I Learnt To Love In Liverpool | George Harrison ✅

♥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐒𝐢𝐱 ♥

"G-George Harrison..." Miss York was blushing a bright red. I did the maths; she was so young that it was likely she had been no more than fourteen or fifteen when The Beatles had first made it big. It was very obvious that she was a fan.

"A fan, luv?" George teased kindly.

She nodded, "M-Mr Harrison, i-it's an honour to m-meet you... and to have y-your daughter i-in my class..."

George looked very awkward. I knew that he would rather not be recognised everywhere he went, though I didn't need to be married to him to know it. It was very obvious.

"Just don't treat Nancy any differently," George said kindly, "she's every bit as good as those other kids."

Miss York nodded, "o-of course not, M-Mr Harrison, I -"

I looked at my watch, being very careful to support all of Jack's weight whilst doing so, "Georgie, we'd better go or the boys won't get in on time."

George nodded at me and then turned back to Nancy's teacher, "lovely to meet you, ta!" And then he walked off and he followed, turning to wave at the awestruck girl as she watched us go, her jaw still on the floor.

I giggled, "you did that on purpose."

My husband shrugged, "Sometimes it is funny seeing their reaction."

"I think she likes your music, dad." Julian said from beside me.

"Jules," I said before George could say anything in reply to him, "this is your class." I leant down and kissed his forehead, "I love you, have a good day. I'll be here at 3 to pick you up, okay?" Julian nodded.

"Bye, mum! Bye, dad! Bye, Dhan!" And then he walked into the classroom past his teacher. There was no line for this one. The teacher looked to be around fifty, with greying hair and half-moon spectacles on.

"You must be Mr Hart." I said politely, smiling at him. "I'm Mrs Harrison, Julian's mother."

He hummed in reply and turned to George, instead addressing him. "Has your son brought lunch with him?"

George shook his head, his long shaggy hair swishing at the movement. "He's having a school lunch today."

"Hm." Mr Hart eyed George's hair disapprovingly, looking down his nose at George, which made my blood boil.

George was one of four of the greatest musicians of our modern time - how dare he look at George like he was anything less than that just because of how long his hair was!

"Right," I said, turning away from Mr Hart and making a point of it, grabbing George's arm and pulling him away from the man, too, "you next, Dhan."

Dhani looked like he was about to cry. He looked around nervously and then directly at George. George and I exchanged glances and I gave a small, barely noticeable nod. But George saw it. He picked Dhani up and set him on his hip, turning his head so he could talk to him.

"You nervous, son?"

Dhani, of course, nodded.

"Don't be, Dhan," I said for the umpteenth time, "you're going to have lots of friends, and you already know how to read!" I pointed out, "you'll be miles ahead of everyone else and they'll all love you for it."

I was well aware that that was not how school worked, but my firstborn didn't need to know that.

"Hey," George said, trying to cheer Dhani up, who looked like he would combust any minute, "why don't you pick dinner tonight?"

He perked up a little at that.

"Anything?" Dhan asked. George nodded, "curry? Like the one you made on my birthday?"

That was Dhani's favourite. He was like George in every way - they even looked almost completely alike, which was odd given that he wasn't biologically a Harrison - but I never questioned it or thought about it for too long.

"Curry it is, then." George had turned vegetarian in 1965, and I had too, to support him, though I sometimes struggled with it - especially when I was pregnant.

We took Dhani to his classroom. His teacher was standing with a wide smile on her face, just like Nancy's Miss York had been, though Dhani's teacher looked about ten or fifteen years older.

"This is Dhani," I said, gesturing to my son, "spelt D-H-A-N-I." I was very particular about how Dhan's name was spelt. The teacher nodded and George took a deep breath, giving Dhani a peck on the cheek and then putting him down. I ruffled Dhani's hair. "Love you, Dhan." I said to him as the teacher gestured for him to go into the classroom. We were the only parents around as it was almost time for the school bell to ring.

I looked at George and he nodded, silently telling me to do what I felt that I had to. I spoke quietly to the teacher, "Dhani is... special -"

"Every parent thinks their child is special, Mrs...?"

"Harrison." I said, introducing myself, "but Dhani requires something more than the other children. Sometimes he needs to be alone -"

"We do not give special measures for children." The teacher said in a disdainful tone, "your son will either fit in or he will find school very difficult, and that will be the case for his whole life."

I hated Dhani's teacher, and for a split second, I contemplated whether I should leave him with her or not. Would he be okay without me there?

"Look," I said in a pointed tone, frustration very obvious within it, "Dhani is different to the other children. He needs you to be kind to him, and not to shout. He needs you to be patient and understanding. I trust you can be these things for him, and if you cannot, then -"

"Then we'll pull him out of school." George finished for me, taking a step closer to the teacher to be intimidating, something which he was very far from.

However, his movement seemed to do the trick.

The teacher nodded and swallowed, "I will do what I can... but I will not single him out and treat him above the rest of the children."

"Just be aware." I answered in a low tone, looking down at Jack, who was fidgeting very badly and very obviously quite hungry. I knew that I needed to feed him soon or he would start crying and not stop for hours.

"Come on, luv," George put his hand on the small of my back again and led me away from the nasty teacher.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" I asked George as we got back into the car.

George sighed, placing both of his hands on the steering wheel and thinking for a few seconds before he replied, "I don't know."

"I hope he is."

"So do I." My husband agreed. "I worry about him more than Nancy and Jules."

I nodded, "Do you think it was the right decision?"

George nodded, audibly swallowing. "I think it'll be good for him in the long run. I think that he will enjoy learning... but he might not enjoy the teacher."

I chuckled at George's joke, "if she even says anything unkind to him, then I'll -"

"We'll take it up with the school board."

George knew just as well as I did that the school board would do nothing about an unkind teacher, but he was trying to comfort me and I appreciated that.

We sat in silence for another minute before I said, "I need to feed Jack before he starts crying..."

George started the car and drove the three of us home. The car was silent, almost eerily so. I missed my three babies already.