Let It Be (A Beatles Story)

Chapter Five

Well, she was just seventeen,

You know what I mean,

And the way she looked,

Was way beyond compare. 

So how could I dance with another, 

When I saw her standing there?

I woke up to this lovely tune playing in the bedroom upstairs. Paul must have finished packing, and got bored. 

I got dressed and cleaned up quickly while Paul was occupied with his guitar. I went up to his room and knocked on his ajar door. 

"Oh, did I wake you up?" He said, setting down his guitar. 

"No, you didn't." I said. "That song is one of my favorites, by the way."

He smiled, and got up. "When are you turning seventeen, Elle?"

"What's the date?"

"Um...March 26th."

"Oh, well it's actually rather close then. My birthday is the tenth of April."

"We might just have to celebrate it." Paul said. 

"I think you just want an excuse to have a party." I said. He laughed. 

"By the way, did you need a suitcase for your things? We have to leave soon, so I figured that you might want something to hold your things." He rummaged through his dresser. "You're going to want to leave your coat out, though. It's cold outside." 

He handed me a small suitcase and I thanked him for it. I stuffed all of my things inside as Paul came running down the stairs. 

"We need to hurry," He said, tugging on his coat. I pulled on mine. 

He smiled as we ran out to the car. 

"Are you ready for a trip to London, Miss Sullivan?"

"Absolutely, Mr. McCartney."

Let's just say our encounter with fans was a lot like the one in the beginning of A Hard Day's Night.

Police were there to hold back the fans, but their barrier broke. I got separated from Paul, who I had mainly stuck with the whole time. But I felt someone grab my hand and pull me towards the train. It was Brian. 

"Can't leave you behind." He huffed, helping me on the train even though I was perfectly capable. 

The screams accompanied us as the train left for London.  

We found an empty compartment and sat down, the lads smiling and talking about the 'prettiest birds' they saw. Brian announced that he and some of the assistants would go for coffee in the dining car. George told him to bring something back for him. 

"Did you see the bird with the curly hair?"

"She was beautiful."

This conversation lasted a good twenty minutes, and I was horribly bored. I noticed that Ringo was tapping on his legs, mouthing beats while playing rhythms. 

"Practicing?" I asked, in a lower tone.

"I, um, well..." Ringo mumbled. 

"Are you normally this articulate?" I teased, which made him smile. 

"I guess I just miss my drums." He said. 

"Ringo, quit playing with yourself and come get some coffee with me." John said, getting up. Paul and George laughed. They too mocked him. I felt bad about that.