Let It Be (A Beatles Story)

Chapter Twenty-One

I immediately had the sensation of falling, and then everything was dark.  It was just me, standing alone in empty black space.  No Paul.  No Liverpool.  No Beatles.  

At first, I began to cry.  What if I was returning home, and I never got a chance to say goodbye?  I never got to tell Paul how I felt.  

I didn't save John or George.  That was what I was supposed to do.  

But then, there was color, and with that, light.  Lots of it.  The world seemed to spiral, and then correct itself.  I was standing in a doorway with Paul, a glass of wine in my hand.  I was wearing a beautiful green dress, one that I don't remember buying.  Lights were hung all around, and his apartment was full of people.

I then realized we were standing under mistletoe.  

But it was April, almost May...

"Happy Christmas, Elle." Paul leaned in to kiss me, but I stopped him.  

"Paul, what is going on?  A moment ago it was April..." I began, before I realized how crazy that sounded.  

He tried to play it off as nostalgia, for there were people near us.  "I see.  It does feel like only yesterday it was springtime."  Paul kissed me quickly and thoughtlessly, for show, and then pulled me away from the crowd.  

"What happened?" He asked.  

"I'm not sure.  One moment ago it was April, and we had a falling out and I just left your room.  But I fell into darkness, and I don't remember anything before this." I tried to explain.  Paul looked hopelessly confused.  

"But...you've been with us for most a year now.  We've traveled around, and you've gotten postcards..." Poor Paul was dreadfully confused.  I could practically see the gears turning in his mind.  

I was just as.  But then, I thought of it.  

"Paul?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think that's possible," I breathed, "that I could have jumped through time again?"

Paul looked me up and down, and slowly nodded.  

Paul went off to talk to some other people, and I sat with George for awhile.  He looked nice, dressed up in a suit.  I thought of when he almost kissed me, and with my loss of memory, wondered if we actually did in the time I had forgotten.  What if I had kissed the other boys, and I hadn't known it?

What had I done with the lads?

Where did we go?

"You look lovely, Elle." He said, taking in my appearance.  

"Thank you.  You look really nice too."  I leaned in closer to him, for it was hard to hear in the apartment.  "Where are John and Ringo?"

"John's probably off chatting up some poor girl.  Ringo..." He pondered, but then nodded to the other side of the room.  "He's right over there."

Ringo was simply standing alone, looking hopelessly bored.  I felt bad.  

"Do you mind?" I asked, nodding towards the blue-eyed boy.  George just shrugged.  

Walking across the room, I could feel a few guests glance my way.  Paul had once told me that Englanders could tell by the way I walked that I was American.  Or it could have been the way I was dressed.  Most of the women here were wearing conservated, sleeved dresses.  Meanwhile, I was wearing the green sleeveless dress that I didn't remember getting.  

But then I did.  

When we were traveling, I found it in a store in London.  I tired it on for Paul, and he said I looked beautiful.  

What else had I forgotten?

"Elle, you look lovely." Ringo said.  I took his hands and led him to an empty space in the room near the turntable.  It was playing a slow Christmas song, one that I didn't recognize, though it was wonderful.  

"Dance with me." I told him.  And we did.  

A few people turned to look at us, but then others joined in.  We laughed and danced, and soon George joined us and we danced together.  

I don't remember seeing Paul again until after the party.  And when I did, he seemed sad.  

I was picking up some of the empty cups and plates that night when Paul sighed and sat down on the couch.  

"Something wrong?" I asked.  

"I feel like I'm missing something, Elle," he said.  

A ghost of a smile crept onto my lips.  "I have a feeling I know."

Sitting down next to him, I kissed him gently, unlike what he did under the mistletoe.   He held my cheek for a moment, but then drew away abruptly, breathless.  "You haven't kissed me like that in ages." He pointed out.  

"What..." I began, but then I remembered it.   How could I forget about that?

Paul had a girlfriend.  

George's POV

Damn that boy.  

How could he let a girl like Elle go?