In Your Atmosphere (Paul McCartney/Beatles Fanfiction)

Chapter 15 - It Won't Be Long

"So, what brings you to Bournemouth?" Mark asked, with the curiosity of a Life Magazine journalist.

"Oh...just visiting. I have a friend staying at the hotel but they probably won't let me in without a room key." Marisol waved a hand towards the line of police who were turning away another group of fans. "I suppose I'll have to go back into town and call from there."

"Yeah, these long-haired kids are causing a big commotion around these parts, aren't they?"

"Are you here to photograph them?"

"We are," Mark said, smiling down at her. "Are you here to try and meet them?"

Marisol shrugged a shoulder. "I'm here to see a friend, but you never know."

Mark and the other photographer exchanged a look. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt if we help you get past the cops." He handed her a camera case. "You've just been promoted to photographer's assistant."

Before he could reconsider, Marisol opened the trunk again and retrieved her overnight bag.

Mark eyed her speculatively. "You're rather optimistic, aren't you?"

"A girl can always dream," she said with a smile.

The Branksome Tower Hotel was a Victorian-era stone mansion with extensive grounds surrounded by a pine forest. Huge windows in the lobby featured a sweeping view of the Bournemouth Coast and the Isle of Wight.

There was no answer when she rang Neil's room, so Marisol left a message for him at the front desk and settled into a comfortable chair by the windows looking out over the hotel gardens. A tuxedoed pianist played Debussy on an elevated grand piano in the center of the lobby.

She wished Angela could be here with her. But Neil had told Angela not to come to any more shows because he was working nonstop and wouldn't be able to spend time with her.

"Well, blast," Marisol said when she heard this. "Isn't he being sort of an ass?"

"He has more than he can rightfully handle," Angela said, quick to defend Neil. "It seems your boy toy and his mates are driving him bloody crackers in four-part harmony."

Angela went on to explain that since the boys could no longer leave their rooms, Neil and Mal and to some extent Brian pandered to them like sick children, bringing them food, records, filmstrips, even toys, anything to keep them occupied at the hotels where they were trapped until it was time for them to perform again.

The next morning after returning from Sweden the Beatles had begun their most grueling UK tour yet. Six weeks of one night stands through Britain and Ireland. By the time they finished this tour, Marisol would be back in California.

Paul remained mostly upbeat, but he told Marisol that John was getting short-tempered. John and Paul were having to write songs for their next LP in the middle of the night when all they wanted to do was sleep. They slept on the road and in their dressing rooms since they were trapped there each day from about four in the afternoon until the shows finished. Getting them in and out of the theatres was now a logistical nightmare for Neil and the local police.

On the days they had evening shows near London, they spent the afternoons recording television or radio shows or their next LP. Then they would be smuggled into getaway cars and driven home to catch a few hours of sleep so they could be on the road the next morning. Paul was often too tired to go out. The few times Marisol saw him, they would talk for a bit, make love and fall asleep. Their time together in England was slipping away.

Almost an hour later Neil showed up in the lobby, hollow-cheeked and gaunt, looking like he hadn't slept in days and like he'd lost ten pounds since she last saw him.