Yeah Yeah Yeah (Beatles/Paul McCartney)

23. Aliiiiiice

July 1966
London

Alice

The day I returned from the disaster in Manila, my dad rang. No daughter of mine would... long-haired Communist Scousers.. you've put at risk the very soul of the Empire. Well, maybe not quite that dramatic, but it wasn't far off. He'd ended the call by demanding that I join him at my grandmother's house, which meant that he wanted the full weight of the Edwards legacy to be plainly visible as he scolded me.

Since then, I'd been pretending that the day of reckoning would never come. It wasn't difficult: Paul and I existed in a cocoon of our own making for a few glorious days. We tuned out the outside world and blissed out on each other, making up for months' worth of conversation and sex. Every now and then, I'd find him watching me with a worried look on his face, but he quickly flashed his megawatt smile and my thoughts scattered elsewhere.

"Letsstywhofor," Paul mumbled next to me. We were both used to sleeping alone, so we inevitably wound up trying to claim the same spot on the mattress. That morning, his arm was wrapped around my waist, his legs tucked behind mine. He rubbed his chin lightly on my shoulder blade, and I reveled in the feeling of two days' worth of stubble against my skin.

"That doesn't make any sense," I murmured, my eyes still closed.

"Well, I reckon you've finally fucked me senseless, Lady Alice."

Groaning, I turned in his arms and rested my forehead against his chest, blindly swatting his arm.

"It's too early," I grumbled. "Who knew you were a morning person? It doesn't seem right. What sort of pop star are you anyway?"

I felt his hand on my cheek and opened my eyes to see him take a strand of my hair and twirl it around his finger before tucking it behind my ear.

"It's Day 5, Alice, and I still fancy you."

"Didn't realize you were worried about losing interest so quickly."

"Mmm," he said. "I thought maybe I'd go off you around Day 4, but it turns out that I like you even more."

"Because I fucked you senseless?"

"Now you're talking," he said, angling his hips towards mine. I laughed and pushed him away.

"I have to go see my dad today, you savage. I don't have time to roll around in the proverbial hay."

He propped himself up on one elbow and rubbed his eyes. "It's Thursday, already? That can't be right. It was Monday just yesterday."

"It was Wednesday just yesterday," I countered.

Paul looked up at the ceiling as if going through a mental to-do list. With a slight nod of his head at a silent decision he'd made, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. I watched as he padded across the room, suddenly full of purpose. It was annoying, really: he didn't wake up slowly like a normal person. It was as if a switch flipped, and he was fully charged.

I pulled a pillow over my head, reveling in the darkness. I heard him say a few words on the phone in the living room, and then he whistled a vaguely familiar tune as he walked to the loo. The water hit the porcelain sink as he washed up, followed by the buzz of his razor. I was halfway back to sleep when I heard his footsteps approaching. With a groan, I peeked out to see a freshly-shaved and very energetic-looking Paul.

"You're allowed to be tired, you know," I said, pulling the pillow back over my face. "It's perfectly okay for you to say, y'know, I've had a tough year, and I'm going to sleep as long as I bloody well like."

The bed shifted as he thumped down next to me.

"The thing is," he said, bending down to move the pillow and kiss my forehead. "I'm afraid if I ever slow down, I'll lose all momentum and stop forever. So I just keep going."