The Arch of Love ~ Paul McCartney

21. Breathe

Notting Hill, 14 June '67, 4:10 PM

And just like that, life started to get back to normal again. At least what I had found normal before Paul. I worked my shifts and went straight home, like a good girl, after that. I didn't venture out much on my off days and if I did, I tried to stay away from North-West London. It didn't help that I lived in North-West London.

I managed to avoid Paul completely. Only once did I have to jump in a random bus to avoid meeting him on the sidewalk. The bus had taken me all the way to Camden Town before I dared to get off and make my way back home.

But with the release of Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, it was near impossible to not get in daily contact with something Beatles related. Their music was everywhere and if it wasn't their music, it was the new fashion or art, which were also heavily promoted by the Beatles. Even more, it seemed as though Paul himself had made it his personal goal to endorse anything that fought against the establishment.

But, the Summer of Love, as it would come to be known, was also a great way to get over former lovers. Many nights were spent with blokes I would never hear from again. And if I wasn't going out, I spent the warm, summer nights inside the flat with Fran. We would have all the windows wide open and would discover our own highs and lows and minds with the help of a little herb called Mary Jane. Maybe not completely legal, but a great way to get over former lovers too.

One night, halfway through June, I found myself sat in the apartment of a colleague, sharing a joint with a group of people I had never met before. I knew my colleague and that was about it. But I couldn't complain and after an hour with the group I wouldn't complain of anything.

'Paul McCartney was the greatest mistake of my life,' I said to no one in particular, after I exhaled a long drag of the joint.

'Preach, girl. I spent way too much time in front of that gate of his, begging him to come out. Were you a gate girl too? I knew you looked familiar,' the girl who took the joint from me, said. She was young, barely older than eighteen probably and apparently one of the girls that would yell abusive slurs at me when I would go over to Paul's house. Great to know who I was getting high with.

'Something like that. He wasted my life,' I sighed. And that was all that was said about it.

And then there was the bad news. Fran's boyfriend, Matthew, had felt inspired by the sparks that surrounded the summer of love and had proposed to her. And because they were the most perfect couple ever, Fran had said yes. They were engaged to be married and, thus, Fran was going to leave out little flat after the wedding.

Though no wedding date had been set yet, I did start to panic. There was no way I could afford to live in Notting Hill on my own. I couldn't afford the rent to our flat, so I would have to move, too. Where to, was the question, however.

I had enough money saved to cover me for a few months after Fran would move out, but there wasn't a lot. I would have to find a cheaper flat sooner rather than later and that would probably not be as close to St Mary's as I lived now.

'Don't worry, Archie. You can always come live with me. You know that, right?' my sister, Maggie, offered, one lazy afternoon. We were lounging in the living room of my flat with the windows wide open and a glass of sauvignon blanc, each. Sure, it wasn't five just yet, but it was five somewhere, right? The faint sound of people selling and buying fresh produce and weird antiques on the Portobello Road Market made their way inside.

'Thank you, Mags,' I smiled at my older sister. She was the only other Murray to have made the move south. The rest of my siblings still lived in Liverpool, but not Maggie, who was an office clerk somewhere in the city. The only problem was that she lived below the river; it would take me ages to get to work in the morning. 'I know I can count on you.'

'No, I mean it. Sure, I don't live the closest, but if you need a place to stay, you can always knock on my door,' she assured me.

'That is, until you marry,' I answered ruefully.

'Oh don't be ridiculous, Patrick won't propose any time soon,' she laughed it off, but I could tell that her heart wasn't in on the joke.

'I'm sure he will. He loves you and you love him, don't you?' I asked, now with a true smile on my face. Patrick, an American who had come across the pond to study and now worked some high end office job, was a good guy. He just wasn't really my cup of tea, not my kind of guy. But the couple of times I had seen him with my sister showed me that he did really love her and that was all I could wish for Maggie.

'He does, doesn't he?' She seemed to dream away for a bit, but then realised I wasn't in it. 'What about you, Archie? How is it with you and the love? Ma's worried, you know?'

I sighed deeply. 'Did she ask you about it too? Blimey, I've all my siblings coming after me, asking about my love life,' I exclaimed, annoyed, because I was annoyed. Honestly, couldn't that woman give me some time? I was only twenty-four; I had time!

Maggie chuckled. 'She did, actually. But Trudie called me and told me to not push it. That is, if I wasn't going to ask you about this guy you're apparently having an affair with?' she insinuated, with raised eyebrows.

'Ugh,' I let out, frustratedly shutting my eyes. I took a long sip of my wine, before I opened my eyes again. Another sigh later and I was ready to talk. 'Of course she told you.'

'You know, I thought she was wrong. I couldn't imagine you with an affair, but this actually makes me think you have one!' she accused me, a grin on her face.

'It's true,' I admitted. 'Well, it was. I met someone last year and we spent the night together. Then we met again and again, until we kept meeting.' God, it sounded so bad, so cheap and it also hurt so much. I was proud of myself for being over Paul, but recalling the start of it actually made me realise how much I wasn't over him. It still hurt to talk about that one guy I could never have.

'What happened? Are you still seeing him? Because it sounds like you two just can't keep away from each other,' Maggie questioned, immediately assuming the truth. For some strange and bizarre reason, Paul and I couldn't stay away from each other and when we met, it almost always ended up with sex. It had been the same back in '61. There was this pull between us that I couldn't explain, but I could do nothing about but act upon.

'We couldn't and it was good for a bit. But then I woke up and realised he's got a girlfriend that isn't me. I can't be with him, even if I want to,' I said quietly. I reached over for the wine bottle and topped up both our glasses. I needed more of the magical liquid that made me warm inside and made it easier to talk. I needed it to take away the pain that came with even thinking about him.

'Oh, Archie, why would you do that to yourself?' my sister asked, her voice dripping with a mixture of disappointment, judgement and sadness.

'I don't know,' I said, frustrated with myself. Because, yes Archie, why would you do that to yourself? Stupid, stupid girl. 'It's like every time I'm with him, I just have to.'

'Is he all you think about at night?' she asked and I nodded, not sure where she was going with this. 'And if you see or smell something usual, does that remind you of him?' I nodded again. 'What about when you close your eyes? Do you see him?' And another nod.

'Why?' I asked, really confused why she wanted to know this.

'Archie, it sounds like you're in love with him,' she concluded.

I widened my eyes. 'Obviously not. I can't be in love with him. You're wrong,' I protested, because she was wrong. It was as clear as day. 'Look, I broke it off anyways. We're no longer seeing each other. It's all in the past. Can we just give it a rest?'

Maggie didn't push on and I was thankful for that. If I had realised one thing over the past month, was that explaining your love life to others, was not helpful in any way. They would just assume things that clearly weren't true.

Anyways, Paul was in my past. I wouldn't see him ever again. As long as he would listen to me and stay away, I could go out of my way to avoid him. Eventually I would forget him and that was all I wanted.