The Arch of Love ~ Paul McCartney

2. An evening I won't forget

Paddington, 11 December '66, Approx. 4:30 PM

I was walking towards the tube station from the hospital after a long morning shift. My feet hurt and my eyes were starting to burn from the cold. I just wanted to get home to prop my feet up and get a cuppa.

I was a corner away from the tube station, when I saw him walking towards me, hunched down, hands deep inside his pockets, collar sticking up, woollen cap on, desperately trying not to be seen or recognised. In vain as I recognised him straight away.

I looked for a way around him, to not have to talk to him, but I quickly realised I couldn't. The tube station was that way and there wasn't a pavement on the other side of the road. All I could do, was walk past him and hope he didn't recognise me.

But of course... Only three steps away and I heard his voice. 'Archie, what are you doing here?'

I looked up and faked surprise. It was clear I shouldn't be an actress, but Paul didn't seem to notice. 'Hey, Paul. What a coincidence. I just came from work. What about you?'

'Just had to pop around the shops and wanted a stroll in the park.' He smiled sincerely, not a trace of uncomfortableness in it. How did he not feel uncomfortable, while that was all I felt when I looked at him? Did he not remember Los Angeles? I knew I was pretty drunk at the time, but I could definitely recall a bed in a hotel room which I shared with him.

I nodded and hopped around from one leg to another. My feet were killing me. Honestly, I just wanted to go home and forget about all of this. How could I politely end this conversation?

'Funny. I haven't seen you in years and suddenly twice in under three months. It must be fate,' he continued, oblivious to my aching feet.

'Fate for what?' I questioned, trying to sound sincere. I wasn't really interested in this small talk anymore.

'I don't know,' he chuckled, making me cringe on the inside. 'Hey, do you want to go for a cup of tea or something?' he offered, making me perk up. Yes, tea! That's all I wanted, to prop my feet up and enjoy a good cuppa.

I tried to not sound as excited as I felt for the warm cup of heaven. 'Sure, tea sounds good. There's a shop around here,' I offered and Paul nodded.

'How's that friend of yours from L.A.?' he asked when we were seated in a small corner of the tea shop, both nursing a cuppa. Ah, so he did remember that night. Well, he remembered meeting me in California, at least. Who knows about what happened that night.

'You know, Fran had just about a heart attack when you popped up behind me,' I said truthfully. 'She wouldn't stop blabbing my ear off during the flight home. Suddenly England is a long way.'

'She did?'

'Yeah, she couldn't understand how I knew you. So I just had to tell her about how annoying of a lad you were back at Joe Williams,' I grinned, referencing back to the primary school we both attended.

'I wasn't that bad. You, on the other hand, were the strange one. I recall you were always stuffing your pockets with sand from the playground,' he fired back and I felt my cheeks heat up.

'I stopped doing that in year four!' I explained myself. 'Cor, that was such a long time ago, wasn't it? We were eleven when we left.'

'Yes, '53 it was. All off in different directions. I saw the others after that for a bit. You not so much,' he reminisced. He looked me in the eyes, but it felt like he was looking straight through me. As if he was trying to decipher a code and the answer was lying next to my frontal lobe. I felt vulnerable, naked almost. 'You left the 'pool all together, didn't you? Got shipped off to boarding school, you.'