And Your Girl Can Sing

Chapter 61: Back In Dear Old Liddypool, Again

    "How could you have?" she asked in surprise. "The book only came out this year."

    "Ahh..." I struggled for an answer. She was looking at me with curiosity. I came up with a sorry excuse. "I suppose I must have mistaken that book for something else."

    We neared the cash register. "By the way, what book did you borrow from John?" I asked lightly while the cashier rang up her purchase.

    "Nothing large," she told me. "Just Alice in Wonderland. I wanted to refresh my childhood memories."

    I pondered this as we exited the shop into the summer heat on our way to the cafe. Alice in Wonderland was one of John's favorite childhood books, as well as Just William. We read both sometimes in his room, making up silly voices for the characters. He often had me play Mrs. Brown or one of the posher characters, poking fun at my Chiswick background.

    At the cafe after some salmon on a brioche bun I felt better. Kathleen had ordered a soup, some sort of pumpkin. "How can you have soup again?" I asked, her, laughing at a memory of my first day at work and our lunch hour, where she had opened her cup of soup. She unfolded her napkin and put it on her lap. "It keeps me warm. I'm always cold, even on a day like this." She gestured to the shining sun and the singing birds as she sipped daintily at her soup, her package from the bookstore in a paper bag hooked round the structure of her chair.

    "I wonder where Martin is," she frowned. "I do hope he's all right. The lad is awfully late."

    "George was ill this morning," I remembered. "Had a bit of a cold. I wonder if it's going round."

     "Hope he gets better by tomorrow," she said. "I want to see everyone at the party. I do want to hear the Beatles. I'll get to see George on lead, you on bass, Paul on guitar... and what was that drummer's name again?"

    "Pete," I supplied, smiling.

    "Pete. And of course John on rhythm." 

    I took a bite of my food.

    "Cora, you aren't cross with me, are you?" she asked, a tone of sudden, unfamiliar coldness to her voice. I glanced up at her. "No," I said, sounding uncertain even to me. Was I annoyed? And if I was, did I have a right to be? Kathleen looked annoyed. "If you have something to say, then just say it."

    "Why couldn't you have gotten the book at the library?" came out of my mouth. "Why did you have to go to Mendips to get it? I don't see a problem with you and John being friends, but you don't have to go out of your way to get things from him." I shut my mouth, my cheeks scarlet. Kathleen had a way of being forwards, making you say what was really on your mind, and I had hit the nail on the head with my feelings.

    "It was just a friendly act," she said, pursing her lips, putting down her spoon in her pumpkin soup in the same manner I had put down that French cookbook in the bookshop. "You needn't be so jealous about it."

    I tried to salvage the situation. "I'm sorry," I said shortly, and then tried again. "I'm sorry. I know you're not trying to take John or anything. Why would you ever want to do that?" I looked into her brown eyes and smiled, but she was looking away. Instead we met across the table, squeezing our hands together in an affirmation of friendship. "I'm sorry for biting your head off about the situation," Kathleen finally said, looking into my eyes at last.

***

    I decided to visit Martin after Kathleen and I parted ways. I took the bus to his flat and knocked on his door. His grandfather opened it, looking exactly the same as before with his white hair, thin face, and gruff smile. "Hello, Cora," he greeted me.

    "Hello," I responded, surprised that he remembered my name. "I just wanted to check on Martin. He was supposed—"

    "He's sick," grandpa replied, frowning. "Got a cold. You can still see him, if you'd like. You won't catch anything. Colds were more vicious back in the war days. You kids have no idea what a cold means."

    How I missed him. Grinning, I followed him to Martin's bedroom door where he knocked rapidly and announced my arrival. "Martin, it's Cora, ye remember her don't ye? Careful not to spread your germs, boy." I heard Martins' distinct voice invite me inside and grandpa opened the door for me, giving me a smile before shuffling back to his fag and telly.

    "Hello," he said, sitting upright in bed and I walked over to him and put my arms around him. I could feel him start in surprise. "Well, well, what's this all about?"

    "Missed ye, that's all," I told him. I backed away, hands in the air. "No germs now."

    "Five second rule," he cheekily responded and we both laughed. I drew up his desk chair to his bed, noting the steaming mug of tea and toast. Brits. We're all the same. "Grandpa says you've got a cold, yeah?"

    "Bit of a shock. I never get sick. Hope never to get sick again."

    And you won't, I couldn't help but think. Instead, you'll watch everyone else get sick. Which fate is worse?

    "You've really never gotten sick?" I asked him in interest. He nodded. "S'pose I wash properly and all that jazz. Anyways enough about my health, as fascinating as it is. What's happening in your life?"

    "Met Kathleen today at lunch," I told him.

    "Sorry I couldn't come." He tried to kick his covers off but coughed and I gently pushed him back into bed. "Well, a cold does that to you. Bet the chef wouldn't have wanted you get everyone else sick. Anyways, yesterday Kathleen went round all the way to Mendips to borrow a book from John. I got a little pissed at that. Why couldn't she have gone to the library?"

    Martin shook his head. "Kathleen is strange, her head is in the clouds so much. Who knows why. I don't think it means anything."

    I felt a little better. I reached out for Martin's hand and he smirked at me. "Don't make me feel too much like an invalid. Tell me about Hamburg."

    I told him about the night where John jumped at a man twice his size and how Ringo stopped the fight and I played My Bonnie to smooth things over, and the time we fell into the water and had a warm bath, and our recording at Friedrich-Ebert-Halle school. "John found yer letter," I commented dryly. "Threw a bit of a fit, he did. And then we made up after that." I paused. "I think uncommon little tiffs are good for us, they strengthen our relationship. We always make up in the end."

Hihi what's up folks i hope u enjoyed this chapter!! Bc the next one is gonna be a real banger buckle ur seatbelts!