In Your Atmosphere (Paul McCartney/Beatles Fanfiction)

Chapter 14 - I'll Be Coming Home Again to You Love

The phone bleated, startling her, and she hurried to the kitchen to answer it.

"Oh my god you're still in London, turn on the radio, they're rioting at the airport!" Angela barely paused for breath. "Are you listening to the BBC?"

"What? I know you are saying words but I have no idea what they mean."

"The Beatles! Their plane just landed and it's being reported live!"

Marisol hung up and sprinted to the living room radio.

A newsman was shouting to be heard over what sounded like a soccer stadium full of girls screaming. "Much confusion here at London Airport. Thousands of young Beatle fans shouting, yelling, waving umbrellas and hats, shouting for their heroes, the four young men in dark clothes who've just disembarked from the huge blue and white airliner which has flown them from Stockholm."

Marisol moved closer to the radio, adjusting the volume. She could barely hear the reporter over the howling fans.

"...mounting excitement, the flashbulbs are going, forty or fifty photographers, a lot of airline officials, and now there's quite a crush at the bottom of the steps at the rear of the plane, scores of people down there with the flashbulbs going as the Beatles try to force their way through massive security precautions here to bring them to the main building. The fans are going wild here on the balcony. And they're having a wonderful time despite the pouring rain..."

The phone rang again and Marisol yelled, "Margo, can you get that? I can't miss this!"

Margo appeared in the hallway, frowning. "What in Sam Hill is all that racket?"

"Paul just landed and they're about to get mobbed, this is insane!" Her heart was racing. This was like nothing she'd ever imagined.

"Now the Beatles are making their way towards the main terminal, they're waving and smiling at the crowds, they're wearing short black overcoats, the Beatle haircuts stand out for all to see amidst the milling throng down there."

Marisol's hand shook as she turned off the radio when the Beatles were safely inside the terminal. With the fervor of the reporter's voice and the amped-up crowd behind him, she had been afraid for Paul's safety.

Margo was still on the phone in the kitchen, saying testily, "Calm down, Mother. I didn't say we were never coming back to the States. I said we had options. Am I supposed to wait until you die to live my own life?"

Marisol sighed. She'd heard this conversation a thousand times. She knew everyone's lines. Their mother would call Margo ungrateful. Margo would deny it. Mother would say the children would suffer by not being with their grandparents. Offended, Margo would say she knew what was best for her children. Finally, just when you think Margo is about to win the argument for independence, their mother would pull the Dad card.

"It's killing your father."

Now Margo was telling their mother that she had a histrionic personality disorder. She began spelling it for her, H-I-S...

Marisol threw her hands into the air. "Margo!" she hissed. "How much longer are you going to be? Paul just landed, I think he'll call!"

Margo examined her nails. "I have to ring off now, Mother. The Elvis Presley wannabe who is romancing your youngest daughter just flew in from Sweden and we must free the line."

"You did not just do that."

Margo held out the phone. "Mother wants to talk to you."

"Seriously, what is your problem?" Marisol sputtered, covering the receiver with both hands.