Shelter In Your Love (Beatles Fan Fiction)

85. This Guitar

A/N - Sad and potentially sensitive/upsetting subjects ahead. x

This here guitar can feel quite sad
Can be high strung, sometimes get mad
It can't understand or deal with hate
Responds much better to love

Bob is not keen.

He leans against the window ledge, resting the acoustic guitar he's been given against his leg, with his head bowed, while John fusses around him and George says nothing. These tall windows overlook the gardens at the back of Tittenhurst Park. The grounds stretch on, rolls of green fields and dense oak trees at the far end, marking the boundary of the property. I only know this from memory though. It's dark outside already. Past ten o'clock. We should all be going home.

'Uh, I don't know, man,' Bob says, as he casts his eyes to the floor. 'I'm not really into it, y'know?'

'Yeah, yeah, okay,' John replies, not listening as he fiddles with the dials and buttons on his tape reel to reel recorder, positioned atop the piano in the centre of the room.

Bob chews his cheek and casts a pleading glance to Sara. I sit in between her and Yoko on a pile of large blue and white cushions, the only thing to sit on in this lounge-cum-recording studio. We're squashed together uncomfortably. There really isn't enough room for three.

I can empathise. There's nothing worse than people encouraging you to "join in", when it's the one thing you most want to avoid. They don't notice Bob's lack of enthusiasm. Especially John. He railroads over all of Bob's subtle protests, not listening, getting the guitars out and setting up the recording equipment. George isn't much better. He's just quieter about it. He sits opposite us, cross-legged on the floor, tuning the guitar he holds on his lap.

'Oh,' Sara says, suddenly catching onto Bob's meaning. 'Oh, um, gee, I'm pretty tired, Bob. Would you mind if we got going soon? We still need to check into the hotel.'

'Yeah, sure. I think we'd better go.' Bob rests the guitar against the wall as Sara holds her hand for him to help her up. He takes her hand and Sara gets up with a struggle. Yoko stands and smiles and goes to open the door for them. I think she might like us to leave now as well.

Bob looks round at John, who has finally stopped setting up his equipment.

John straightens his back. 'Oh. I thought we were just going to play a bit. Have a jam?'

'We've been up late the last few nights,' Bob says, apologetically. 'Sara's pregnant. It's not good for her.'

That's true. Last night was the latest one yet. Following Bob's Isle of Wight show, a ton of people came back to the farm with us. The party lasted into the early hours of the morning. I looked for Cat and Bet again but I couldn't see them anywhere. I was a little sad about that. I hope it doesn't mean we'll lose touch again, although after what happened with George, maybe it was for the best that we didn't see them last night.

John brought the acetate copy of the new Beatles album and it was played several times over. It sounds good. Everyone was impressed. Again, it's completely different to any of their other records. I think it's one thing people like about the Beatles. It's always hard to anticipate what they will do next.

This morning, or rather, this afternoon, Bob and Sara and George and I came back with John and Yoko to Tittenhurst Park - by helicopter. Apple's own private helicopter. I've never been in one before. It's the first time I've really felt like John and George are rock stars. I mean, I know they are, but I always think of them as those scruffy teds from Liverpool. I can't think of them as the super famous stars they are today. We took off from near to the farm and landed right in the grounds of Tittenhurst Park. It was so quick too. It would have taken ages to get the ferry and then drive here.