Shelter In Your Love (Beatles Fan Fiction)

44. Cosmic Empire

'Very good, darlin',' Bobby says to me. 'You would never think to look at you what a good singer you are. You're so small. Where does that voice come from?'

I smile at him, but I daren't comment. I can feel Ricky's glare.

'The song before too. The West Side Story one.' He eyes Ricky. 'I thought you were very good.'

Ricky turns away, swearing in Italian under his breath.

'He don't think so?' Bobby asks innocently, but he plainly already knows. He must have been watching the whole thing.

'We've still got some kinks to work out,' I reply, quietly.

'Nonsense. Word perfect, that was.'

'I didn't realise you were an expert, Bobby. How long have you been working in the music industry?' Ricky asks, facetiously.

Bobby's smile doesn't falter. 'I'm by no means an expert, but I know what I like, and I liked that. Very much.'

'Was there something you wanted?' Ricky asks, exhaling, tiring of talking to him already.

'Reg asked me to drive you both back.'

'We're not finished yet.'

'The upholsterers want to come in. They've the, uh, what do they call it? Banquette seating to do.' He pronounces it bank-ettie.

'Now?' Ricky asks suspiciously, eyebrow raised. He checks his watch. 'It's nearly six.'

'Yes, well, they wouldn't normally work out of hours, but they were under strict instructions not to disturb you while you were rehearsing.'

'We're still rehearsing.'

'They need to start it now, otherwise it won't be ready in time. I suppose I could tell Reg that they couldn't get the seats finished because you were too-'

'No, no. It's fine,' he says, flatly. 'You'll have to wait for me then. I have to take a shower first. The house only has a bath.'

'If you're ready to go now, Hannah, I'm sure Joey can drive you back later, Ricky? Or take you anywhere you want to go?'

Ricky casts his eyes over to where the teenager waits, looking awkward at the side of the stage.

'Yeah, okay,' Ricky agrees, reluctantly. He turns to me. 'Tomorrow, Hannah, we'll have to be here first thing. Before the band, and we're not leaving until you're sounding at least halfway decent.'

I nod and smile as warmly as I can manage, but Ricky is already striding across the stage. Joe neatly jumps out of his path. 'Come with me,' Ricky orders as he passes him and Joe obediently trots after him.

Bobby shakes his head once he's left. 'They would have waited longer,' he tells me. 'I just couldn't abide anymore of his bullying. I know he's your old man, but enough is enough.'

'He wants it to be perfect,' I reply.

'You already sound perfect to me,' Bobby says simply. 'Come on, treacle, I'll buy you a fish supper,' he adds and walks away.

*

If I look carefully, I can see the Thames from the living room window. Just a glimpse of it, between the old warehouses and the chimneys of the Battersea power station that dominates the skyline.

It's not bad here. It's small; just one bedroom, the lounge-cum-kitchen I'm standing in currently, and a bathroom. It's the upstairs flat in a Victorian house divided into two separate residencies. It was advertised as furnished, and there's only a sofa, a chair and a bed, but it's warm and modern, and safe.