Shelter In Your Love (Beatles Fan Fiction)

109. I Don't Want To Do It

Well, I was, two minutes ago. I look up the deserted street again. It's possible I only imagined him there. I was thinking about him when I thought I saw him in town last week, and I was thinking about him now too. I'd just told Jimmy I had to leave and he was trying to convince me to stay again. He brought Adam with him to pull at my heartstrings as well.

No, I know it was George. He was bundled up in a huge coat and scarf and he didn't say anything, even when I said his name, but I know it was him. I feel a twinge and put my hand on the bump. He seems to be agreeing with me.

'Yes, I'm sure,' I tell Jimmy, levelly.

The man sheltering in the doorway finally sidles past Jimmy and escapes into the pub. Jimmy steps forward. 'Love, he's one of the most famous men in Britain. He couldn't sneak into a pub unseen. There would have been a riot!'

'Jimmy, it was him. He was next to me. I'd know him anywhere. I have to look for him--'

Jimmy sighs. 'Then at least put a coat on.'

'I haven't time to...'

'Let me get my jacket and your coat and someone to keep an eye on Adam, then I'll come with you and we'll search for him,' Jimmy says, gently. 'If it was him, he won't have got very far yet.'

I open my mouth to protest then nod, reluctantly.

'Wait here,' Jimmy tells me, sternly. 'I'll be half a minute.'

I smile wanly and nod some more and then as soon as he steps back inside I head off up the hill. Jimmy means well but George won't talk to me with him there. I can imagine what's going through his mind right now. I need to speak to him alone. That's if I can find him first.

I struggle up the street as fast as I can, holding onto the walls of the buildings to guide myself. I wish I did have my coat. The wet cotton fabric of my dress clings to my skin. I feel weak after standing on that stage for so long, but there's no pain anymore. That has to be a good sign, doesn't it? I can feel it, there, and it's definitely different to before, but it doesn't hurt.

Ahead of me I see the shape of a man emerge from a shadow doorway, walking away from me quickly, but I still recognise his slightly bouncing gait and his hunched over stance with his hands jammed deep in his pockets.

'George!' I shout, my voice lost in the drumming of the rain coming down. 'George, wait, please!' It's been raining on and off all day and now it's turned into a storm, making Seel Street into a shallow river as it streams down the hill. The gutters on the buildings overflow sporadically, spilling sheets of rainwater onto the pavement ahead of me.

The figure reaches the top of the street, beside what used to be the Cabaret Club. He crosses the road and disappears from my view.

I half-walk, half-jog after him, no mean feat considering the shape I'm in. I hug the wall with my right side, and wrap my left arm around my bump, trying to cushion the impact it's having on him. 'Hold on, please, hold on,' I whisper, unsure if I'm pleading with George or the baby. Both of them perhaps.

Regardless, when I reach the top of the street, I feel it.

I didn't even notice with Bobbie. I discovered it afterwards and thought it was blood, but surrounded by water everywhere, I definitely notice it this time.

I stumble to the top of the hill and have to stop, leaning on my side on the cold damp bricks of the old club. Berry Street runs across the top of Seel Street. It's normally a busy road, cutting through the middle of this side of the city, but it's also deserted tonight. The weather has kept a lot of people indoors, there isn't even a car or a truck passing, and no sign of George either. Not to the right, where the road would eventually lead down through the town, towards the docks, and not to the left, where the ruin of the Bombed Out Church stands; a black and sinister shape, unlit in the darkness.