Yeah Yeah Yeah (Beatles/Paul McCartney)

24. Save Yourself the Embarassment

July 1966
London

Alice

I got a call that I needed to return to BUA the very end of July. Paul and I were fiercely protective of our carved-out time together, both of us aware that real life would intrude in a few short days.

We stayed in my flat for the most part, only leaving to take a taxi to EMI to listen to their new record. He hijacked Studio 1's control room, explaining to the musicians and technicians that we'd be out of their hair in under an hour. He sat on the floor against the wall, pulling me into his lap as the opening chords of 'Taxman' played over the speakers. After a moment, he straightened his legs out and nestled me between them. Ah, ah, Mr. Wilson! He pulled me back against his chest, his body bracketing mine. Ah, ah, Mr. Heath!

"I think this song may turn your dad into a Beatles fan," he murmured into my ear. I closed my eyes and leaned against him, feeling his heartbeat as I took in the music. He was quiet for the most part, only interrupting to point out small things. It wasn't until the final strains of 'Tomorrow Never Knows' faded away that I turned to him.

"It's awful, just awful, " I said. "You should save yourself the embarrassment and bin it now."

Paul smirked. "Think the Beach Boys will shit themselves?"

"How could they not? It's marvelous."

"You mean it?" From the way he asked, I could tell that he bloody well knew it was fantastic. So I didn't reply, just leaning in for a kiss. One thing led to another and could have easily led to more, but we showed a ridiculous amount of willpower and managed to leave the studio to stumble home to finish what we'd started.

"George said the girls have been looking for me," Paul commented hours later. "The gate birds, I mean. Apparently, they can't sort out why I'm never home, so they went 'round his house to interrogate Pattie as she was leaving to go to the hairdresser."

"What'd she say?" I asked, reaching to the bedside table for a cigarette.

"Oh, I'm sure she said that I was off shagging a beautiful stewardess. Probably gave 'em your name and address. Not your phone number, though; that would be taking it too far."

I sobered for a moment, realizing that if things continued to progress with Paul, there would, at some point, be girls standing around on my street waiting for him to show up. I ignored the instinct to run to peer out the window to ensure they weren't already there.

Paul sighed and pulled me against his bare chest, taking the cigarette out of my fingers so he could take a drag.

"We'll keep it quiet for as long as possible," he promised. "There's no reason for you to deal with all the bullshit that follows me around."

I was quiet for a moment, lost in my thoughts. Finally, I spoke in a quiet voice. "What exactly are we keeping quiet?"

"Us." Paul offered a puzzled look, handing me back the cigarette. I took it and stubbed it out in the ashtray next to the bed. Then I rolled onto my back, my dark-eyed fellow staring down at me with a bemused smile on his face. I gently ran a finger from the middle of his forehead down his nose and across his lips.

"What're you worried about, Lissy?" he asked softly. I grimaced at his use of my family nickname, which prompted a chuckle from him.

I took a moment to collect my thoughts, then sighed. "I'm not going to be around much, Paul. It's just the nature of what I do and who I am. It's not that I won't want to be here with you... but there will be times... lots of times... when I want to, but I can't."

"I understand," he said, not looking fazed. But I had my suspicions that he had no idea what it would be like to be with me. Just like I had no idea what it would be like once this all went public, which it inevitably would.