Let It Be (A Beatles Story)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Waking up the next morning was a dizzying experience.  I didn't know where I was, even though it was where I had been staying overnight nearly every day that month.  Maybe it was just because I was unfamiliar with the room, and I wasn't used to sleeping in this bed.  

I assumed that, because I almost jumped out of my skin when I realized George was holding both of my hands.  

He must have felt me move, because he awoke and said, in a whispery, sleepy tone, "Something wrong, love?"

"No," I sat up, rubbing my eyes, "I think I'm just a bit...excitable, is all."

He sat up too, kissing my shoulder before stretching.  

"George?"

"Do you think you could help me with something today?"

"Sure.  What is it?"

"I'm going to do something extremely difficult, and I want you to be there when I need you."

"Always."

After making breakfast and cleaning up, I took my bag with my clothes out from the corner of the living room and set it between George and I.  Carefully I took out my sweatshirt, cellphone and my mother's heart locket.  He watched me intently, not saying a word.  

"Can you hide these?" I asked him.  "In a place I would never think of looking?" 

"Of course.  But why?"

I hated myself for what I did next.  

I burst into tears.  My body shook with heart-wrenching sobs.  George closed the space between us, holding me close.  "Don't cry, don't cry.  I'm sorry."

"I can't do this."

George was silent as he began to figure out what exactly I did intend to do.  But then he said, "Yes, you can." 

"I can't, George."

"Look at me." He said, lifting up my chin to meet his eyes.  "Imagine this as getting a chance to start over.  A new life.  You will not be Elle Sullivan, girl from the future. You can be Elle Sullivan, born in 1947, Liverpool-raised.  You'll be new.  That is, if you want to."  

Tell me I can do this again.  Give me the strength to forget.

The youngest Beatle kissed my nose.  "I want you to be free from this.  If not, let me help you carry the burden."  

Letting out a sigh, I said, "It's too much for you to bear."

George took my hands and kissed them.  His velvety lips were so soft against the skin.  He wiped away a tear from my cheek.  "I will take what you want me to.  I'll do what you ask.  I just want you to be able to sleep at night, without fear of your father.  Forget about the past and the pain.  If you live with me now, I promise you'll never hurt again."

I thought of the note I made.  Never to me.  Never trust a man.  Never fall in love.  "How?"

"Do you trust me?" 

I tried to meet his eyes.  

"Elle," he said, "do you trust me?"

I nodded.  

Letting go of my hands, he said, "Close your eyes."  I did as I was told, and heard George take the things I had set out in front of him, and leave.  It felt like an hour before he returned.  

How could I forget about Grandmother, and my sweet Kirby?  Mother?  The people who had tried so hard to protect me for years?  Home.  It was so far away.  But was it truly home anymore?  

Home was where the heart was.  At least that was what everyone said.  And my heart was here with the Beatles, but I longed for the ones I loved to be here with me.  

But, if I could think up my own new life, why couldn't I create a happy ending for them also?  

Grandmother moved in with Mom, and Mom finished the garden in the back and planted more grass for Kirby to play in.  He grew happy and old with the two of them, for my mom had kicked my dad out.  He never bothered them again.  He never hurt anyone again.  

They didn't think I was dead.  I was gone, but I was safe, and they knew that.  Grandmother and Mom knew that I was being taken care of, and they wouldn't see me for awhile, but I would be back.  I might not be able to see Grandmother and Kirby again, but Mom will still be there.  

Soon I began to cry again.  "George, I can't do this!  I'll never see them again!"

I heard him come back into the living room and felt him take my hands again.  "Elle, it's going to be alright."  I told him about their happy ending, but I couldn't do so without tears streaming down my cheeks.  

"I'll never see them again, George.  Not if I want to save..." I whimpered.  

"What is there to save?" George asked.  I almost started sobbing again.  Here, holding my hands, gazing into my tear-soaked eyes, was the reason I was back here.  I would sacrifice my life, my family, in order to save John and George.  It was why I was here, quite possibly even why I was born.  This was meant for me.  

But spending forty years in the past, even when the lads aren't together anymore, could I truly bear that burden?

Would my mother recognize me when I got back?  If I got back?

"That will be their happy ending.  Now you get to make your own." George tried to reassure me.  

There was a knock on George's door, but he didn't want to leave me to get it.  I told him to.  It was Ringo.  There was a slight whispering and then the two boys came back into the living room.  They kneeled down next to me, each of them taking one hand.  I leaned against both of them, and none of us said a word.  

I wasn't sure how long we sat there, but I had stopped crying.  

No more horrible memories.

No more sleepless nights.  

No more pain.

No more fear.

This is a second life.  

A new life.  

I was a new Elle Sullivan.  

Born in 1997, died in 1964.

Born again in Liverpool.  

When I opened my eyes again, I felt different.  Lighter.  

Free.