I ran my index finger over the words, feeling the little bumps in the paper where pens had touched, words flowing out from the tips. "When did you write it?"
He sighed, clearly remembering the exact specifics of the origins. "I wrote it a few weeks after I met you. You know, you'd pass me in the halls at school and you'd walk ahead of me on your way home everyday...and I could never work up the nerve to even say hi. You were just so...wonderful. I'd never seen anyone like you before and I wasn't sure how to approach you."
I giggled. "Oh really?"
"Yes. I knew you weren't like the other girls; the slaggy ones. You were hard to get. I knew that from talking to all the other guys like me who'd tried to ask you out. You didn't take any of their shit and that drew me in like a moth to a flame. Eventually, we ended up becoming friends and I waited it out. I waited for just the right time to tell you. But that time didn't come for three years."
He paused, waiting for me to add anything in. I stayed silent, eager to hear what he had to say. He'd never told me any of this before. When he realized I wasn't going to interject, he continued.
"All my friends thought I was mad. Chasing you for three years. You knew how much of a git I was, but you didn't mind because I wasn't the same when I was with you. I'd never felt anything like it for anyone. Most girls threw themselves at me and then it was over after a quick shag. I didn't want to try any of that with you, because I knew you wouldn't take it,
"So instead, I took it slow. I tried to keep my feelings hidden and just be your friend. And that worked for awhile. When you came to my house on the night of your family's murder, I couldn't hold it back. Everything became clearer then. You let your guard down and I realized you felt the same as me."
I smiled as a surge of love washed over my chest. "Is that the first one you wrote for me?"
"Yeah. I suppose it is. Oh, wait. No, actually it's not..." he trailed off, flipping through the pages of his notebook wildly.
He finally stopped, settling on a page and prodding it with his finger. "This is the one."
There was no title, so my eyes skimmed the lyrics instead.
Everywhere people stare
Each and everyday
I can see them laugh at me
And I hear them say
Hey, you've got to hide your love away...
I knew what song it was, but the verses were in a different order. "Back in high school, I never knew you were so...human. I always heard bad things about you and never thought that maybe they were all wrong..."
John smiled down at me sadly. "They weren't wrong. I was a bastard to everyone until you came along. Even then, it took me awhile to realize that you weren't going to fall for me if I stayed the same."
I blushed and covered my face. "John, you're so cute."
"Not as cute as you, though," he countered, taking my hands from my face and kissing my nose.
I smiled and picked up his notebook from my stomach, feeling every page with my fingers as I examined every drawing, scribble, word and number.
"John?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you still miss her?" I whispered tentatively, my eyes exploring the two pages full of lyrics I'd never read before.
"Who?" he asked distantly, combing my hair with his fingers.
"Julia."
His hands froze and he stiffened. I'd definitely said the wrong thing. I shouldn't have even brought up the subject. But I couldn't help it. As I stared at those words that were undoubtedly about his mother, a wave of nostalgia and sadness crashed down on me. I hadn't thought about my own mother in nearly two years. How recent were these songs he'd written for her, anyway?
"Every day," he replied at last, his voice wavering.
"I'm sorry, Johnny. I shouldn't have said anything."
He relaxed and resumed toying with my hair. "No it's fine. Do you miss your family?"
"Not my dad," I replied truthfully.
I felt a stab of guilt and shoved it away forcefully, knowing fully well that I never loved my dad. He was just there, so I'd always felt obligated to at least pretend to have feelings for him.
"He was your dad, Delilah. I know he went off the deep end, but didn't you love him beforehand?"
I seriously contemplated his question for a minute, then shook my head promptly. To which John inquired, "But he loved you."
I shrugged. "Maybe."
"Did he do something to you? I mean, other than try to kill you..."
"What are you trying to get at?"
John's fingers crept down my arms, stroking them gingerly. "Why do you hate him so much? I've never heard of someone absolutely despising their parents for no good reason. And you're not giving me a reason."
"I just...I don't want to talk about it."
"You can tell me anything. You know that," he coaxed, sliding his hand up my shirt and grazing his fingertips across my stomach.
I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut, blocking back my tears.
"Why are you so afraid? It's just you and me. No matter what you say, you know I'll always love you and I'll always be here for you. Don't be scared, Delilah."
The tenderness and sincerity in his voice made me give up. The words poured out of my mouth uncontrollably. "He wasn't my real dad, John. Mine was shot in the war and my mum met this guy. They had Lucy and maybe I liked him for awhile. I liked him until...until he..." I stopped, my insides becoming numb as I recalled the memories.
"Until he what?" John implored softly, holding me closer.
I shut my eyes and swallowed the lump in my throat. "He raped me."
"God," he muttered, gathering me into his arms and turning me to face him.
I crawled onto his lap, his hands wandering all over my back as I shut myself off from the world. I'd cried enough about it over the years that I felt nothing but numbness whenever the thought intruded my mind.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" John murmured against my temple, leaving tiny kisses all over.
"I guess I was afraid."
"Of what?"
I sighed. "I don't know."