If I Fell - PaRt 2
For the next two days, I found it difficult to think of anything but John and Paul. To be honest, I couldn't pinpoint what it was about them, they were not like any boys I'd known before. Not that I knew a lot of boys, in fact I'd never had a boyfriend, not a proper one anyway. The sort you'd have in the playground when you were six years old, that you would play kiss chase with. I was quite shy in my own way, which didn't help matters! This was mainly due to boys not showing a lot of interest in me as I grew up – perhaps because I was quieter than a lot of girls. Living in Liverpool, girls were quite brash and loud – not wallflowers like I was. I had never really felt comfortable flirting, I was happier reading a book or listening to records in my bedroom. I was ridiculously inexperienced, but I had felt okay about not being with anyone. Now however, I was daydreaming about these two lads, with their black clothes, and different haircuts. They were so interesting. Particularly John, maybe because of the hard shell he'd presented – he had such a rebellious and "couldn't care less" air to him, contrasted with Paul's happy-go-lucky and warm personality. I wondered how they'd met and become mates, I was definitely going to ask this on Friday – I'd already decided that I was going to go to the Cavern Club and see them play. I couldn't wait to see them again, it made me a little uneasy that they had such a powerful effect on me, when I barely knew them.
I barely slept Thursday night for the excitement, mixed with nervousness at bunking off work – I'd never done that before. I didn't intend to make a habit of it either, but I wasn't going to miss the chance of seeing The Beatles. After trying fruitlessly to sleep I got up at seven 'o clock and surprised myself when I entered the kitchen to find I was the first up! That never happened. I brewed a pot of tea and stood looking out the kitchen window at the frost on the grass. Butterflies started in my stomach as John's face entered my head, blowing smoke out... Normally I didn't approve of smoking, but it suited John and Paul somehow. They were challenging all my perceptions of what an attractive boy was. I was awoken out of my daydream by Mum coming in the kitchen, "Oh Ellie, you ARE up early! Would you like some toast?" she asked. I shuffled away from the window and sat down at the table with my cup of tea nodding. Mum busied herself with the grill, and I watched her humming to herself. She'd been quite a honey in her youth and had had lots of boys interested in her. She hadn't suffered from the shyness I did, and I envied that. I wished that I had her confidence. "Mum... how do you know if a boy likes you, or is just being nice?" I asked. She turned around with a curious look. "Have you met someone love?". I half shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. I didn't want to reveal anything about John and Paul, at least not yet. "Sort of, there's a lad who comes into Timothy White's, collects a prescription for his mum" I lied through my teeth. I didn't want to lie but I felt if I told her about two lads in leather jackets who smoked she'd not be too thrilled. "Well love, I always found if a boy is nice to you, he DOES like you. They don't act nice if they don't, they want you to think they're nice back", she told me. I felt a little deflated at this. Paul had been really friendly but John, who I liked a little more, had been much harder work and not seemed that bothered if I liked him. But admittedly, he had been the one who had invited me to the Cavern. "So, if a boy acts like he doesn't care much what you think of him, that means he isn't interested?" I asked, hoping for an answer that would put John back in a favourable light. Mum screwed up her nose as she buttered some toast. "Well not necessarily. It could mean he hasn't got a good opinion of himself, and doesn't think you'd like him. Or he's shy. Or he simply isn't that nice a boy. What's your lad's name?" she finished. Oh no, what do I say? "Paul" I blurted out, not really knowing why. Maybe because he'd been kinder to me. "Paul? Well maybe invite him for tea next time he comes in.". I had an image of Paul sitting in our front room, sipping from one of my mum's china cups in his leather, and had to stifle a giggle. "Maybe, thanks Mum. Better get ready for work", I said as I settled my cup down on the table.
