Do You Want To Know a Secret?

23. Love Me Do

I woke up drearily, hoisting myself into a sitting position seeing my uncle at the desk with papers scattered across it. There was no vacationing for the man. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the window that was letting light pool into the room, making me wince. My head was pounding and I felt like death, I could barely remember what had happened the night before. I was actually glad I had passed out cold for the night, I heard from all the boys that the street noise and club music made it difficult to sleep here at all.

Slowly, like some sort of James Bond villain, my uncle turned around in the swivel chair, looking at me with utter distaste.

"Have fun last night, Poppy?" He smiled mirthlessly at me.

"Yeah, why?" I pursed my lips knowing well that I was really in for it. He left me alone for only a short amount of time and I'd managed to get myself hammered. That was really the way to assure him he'd made the right decision to let me come, a sarcastic voice spat in the back of my head.

"I'll tell you why-" My uncle whisper yelled, leaning in closer to me. I put a hand out to stop him from speaking further to address what I'd done.

"If this is about me drinking, I promise you I'll never, ever do it again. It was stupid, and I take full responsibility," I started to accept the trouble coming my way.

"-I wasn't talking about that. However I'm upset about that too." He leaned back in his chair disappointedly.

My jaw dropped baffled. There was something else? Of course there was. How did I expect to get pissed and think nothing else would've happened while I was in that state. I had probably said something rude to someone. Oh, I hope it wasn't George.

"So, you don't remember saying a certain three words to the lead guitarist of the Beatles?" He asked with an eyebrow cocked. My stomach immediately dropped and I felt like my whole world came crashing down. Had I really said, I love you, to George? And in front of my uncle Brian? No, it had to have been another three words.

"What- I -I," I began to stutter trying so hard to remember last night.

"Haven't been telling me everything? Yeah, because I don't think "just friends" say I love you to each other Poppy." My uncle Brian spoke rising to his feet. I was about to speak when he spoke again.

"I'm going downstairs to get some breakfast." He spoke quietly with a sigh as he turned and walked out of the room. I stood up speechlessly, I couldn't be angry or even sad, I had put this on myself.

Hanging my head, I grabbed one of my bags to get an outfit to wear and take my asthma medicine.

I was trying to run through millions of apologies in my head, desperately trying to find the right words to say to my uncle. I seemed to keep throwing things at my uncle and making his life more difficult every day. I felt a deep agony fully knowing he didn't even have to take care of me. I could've stayed with my grandparents, or been put in an orphanage, but Brian took me in, and I felt terrible for turning his plans up on their head like I had been doing.

A knock came at the door and I quickly wiped away a stray tear that had fallen from my eye despite my brain that was telling me not to cry. I fixed my silk pink button up pyjama shirt and pants and started to walk over to the door.

I approached the door with slight fear, all the possibilities of who it could be in Hamburg nearly made my heart jump into my throat. I carefully looked into the peephole, seeing George.