The Arch of Love ~ Paul McCartney

38. Today

St John's Wood, 5 October '67, 10:01 AM

'Do you want to be with me still?'

Jane's words still rang through the bedroom. She was asking Paul to make the final choice, to decide on that ultimatum. Her or me. It was his choice, but whatever he chose, it would be final. The redhead had made it clear that she wasn't going to put up with him going out on her another time. So whatever he chose, whoever, would be definite.

I knew it was check mate as soon as she asked that fateful question. She knew it too. That's why she asked it in the first place. Paul was never going to choose me. I was just a simple nurse from Liverpool, I was not fit to be his girlfriend. No, a famous rock 'n roll star like him needed a girl by his side that was just as high profile as he was. Jane was perfect for the job. I wasn't.

'Because if you do, if you say yes, then she needs to go.' She chose her words carefully and spoke them in a very deliberate way. She spoke so calmly and confidently that I realised she had had this conversation before. Maybe not so much with Paul, but maybe in her head with herself. She had been waiting for the opportunity to arise to finally tell him how she felt.

One perfectly manicured finger pointed in my direction, but I knew better than to think it was directed at just me. She was referring to every girl Paul had ever spent the night with while calling Jane his girlfriend. Every groupie on tour, every girl in a sweaty nightclub, every gate bird.

Paul sighed, took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, before looking up at her again. His eyes flickered to mine for a brief moment and I could see the certainty in them. This was it. This was the moment he was going to tell me to pack my stuff, hand in my key and disappear from his life again.

Well, Paul, she was right. This was it. Whomever you might choose, that was final. Ultimately he would choose his girlfriend, back out of his promises to me, back out of me. I had pulled the plug on us twice, so naturally it was his turn now.

I nodded, telling him it was alright. Our game of love had been great, but it had come to an end now. There could only be one winner and that winner wasn't me. I tried to silently send my goodbyes to him, tried to hold our eye contact a little longer. I accepted my defeat.

But before I realised it, he was looking at his girlfriend again. He took another deep breath before he finally opened his mouth to deliver his verdict. 'I guess I don't,' he said.

It took me a fraction of a second to realise what he was saying, who he was choosing. When I did, my eyes immediately found his. He only shot me a fleeting glance, but there was a certainty in his hazel eyes that I hadn't expected. I could see a hint of a smile forming on his lips as he looked back at Jane.

Right, Jane. When I looked at her, I could see the pain on her face, in her entire posture. This hadn't been the answer she was expecting and it hurt her more than she wanted to let on. It hurt more than she could mask.

I expected her to scream, to shout, curse my name, drag me down, claw at me, but she didn't. Instead, she cast her eyes down and sighed, a shaky, breathy sigh and then smiled a watery smile. 'That's what I thought,' she said as she slowly shook her head. 'Goodbye Paul.'

And with that, she was gone. She turned around and left the bedroom. I heard her footsteps down the stairs and then through the front door. Only when I heard the door shut close, did I dare to look up, dare to believe it.

Paul was mine.

He was mine!

In some strange twist of fate, I had won. I had won the game I was sure I had been losing from the start. The game that, I had decided, was more important to play than to win. And suddenly, when all seemed to be lost, I had won.