27 October 1962.
PAUL: George is late for rehearsal, which is rather surprising, seeing as he is usually the first one here (with John being the last to drag in, usually complaining about being too tired to perform). We’ve been waiting on him for nearly an hour, and still no sign of him.
“Want me to call Allie and have her call him or something?” I asked. “See if he’s home?”
“He’ll be along. If he’s been injured in an automobile accident or some other event that inflicts pain and body casts, we’ll be hearing about it,” John said, grinding out his cigarette in the ashtray at his right hand.
I nodded. I had been looking for an excuse to call Allie anyway, but so much for that. She can’t come stay with me tonight, as Megan and Pete are in Spain for the weekend on holiday and her mother somehow found out about it (so the usual excuse won’t work). I don’t even know if she is coming to the club tonight or not. She didn’t know if she would be allowed to do so. I hope she can so I can see her for a bit tonight.
The door to the club flew open and in rushed George, a wild and exhilarated look gleaming in his brown eyes. “There you are, where the hell have you been?” John asked. “We’ve been waiting!”
“Sorry!” George exclaimed. He took a deep breath. “Guess what just happened?”
“I don’t know, what?” I asked.
A huge grin spread across George’s face. “I met a girl this afternoon, and she is really something, let me tell you! I invited her to come hear us play tonight.”
John and Ringo each let out a loud holler in unison and jumped off the stage, grabbing George and lifting him over their heads. “Way to go Geo!” Ringo exclaimed.
“I second that!” John chimed in.
“Congrats!” I said, preferring to remain perched on my stool on the stage. “Tell us about her! Name, physical description, all that.”
“Okay. Her name is Delilah Marks. She’s got really long brown hair, about the length of Allie’s, I’d say, only with some gold undertones to it. So it’s sort of a shiny gold-brown color. Big brown eyes. Tall too. Sorry to keep using your girlfriend as a reference, Paul, but taller than Allie.” Allie was a petite five-three, so I couldn’t imagine how tall this Delilah must. “Kinda funny how I met her too.”
“Well don’t keep us hanging! TELL!” John shouted. “NOW!”
“Okay, so they’re having this convention-type thing at the University of Liverpool for athletes who are aiming for the winter Olympics in a few years and are old enough to participate in the games to come and get professional training and practice and such. I was bored so I decided to go down and watch the speed skaters today, and I met her there. Her brother, Lance, is a skater, so she came over with him.”
“Came over? Where is she from?” Ringo asked.
“America!” George exclaimed. “New York City.”
“Oh, wow. Everyone will really flip now,” John mused. “Paul’s got an American and now it looks like you do too, George.”
“I didn’t say we were going to date!” George said, hitting John on the arm. “She’ll only be here a couple weeks, she said. But wow, I’m… I can’t explain it.”
“I think we all know how you feel,” I said. “It’s an amazing feeling, I know.”
ALLIE: My father said I can go down to the Cavern tonight (oh how my mother shall flip) and he’ll be driving me down in about an hour. Thank God. I think I would have been annoyed if I couldn’t go and see Paul, especially since I can’t stay overnight with him. Apparently they are all getting tired of performing at the club though, judging from what I overheard John say last week. I suspect if they do get a record out and a rise in popularity, the club days will be over. Bittersweet, seeing as I met Paul at the Cavern, but sometimes, moving on is necessary.
YOU ARE READING
No More Lonely Nights - A Fan FictionFanfiction
1962. Liverpool, England. Rock and roll music is on the horizon, and in an intimate blues club in the heart of Merseyside, a foursome by the name of the Beatles is about to emerge as the greatest music phenomenon the world has ever seen. American te...