Shelter In Your Love (Beatles Fan Fiction)

50. It's All Too Much

'I'm sorry, darlin',' he says, taking a step towards the exit. 'Good thing you came back when you did, though.'

Without looking back, Bobby follows the others through the gate into the back alley.

* * *

'Is he here?'

Minnie stands on the doorstep with a grin on her face that can only be described as impish. She looks rather dishevelled, tired and pale, but happy. She's wearing a short, lime green mini dress and unseasonal white sandals. Her hair is mussed, makeup a little smudged, but it's how thin she's looking that really makes me look at her twice.

'No, he's not here. Coast is clear.'

'Good, excellent,' Minnie trills. Her good mood is contagious, I can't help but smile as I open the door wider for her to come inside. She picks up the newly delivered milk bottles from the step outside and presses them into my hands. 'I can't be doing with that wanker, Ricky. Not right now, anyway. I haven't been home yet.'

Officially, Minnie is still barred from our house. Unofficially, she comes round when Ricky's not in.

'I am knackered,' Minnie continues. 'But I was in your neck of the woods and I thought, where better to go for a early morning cuppa than our kid's?'

'It's not that early,' I tell her as I follow her through to the kitchen, setting the milk down on the side.

'Isn't it?' Minnie says mildly, pulling out a chair at the table.

'It's gone ten.'

'Well, doesn't time fly,' she says, flippantly, sitting down. 'It does, doesn't it? When you're having a good time, time just goes past like water down a drain. Sand slipping through your fingers. Only feels like two minutes since you came to London and poof! It's already been nearly two years.'

'It's been eighteen months since we started at the club. We've lived here for... yeah, two years, I suppose it must be...'

She's grinning at me, rather manically. 'Well, who's counting? Eh? Especially when you're having a good time. So much fun to be had, isn't there?'

'Are you alright?'

'Never better.'

'Where have you been?'

'Last night? This little club on the South Bank. It was tiny. Very good music.'

'On the South Bank?'

'Yeah.'

'Of the Thames?'

'Know any other South Banks?'

'So nearer to where you live than where I live?'

Minnie just smiles.

'I didn't mean last night, anyway. I meant in general. I must have called you thirty times. Your phone just rings out. Is it on the blink?' I say this lightly, but I have been worried.

After they'd all gone that Saturday, three weeks ago, I would have left this hateful house and gone to stay with Minnie, but I couldn't get her on the phone. I went round and the flat was empty, locked up. With no way of contacting her, I had to accept that no news was good news, and I've stayed here. It's been quiet since that day, but I still feel on edge all the time.

'I haven't been home much recently. I've been with Brian. Well, mostly Brian,' Minnie replies.

'Brian Jones?'

'Yes, Brian Jones. Who do you think? Brian Wilson?' Her eyes dance when she says his name in a way that is decidedly un-Minnie like.

'Do you want a cup of tea?' I take the kettle to the sink and start to fill it without waiting for her reply.