The Devil In Her Heart (Beatles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 27

From New Muscial Express, August 28th 1965

TEARS AND TANTRUMS ON BEATLES TOUR

There have been a few Hard Days Night's over at The Beatle household recently. After manager, Brian Epstein decamped back to the UK, leaving the Fab Four with new manager, Michael Archer, rumours of fights, arguments and walks outs have been rife – the latest of these stating Beatle George is now living separately from the rest of the band, only meeting them on stage. Perhaps, after two years of Beatlemania, the strains are starting to show. Or perhaps the yet unidentified Redhead George has been seen with has something to do with it? The girl, pictured here with George at the premier of Help! a few months ago, joined the Beatles on tour as a costume assistant. Beatle Paul too, is rumoured to be staying at alternative hotels on occasion. The Beatles' office denies all rumours, but this reporters says, 'Where there's smoke...' What we can be sure of however, is that The Beatles will not be sad to see the back of this tour as they return back to British shores this week. There is a UK tour on the cards this winter. It may be worth seeing them if you can, because it could easily be their last.

September 2nd 1965

As George reached the door, he hesitated. What if Archer had been wrong? What if Pattie was still living at Kinfauns after all? He didn't want to find her inside, not least with Grace in tow at three o'clock in the morning.

"Haven't you got the key?' Grace asked, sounding tired. She stood behind him.

"Yes," George replied and put it into the lock.

Once Grace had set her mind on the house at Esher, there had been no dissuading her. George couldn't face arranging it himself so he had Archer sort it out. He hated asking him. It was tantamount to accepting him as Brian's replacement. But Brian had disappeared from the face of the earth, and Mal, true to his word, had been uncharacteristically unhelpful, even though he had stuck with them throughout the North America tour.

George had been sure Pattie would still be living here. Kinfauns had been her pet project – she'd handpicked all the furniture, the carpets and the curtains, spent hours in old antique shops and scouring Camden Market or the King's Road for lamps, rugs and all sorts of knick‐knacks. He couldn't imagine her ever wanting to leave it. Archer had made a few enquiries on George's behalf and informed him that the bungalow was now empty, much to Grace's glee, she insisted they move in that very night.

George pushed the front door open. It creaked and stuck a bit, as if it hadn't been opened in a long time. It hadn't.

George switched the hall light on as he stepped inside. The house smelled stuffy and dusty. Grace pushed past him, walking into the lounge, turning on the lights.

"It's good to be home, isn't it?' she said.

George nodded, dropping the house keys onto the hall table.

"I'm so fed up with hotel rooms. I don't care if I never stay at another one!' Grace disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. "Do you want a cup of tea before bed? I'm parched."

George followed her carefully, looking around the house feeling that he shouldn't recognise it. Except it was all so familiar. It was as if he had never been away. Then, he realised, that was perhaps because it was exactly as he had left it. There was an abandoned coffee cup on the arm of the chair. The small amount of coffee left in it had solidfied and grown mould. George had left it there. He had left it there that afternoon in July when he had walked out on Pattie. He picked it up.

"What's that?" Grace returned and took the cup from him.

"Nothing. A cup."

She looked inside it and pulled her face. "Urgh. She wasn't very house proud, your last girlfriend, was she?'