Lonely People

McCartney Family Fallout

A good thing doesn't come without problems, problems, problems! There seemed to be more problems than solutions, and every solution came with three more problems. First, it was the visas, then it was gathering the money for airfare, and now, it was confronting the parents.

George, Paul, and I were the only ones who really needed to confront our parents. John and Stuart were both adults, they could do what they wanted. Paul was nearly there, he would turn eighteen in a few months. As for me and George, we had a long way to go. We were still kids no matter how much we denied it, and that was a road block bigger than any other we faced. 

I knew Dad's answer before we even asked. Paul did too, but we knew we had no choice. There was no way either of us would be willing to leave the house for several months without telling him a proper goodbye. We may have an odd relationship, but we still loved each other. It would break my heart to leave on bad terms with Dad. 

That's why the two of us stood on the stairs, our shoulders pressed together as we tried to find the courage to move forward. Michael had gone to bed, Paul made sure of it. The very first thing he said was that he didn't want Michael to witness the argument bound to come.

Dad sat in his favorite armchair, a cup of whiskey in hand. He hadn't had many, which was good, considering what we were about to tell him. His nose was buried in a newspaper.

Paul took a deep breath and surged forward. I followed him, my arms protectively wrapped around my middle. I felt like shrinking into myself, folding my body like origami until I was completely gone. Anything was better than facing the situation at hand. 

"Dad," Paul called his attention, "We have something to tell you."

Paul stopped at the foot of Dad's armchair. I stood just behind him, acting as a supporting force as well as backup. Paul seemed confident, but I could sense his anxiety. Of the two of us, he was the most equipped to face Dad seeing as how he was the oldest and the closest to adulthood. He stood tall while I shrunk behind him. 

"What's wrong?" Dad asked, folding his newspaper.

Paul placed his hands on his hips, "The band has signed a contract to play at a club in Hamburg for six months."

"Hamburg?" Dad asked, "Hamburg, Germany?"

Paul nodded. Dad was silent for a moment. He seemed to be soaking the news in. He glanced between Paul and me before tightening his grip around the newspaper, "You can't honestly expect me to let you go."

"Dad, it's a big step in our career," Paul began, "It's the band's only chance."

Dad rocketed up, "Paul, you're seventeen! Amelia is sixteen! You can't just go to Germany by yourselves!"

"I'll be eighteen in three months! We're not alone, John, Stuart, and George are all going," Paul argued.

"Regardless, it's dangerous," Dad argued, "Besides, the two of you are still in school."

I shook my head, "We graduate in a month. We'll be out of high school before it's time to go."

His gaze turned to me. His eyes were steely, but, deep inside, there was something else. He seemed to gaze into my very soul. To this day, I still don't know what he was thinking, it's one of the greatest mysteries of my lifetime.

"Amelia, you're a child," Dad told me, "You can't go to Germany! You need an education, a job, a life!"

"This is my life! The music, it's what I want-it's all both of us want," I told him.

Paul nodded in agreement, "This is our chance, Dad. This club-we could get spotted by a hot shot music producer. We'll get an audience larger than any we could get in Liverpool. It's our only chance."