The Sound of Silence | Paul McCartney ✅

29

7th December 1963

Paul opened the newspaper which John had brought into the hotel room for him. He flicked through it, looking for an article which caught his attention. He understood what Adaline had said now when she said that her world was silent after her fiance had died... his world was silent without her, and no amount of screaming fans or music could bring the sounds back for him.

Adaline Quinn pregnant!?

He stopped and looked at the article.

It was short, and there was also a picture. "John!?" Paul called out. "John!"

John came running to the room to see why his friend was calling for him. "What is it?"

"Look!" In disbelief, excitement and nervousness, Paul pointed to the article and began to read, not bothering to wait for John's attention to be on the black ink and white paper.

"Adaline Quinn was spotted in London this week. She hasn't been seen in public in almost eight months. Quinn confirmed her pregnancy when asked about it by a journalist, stating 'yes, I am pregnant. My baby is due in about two months. No I will not be exposing them to the scrutinizing eye of the British media, and I ask for privacy and respect for both myself and my child, now and in the future'. When asked who the father of her unborn child was, Miss Quinn said 'it is nobody's business who the father is'."

"Holy shit." John said as he finally worked it all out.

"Yeah..." Paul agreed quietly in disbelief.

"Yer gonna be a dad, Macca!" John clapped Paul on the back, though Paul felt anything but happiness.

He felt guilty. He felt as though he hadn't tried hard enough to find Adaline, and now he knew that she had had to deal with a pregnancy all by herself... but he had made up his mind. He was going to find her.

John continued to read. "When asked if the child was that of Paul McCartney, bassist of the band The Beatles, Miss Quinn ignored the question and instead carried on walking."

There was a picture of her attached to the article. She was mid-stride, a knee-length black billowing black dress with a white colour covering her curves and baby-belly, and she was wearing a buttoned up black trench coat with a pair of black pumps. Her hair was longer, her face sallower and her eyes seemed to be full of worry and strain. Paul's heart ached at the thought of everything that she had gone through in the past seven months that he had not been by her side for.

He stood up and left the room. "I have to find her." Was the only thing that he said in reply to John's unspoken question, where're you going, Macca?

"Wha's wrong, Paul?" Maureen asked when she saw the Beatle storming down the hallways of the Odeon in Liverpool, looking as though he was on a mission.

"I've got ter find her, Mo." He answered. Maureen was silent. Paul looked at her suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at Ringo's girlfriend as he put two-and-two together in his head and realised what had been in front of him the whole time. "Yer knew."

"Knew what?" Maureen asked cooly, trying to act as though she was completely oblivious as to what he was asking her.

Paul held the newspaper up to her, the photo of Adaline directly in her eye line.

Maureen glanced at it and sighed. "Yes."

"And yer watched me suffer all this time?" He couldn't believe that somebody who he would consider as a friend could watch him go through the pain of losing his other half and say nothing. "How could yer?"

"She asked me too, Paul." Maureen answered. "Addy asked me not to tell you and to keep the baby a secret from everybody else."

Paul took a deep breath, trying to hide his anger at Maureen. "Do yer know where she is?" Maureen was silent, trying not to look him in the eyes. She knew she had a tell, and that Paul was good at picking up on things like that. "Mo...?" Paul sighed. "I just want to reach out to her... ask her why she left without even telling me - I want to be there for her and the baby. Please tell me... do you know where she is?"

"No," Maureen answered, "but I have a phone number - her new one."

"Have you spoken to her?"

"She rings from time-to-time." Maureen said. "Mostly to ask how you are."

"Yerve been spyin' on me?" He couldn't believe all that Maureen had been keeping from him.

"No, I -"

"Give me the number, Mo." He made his voice low and manipulative. "You owe me that, at least... yerve been spyin' on me and lyin' ter everybody else fer seven months -"

"Fine!" She threw up her arms in surrender and dug around in her handbag for the piece of paper, handing it to Paul. "Please don't tell her that I gave it to you - she'd kill me!"

Paul assured her that he would not tell Adaline and then left to find Brian Epstein.

He found the manager very quickly. "Is your friend still a private investigator?" He asked by way of greeting.

Eppy looked at him suspiciously. "Depends."

"On what?"

"Why you want to know."

"Because I do." Paul answered. "Give me his number - I'm fifteen percent of the reason why yer not living in some mouldy flat in Liddypool, Eppy. Give me this, at least."

Brian sighed and scribbled down a few digits on a piece of paper which he found on a stool behind them. "He's busiest at night, so I'd call soon."

Paul went to go and find a public telephone, quickly locating it in the street outside of the Odeon and praying that the fans left him alone for long enough so he could make the phone call to the private investigator.

"'ello?"

"This is Paul McCartney. Brian Epstein's my manager - he gave me this number. Are yer a private investigator?"

"I am." The investigator replied. "What can I do to help yer, Mr McCartney?"

"If I give yer a phone number, can yer find the address where it is registered?" I asked.

"With little difficulty, yes." He paused. "Yer have a number, I assume?"

Paul read it out to him. "Get me the address and I'll pay yer well." Paul hung up and went back into the Odeon.