Chapter 6: For no one

It's been around three months I think, and I've grown tired of staying in the same room, not talking to anybody but my mother, although I try to hide it. I want her to think that I'm not budging, that I will do whatever it takes to see them again.

I awake by my Mother opening the door and locking it behind her as she enters. In one hand is a plate with toast and jam on it, and the other has a glass of orange juice. She sits down beside me on the bed and hands me the breakfast.

She smiles and lights a cigarette, and I can't help but flinch at the sight of the lighter. She slips it back in her pocket and takes a long drawl on her cigarette.

"Don't you ever try one of these, Stella. You have one, and you just can't stop. These are the devil."

I don't answer; I just bite down on my toast.

"Your friends called. Wanted to know where you are," She smiles slyly. "I wasn't able to address them correctly, however. I thought that maybe you could inform me on their names."

I'm about to tell her no, but then I remember a few months ago, and I stop.

"What did the first boy's voice sound like?" I mutter. She shrugs.

"Just tell me all of their names."

I bite my lip. "Paul," I start, but she shakes her head.

"Full names."

I roll my eyes. "Jacob Lester, Harry Lane, Paul McCartney, Richard Rockwell and David Forester."

She gives a smile of satisfaction.

"Thank you. I might look into them. You know, if you just promise me that you won't go after them, I can let you downstairs."

I shake my head. "No. I will stay until I can."

She raises and lowers a shoulder. "Suit yourself."

She closes the door and locks it once more, and I listen as she walks down the steps and then I break out laughing about how foolish she was. John, Paul, George, Stu and Pete are all fine, and they will be. I just pray that she doesn't go after Paul. I would make up a name for him as well, but she already knows him. I just hope that they come find me soon.

The next morning I awake to find my Mum standing in the doorway, frowning.

"Your friends called again." She says, and I find it hard to read her expression. "What did you say?"

"I told them that you weren't allowed to answer the phone, because you were grounded in your room," she goes on. "And when they begged to talk to you for just one minute, I declined, saying that the only way that you were using the phone was to contact your professors."

Silence.

"And then I hung up."

I nod.

"They didn't have much time to talk, they said they were calling from Germany. They also said to send you their love, and they will be back in two days. Apparently they have been gone for a few months."

"Which one did you talk to?" I ask, instantly regretting it.

"Oh, I talked to them all. They also said they'd try calling back tomorrow, because they have good news for you to hear."

I don't say anything at first, but then answer.

"Will you let me hear their news? It would make me happy, and maybe I wouldn't complain as much."

I try to hide the pleading sound in my voice, even though I'm desperate to hear their voices again.

She scowls. "And what makes you think that I'll let you?"

I shrug. "Forget it. Just go downstairs and read your stupid fantasy stories."

She raises an eyebrow and walks downstairs hesitantly.

The first thing I feel in the morning is my Mother shaking me.

"Get up, you lazy girl. Your professor is on the phone and wants to talk to you about homework."

I yawn and stretch my arms around my head.

"Which one?" She straightens herself up.

"Professor Best."

My heart thumps against my chest so hard I worry that she heard it.

I don't know a Professor Best. I only know Pete Best.

I sit up and get out of bed on wobbly knees as she hurries me downstairs.

It feels strange to walk again downstairs, and not just pacing the bedroom floor.

I look across the living room at the phone on the table, and hobble towards it.

"I wrote down the number he told me to use to call you back. Now I trust that you'll be responsible. I'm locking you inside while I'm out at the store."

I try not to smile at my luck. Then, she grabs her purse, steps outside and locks the door.

I can't dial the phone quick enough. My fingers move faster than they ever have, and I impatiently wait as the phone rings. Then I hear Pete's voice.

"Hello?"

"Pete! It's Stella!" I hear a couple of random outbursts from the other line, and a ton of cheering.

"Stella! It's Pete! Is your Mum home?"

"No, I'm happy to say she's not! So what's going on, what's the big news? I miss you guys a ton…" I talk so fast, I run my words together, and I hear their voices on the other end, talking over each other's.

"Here, we'll talk to you one at a time."

"Hey, Miss McKenzie… what did you get grounded for?" John. God, it's lovely to hear his voice. Then I remember what I need to tell them.

"Oh! Okay, you guys need to help me! She's keeping me here against my will, locked in my bedroom! She says that I can't talk to you guys anymore, and she burned my arm, then covered it with alcohol! There's still a scar, and I'm afraid she'll do it again if I'm not saved. This is the first time that I've been downstairs in three months, and I'm pretty sure that it's against the law, right? She can go to jail for child abuse, right? You guys have got to call the cops on her! Please!"

John makes a shushing noise, and talks in a calm voice.

"Okay, it's alright. It looks like you have a real bastard over there, and we'll get you out of this. And dammit, so help me, I will get my hands on that bitch and burn her face up like…" John's voice breaks away and is replaced by the rustling of the phone.

Then George's voice appears.

"Hey Stell-a!" He says, and I tell him everything.

"THAT FUCKIN' BITCH!" He yells in reply, and I'm startled to hear that kind of thing from George, and not John. The phone rustles again and another voice chirps in my ear.

"Hi, Stella-Bella!" Paul says cheerily.

"Don't worry, we'll get that bastard if it's the last thing we do. You know, it's New Year's Eve tomorrow, right? We'll come and get you with a boatload of cops tomorrow, and it will be a new year with a free Stella. How does that sound?"

"Great. I miss you a lot… what's the good news?"

Paul's voice gets really jumpy all of a sudden.

"Oh! We landed a recording contract with George Martin! You know, that man who declined us before? Well, he likes us now, and he wants us to come in! And we have some more news… not that great… But we're sacking Pete."

"What… why?" I say, somewhat disappointed.

"Because our manager, y'know, Brain Epstien, he wanted a new drummer, someone with more talent. He mentioned Ringo Starr."

I don't reply, and some of the words are breaking off.

"Well, we really ought to go… this man who's hired us is gonna come in here and burn OUR arms if we don't get in there and put on a show… I'll see you tomorrow, and you won't see your "Mum", believe me. George is saying that you can stay with his family for a bit, y'know, as a foster family, or somethin'. That sound good, Stella Bella?"

The line is getting really hard to hear from, and I'm disappointed to know that our conversation will end shortly.

"Oh, and one more thing Stella," Paul whispers.

"Yeah, Paulie?" He takes a deep breath.

"You won't laugh?" His voice cracks a little.

"I promise, now what is it?"

"I think I… kind of… love you. Do you… love me back?"

I'm about to respond when the phone entirely stops transmitting and the irritating sound of the phone beeping fills my ear.

My heart stops for a second as I clutch the receiver to my chest, and I fall back on the couch and let my smile show as much as it can, until my cheeks cramp.

Then, I hear my mum unlocking the door, and I run upstairs and lay on my bed, pretending to be asleep.