I Want to Tell You (A Beatles Fanfic)

Chapter 42-The Night Before 🕒Saturday, November 23rd, 1963🕞

As I made my way down the stairs and through the hotel lobby, I realized not even the man at the front desk was up yet. Leaving my key on the edge, I scurried out the door just as the sun was making its appearance in the lower portion of the sky.

I glanced at the empty streets of London and presumed it was just past five. It was the most calm and serene I had seen the city, as I had gotten used to the hustle and bustle by day and wildness by night.

A couple drunk men staggered by, headed God knows where, most likely to kip. A bedraggled prostitute leaned against a brick wall smoking a cigarette, her eyes dead and drained of color. I watched a salesman peddling his cart out in exhaustion at another day and observed the milkman as he set out on his mission, his body pumping adrenaline through his preoccupied and overly working body.

"No milk today." I muttered and kept walking, trying to avoid any unwanted contact with them.

When I had made my way down the street and was approaching the heart of the city, I paused to get my barrings. If George had been near the river, I hoped he was there still. At least I was relatively familiar with the Thames and I knew that it would be hard tracking him down anywhere else in a city this huge.

Sighing in anticipation, I crossed the intersection and kept walking, beginning to see more people out and about. Things began to look more familiar the further I went. I hadn't realized just how far I had actually walked last night since everything looked different in the daytime.

I felt my body relax greatly as I spotted the place where the party had been up ahead and just ahead that, saw the Thames. Picking up my pace, I began to stride very quickly towards it, sucking in my breath as I hoped to God I could find George.

After walking a little ways further, I sighed in defeat and slumped down on a park bench.

"Oh, George." I sighed heavily sinking against the cold concrete. The leaves rustled in the trees through the cold November air. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours. I was about to give up when I heard a voice behind me say, "Yer know, yer likely to catch cold in a dress like that on a day like today."

I whirled around quickly, my heart in my throat. And there he was, standing awkwardly by the park bench, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his peacoat. Alive and real as day. Thank God.

"Oh George!" I cried, leaping to my feet and into his arms. I felt his body stiffen instantaneously as if he were uncomfortable by my presence and I loosened my grip, frowning as I realized he wasn't hugging me back. I stepped back to survey him in curiosity.

The man standing in front of me was painful sight to behold. Dark circles lined his eyes as if he hadn't slept all night. A grimace lined the corners of his lips. And boy did he reek of alcohol.

"George?" I said, biting my lip. He looked down in shame, his eyes wandering shyly from mine.
"Wendy..." he said slowly. "Wendy, I don't even know where to start..."

"George, I'm so glad you're alright!" I rambled, still just so relieved to see him I didn't have time for the details of last night to sink in yet.

"Wendy, why'd yer come back?"

"Why did I...what?" I asked, not quite hearing him correctly. He kicked at a leaf on the ground, his face draining of color.

"Why did yer do that after what an arse I've been? Yer don't deserve me, Wendy. Yer better off in the future."

"George, don't talk like that!" I said. "I like it here, you know that!"

"I just..." he winced as if unsure of going on. "I thought you'd have left me by now for sure."