Wildfire ~ George Harrison

Epilogue

Life found a new normal after that. Gone were the bleak, quiet and uniform days that I had come to known before George moved across the hall from me. truthfully, those had been gone for a little while. Life had taken a full turn, jumped onto a rollercoaster and done a couple loop-the-loops. It was a far cry from how it had been seven months ago.

No longer did I spend every night in the presence of just Kathleen, who would consistently try and drag me away from the sofa and out into the night life of London. Back then I would join a little reluctantly, but also happy to let my hair down and dance away the bleakness that was my job.

Today I still went to that boring job and I still worked harder than I should for the small amount of money my boss was willing to pay me. At the end of the day, I was still drained from hours of typing up notes, but I wouldn't go back to a house with just my best friend there. No, I came home to George too. He filled my tiny flat with music and warmth and a spark of excitement and when Kath got sick of us, we moved to his flat, where we would bore the life out of Ringo.

The days were long for him too. He spent them on a filming set where they shot the Beatles' film, A Hard Day's Night. I had asked what that was, but the answer didn't make much sense clearer. 'I don't know,' he had said. 'Ringo came up with it and then John and Paul made a song out of it. It does have a nice ring to it.' It did, I had to admit that.

There were days where George wouldn't come home until well past supper time and there were days where we wouldn't see each other at all, because the work was too much. But I didn't complain, because I realised this was a slow period for him. Before long, the filming would be done and the band would be back on the road, this time to tour the United States as well. I would see even less of him. I knew that was unavoidable, thus I made sure to enjoy having him so close to him.

'Are you sure it'll be alright?' George asked as the taxi rounded the corner to the street my parents lived on. It was only a couple of streets away from George's flat, but we came from mine, so a taxi was the way to go. 'Are you sure they don't mind me coming along?'

I could hear the anxiety in his voice and I knew it was not going to be alright, but I wasn't about to tell him that. He would never come along if I told him the truth. We were on our way to my parents, who had organised another family dinner, this time in honour of Matthew's birthday.

Francesca, his girlfriend, was obviously invited and Matthew had told me I should bring George along too. He had told my parents that I was bringing my boyfriend along, but given that they didn't know yet that my courtship with Henry was no longer happening, it was going to be an interesting welcome.

We got out of the car after George paid and walked up the stairs to the front door. George let out a low whistle. 'Fuck me, Charlotte, I knew you came from money, but damn!' he said as he looked up at the house in front of him. It was similar, but smaller than the building his flat was in, but he only rented out the top floor, whereas the whole house was my parents.

'I told you, didn't I?' I said, suddenly quite embarrassed about my upbringing. It was true that I came from wealth, he knew this. There was no way two eighteen-year-old girls could afford living in a flat off of Oxford Street without coming from money. But he'd clearly not clocked the true meaning of it yet.

'Don't worry, Georgie,' I told him. 'It'll be alright. Matthew knows you're coming and he promised to help us.' Albeit a little reluctant, but again I was not telling him that detail.

The anxiety that was already apparent on his face, seemed to grow. 'Help? They're going to hate me, aren't they?' he pushed out and I couldn't help but laugh at his nerves. It wasn't nice to do, but he was making a scene about nothing.

'No, they're not. They don't know you, but think they do. My parents are just prejudiced. If there is someone that can change their views, it's you, I know you can,' I said and I hoped it would calm him down a bit, but if his shaking hand was anything to go by, it didn't do much.

'Look,' I went on. 'You are the most amazing person I know and I would love for my parents to see that too. But really, if they don't, that's okay too. I don't need them, as long as I've got you. They just want what is best for me and they will see that it's you that is the person for me. Father might take a little longer to adjust, but you'll see that before the night is over, Mother will have adopted you as her new son.' I was confident in that and I needed George to be, too.

I took a deep breath and then made a decision. It was probably much too early in our relationship to say anything at all, let alone call it love. We had, after all, only been dating for a month-and-a-half or so, but I was absolutely sure that I felt that way about him. I didn't see the point in hiding it away, in calling it anything else, I wanted to call it by its name. I needed George to know how sure I was about him. 'I love you, George.' 

A/b thank you for all your support guys! I hope you liked this story as much as I liked writing it. For now, lots of love and see you next time ❤️