I wanted to make sure I looked as nice as I could so I did my makeup very carefully. I decided to experiment with my eyeliner, and drew quite thick lines, my eyes seemed to pop out. I powdered my face as normal, and dug out my block mascara. I spat on it to wet the block and gingerly applied it to my lashes. Didn't like using it that much as it seemed to irritate my eyes but it did look nice, but made a mental note to buy one of the Mascara-matics I'd seen in the chemist. I finished off with a pale pink lipstick. I felt quite groomed for once, for work we weren't encouraged to wear a lot of make up. I had to rummage through my drawer for my tailcomb and backcombed my hair, then pinned it up, making sure I used plenty of Suave hairspray. Nearly choked me but I didn't want to risk my hair falling down. I decided to go wearing my work clothes, and I put my black dress, pink cardigan and black shoes in a bag – I could change in the Cavern's toilets. Mum had to go to work at the launderette and I waited to hear her leave, as I didn't want her to question what was in my bag. I slipped out 10 minutes after her, and nearly skipped to the bus stop, I was full of excitement. Walking down Yewtree Road, it suddenly dawned on me that I yet to ring in sick. "Christ" I thought, "lucky there's a phone box down here". I carried onto the box and rooted around for some change, and dialled the number. A voice answered, "Hello Timothy White's, Mr Jackson speaking? ". Mr Jackson was my boss, and by all accounts a nice man. He was in his mid fifties and enjoyed telling myself and Vera, my fellow dispenser, about his time in the war. "Hello Mr
Jackson, this is Ellie, I'm afraid I won't be in today as I have a cold. I'm so sorry".I felt my heart thumping as I told this barefaced lie. Luckily he was very good about it. "Not to worry my dear, I need you to be fit as a fiddle when you work. Get plenty of rest and fluids this weekend, and try to come back next week ". I thanked him, replaced the phone and left the phonebox quickly as I saw my bus, the 76 approaching. As I got on I felt such a sense of excitement and nerves, it was quite wonderful. The bus ride itself was about 45 minutes, but I enjoyed it, it gave me chance to think of things to try and say, though I had a sinking feeling I'd make a fool of myself somehow. The bus swung into North John Street about ten to nine, I couldn't believe the street name, what a strange coincidence. Although I'd been to the city centre with my mum, I don't remember ever coming this way, it was all unfamiliar. I suddenly felt a pang of anxiety – that I was on my own here. As I got off the bus, I paused to ask the driver where Mathew Street was. He motioned back behind us "There love, that little side street, that's it ". Relief! I thanked him and made my way off the bus. I'd planned to go and window shop until about 12, then make my way back. I peered down Mathew Street, it was a twisty little street and looked very interesting. I decided to go down it and at least find the Cavern Club so I knew where it was. There were lots of tradesmen watching me as I walked down, they made me feel uneasy as they seemed quite rough. I kept my eyes on the buildings and they fell on a colourful red and yellow sign on the side of a building - "CAVERN".
There appeared to be a doorman outside already, at this hour. He was talking to a girl about my age, maybe a bit younger. She had a short brown bob, and was wearing a school uniform. "Look love, nobody gets in here before lunchtime alright, you'll just have to wait!" he said with a tone of exasperation. He readjusted his thick rimmed glasses and stood in front of the door. The girl turned away looking crestfallen, and put her school bag on the ground using it as a makeshift seat. She looked freezing, I felt very sorry for her. "Are you here to see the Beatles?", I asked as I approached her. She looked up with excitement, possbly because I used the word "Beatles". "Yeah, he won't let me in yet though, I'm bloody cold" she sniffed. I sat down on the cold ground next to her, and rubbed my hands. "Are you bunking off school to see them?" I asked with a grin. A dreamy look appeared on her face which was quite funny. "Yeah! They're amazing! I think I love George!" she cooed. George? Must be another group member I thought. "What about you?" she said. "Even worse, I'm bunking off work. First time ever" I replied. As I sat surveying the street, watching the men loading vans and standing around smoking – it struck me it was a side of Liverpool I'd not really seen before. As nervous as it made me, it excited me too. The Beatles were opening up a new world to me, and I felt quite eager to leap in.