The Arch of Love ~ Paul McCartney

19. The night we met

Liverpool, 8 May '67, approx. 3:17 PM

'You want to get rid of me?' The tone in Paul's voice surprised me. I didn't think he would feel this much emotion about it. Why was he sad? Heck, I didn't even mean to say it. Not like this at least. But now I couldn't deny it, could I?

I squinted my eyes together to that point where it was still safe to drive, but I wasn't seeing much else, either. I was mentally giving myself slaps in the face. Yes, you were stupid, Archie, very, very stupid.

I didn't want to break if off with Paul like this. This really wasn't what I had in mind. I had pictured it to be in my flat, just the two of us, maybe a glass of pinot noir and slowly easing in to the subject. Instead, I had just dumped it on him like a football that bounced off the crossbar; harsh and not completely on target.

'I didn't mean it like that,' I tried to explain, but Paul interrupted me.

'You didn't mean it like that? Then what on this bloody earth did you mean by it? Because it seems pretty straight forward to me. You want me out of your life. That's it, isn't it? You came all the way to Liverpool to tell me that you want to quit us!' The anger in his voice was rising again, as he rattled all of this on me, taking that one sentence way out of context.

'That's not it!' I protested. 'Listen to me, Paul. I didn't come to Liverpool to tell you to quit. I came up here to get you out of my mind for the weekend. That's what I meant. I just needed to clear my mind!'

It was quiet for a moment. He seemed to be lost in thought. I was just about to speak again, when Paul opened his mouth. 'Oh, that makes sense, I guess. I needed some time to think about us as well. So you don't want to break if off?'

And this was my life line. This was the hard part. I could cower out of it now. I was a fucking coward anyways. No one had to know. Paul didn't and neither did Trudie. Something in me however, probably the sleepless nights and all the weight I lost of stressing over him, made me face my fear. No recoiling today. Be a man, Archie! Balls up!

'No, I do. I can't do this anymore, Paul. I can't see you anymore,' I said quietly. Too quietly. I was still cowering away. If Paul hadn't heard me, I didn't know if I had it in me to repeat it. But he did hear.

'What do you mean?' he asked after a pause. I could feel his eyes on me, but I couldn't meet them. I couldn't meet his gaze or I would definitely back out.

But I had to do this, didn't I? 'I came up here to think about you and I. I actually had a long conversation with Trudie about it. She called me a fool for falling for your tricks,' I answered, truthfully.

'My tricks? I don't have any tricks,' he protested, clearly confused. In the corner of my eye I could see him scratch the side of his nose, after which he put his hand really, really close to the gear stick. Right where my hand was resting.

'Yes you do!' I countered. 'The tricks you use to get any girl in bed that you want. Those tricks!' I tore my hand away from the gear stick; I didn't have to shift on the motorway anyways. And if he took it, I didn't know what I would do.

'But you...' Paul started, but I didn't let him finish.

'Oh, don't try to deny it! You and I both know that's how it started. You saw me in August and decided I was your flavour for the night. Only I was the fool who actually got caught up in it. Twice,' I sneered. Tears were burning in my eyes now, dangerously close to spilling over. I couldn't cry. I wouldn't cry. I had had to many tears over this man already. There shouldn't be any more.

'What are you saying, Arch?' he asked, forcing me to actually say it. We both know what I started and where I was leading to, but now I had to spell it out for him. Yet, the break-up was imminent.