Out of Time

3: Till There Was You

August 3, 1963

The boys had just finished a long concert at the Cavern Club, which I heard consisted of over 500 fans packing into the tiny club, just to get a glimpse of The Beatles. Ringo filled me in, telling me that one fan grabbed John's sleeve and tore it off, and that there was even a power outage during the midst of their performance. Understandably, John was pretty irritated, so we all decided to go to a pub nearby for a quick drink. I figured I might as well enjoy myself, since I didn't know how long I even had here. Being in the sixties with The Beatles had been my dream ever since I could remember, but now actually being in 1963, I was scared out of my mind that I might mess something up.

I giggled to myself. I mean, here I was, hanging out with The Beatles and all I could do is worry. One night of fun couldn't hurt, right?

"So Michelle, are 'ya from around here?" Paul questioned, walking alongside me. I actually hadn't considered thinking of a backstory, so I was put on the spot. I mean, what was I supposed to say? That I time traveled here, and I had no idea how, why, or even if I could get back home? I pushed the thought out of my mind, as I had plenty of time to think of that later.

"Well actually, I just got here from America, so I don't quite have a place to stay yet." I lied through my teeth, hoping they bought it, "And it seems I lost all my luggage, so I guess I'm kind of in a tough spot," I sighed, biting my lip.

"Don't worry love, we'll help you out." Paul softly spoke, looking into my eyes, causing butterflies to flutter around in my stomach. I guess those acting classes paid off, I thought to myself.

"Won't we help her, boys?" He grinned, calling out.

"Sure thing, Paul." George grunted.

"Course so 'Elle," I giggled at the new nickname Ringo had given me.

"Oh it'll be my pleasure dear," John spoke with an exaggerated accent as he fell behind the other, now walking next to Paul and I, "only one condition."

"And what might that be, Lennon?" I asked wearily, letting a grin peak through my lips. John leaned close, and I could feel his breath on my neck as he whispered in my ear, "Give us a kiss!" I gently shoved him aside, blushing profusely as his face lit up, cackling at his own joke.

"Ignore him Elle, he's always like that."

I smiled, seeing Paul had adopted Ringo's nickname for me. John glanced back at us, and stuck his tongue out at Paul like a toddler.

"In all seriousness though," Paul began, "if you need a place to stay tonight, my flat is just right down the road." he gently grinned at me.

"I wouldn't want to cause any trouble for you Paul,"

"Nah Michelle, I insist. No trouble at all."

I couldn't help but giggle as I looked at Paul's carefree grin. "I mean, it's pretty hard to say no to you, McCharmly," I teased as we slowed our walking to a halt.

Time seemed to stand still as Paul and I stood there grinning like idiots, looking at each other, not saying a word. It seemed as if neither one of us wanted to break the happy silence. Luckily for us, we had John Lennon to do that himself.

"Alright lovebirds," he groaned, "cut it out, we're here."

We seemed to have arrived at an old pub. As I pushed open the door, pieces of old, rough, brown paint crumbled at the touch. I stepped inside and was stunned, as I began coughing due to the dirty, stale cloud of smoke which seemed to consume the room. Still in my white top, and bright pink skirt, I looked an awful lot out of place. I felt Paul's hand on my lower back, gently guiding me forwards, through the crowd of seemingly never ending people. Paul, George, Ringo, and I ended up at a large wooden table, John having already ran after some birds.

"Can I get you a drink, Elle?" Paul was almost inaudible, as sounds of people, laughter, and music filled the air.

I silently nodded, and watched Paul walk out of sight, getting lost in the crowd. I peaked around the pub, talking everything in, my eyes shining in curiosity. The dim, muted colors of the bar were balanced out by the amber bottles on the wall, sparkling as the soft light danced upon them. I looked over at the band, and noticed all of the couples dancing together, swaying to the beat of the music.

I focused in on one couple in particular, the girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, and the boy with brown hair and green eyes. They shuffled together, staring at each other in pure bliss. "Ahh," I whispered, "to be in love."

My attention drifted off of the couple back to Paul, who was clutching two drinks in his hands, walking towards me. As he neared, I gratefully smiled and took the drink in my hand.

...

Soon enough, one drink turned into two, and two turned into five. Paul had gotten me something fruity, and slightly bitter. He seemed to know exactly what I liked after having known me less than 24 hours. Just one of the many things I was beginning to like about Paul.

"Favorite food?" I asked.

"Mhmm, definitely roast beef."

I giggled, knowing his vegetarianism that would come with time.

"Mine's spaghetti." I slurred, pretty tipsy at this point. "Okay, your question now."

We'd been talking for hours, starting with small talk, moving to deep meaningful conversations, to now questioning each other back and forth.

"Okay," he pondered for a moment, "ever been in love?"

My heart stopped, as memories flooded back. "Yes, I have. Once." I answered wearily.

I took a swig of Paul's whiskey, having drained my glass already. I felt it in the back of my throat as I tried to forget about the question.

I began to snicker, as I came up with a question for Paul.

"Okay Paul, I've got one for you. Do you want to know a secret?"

Paul's eyes shinned as his face broke out into an eager grin, and he nodded.

I leaned close, my lips almost touching his ear. I giggled.

"I'm from the future, Paul."