The Arch of Love ~ Paul McCartney

43. Walls

Liverpool, 24 December '67, 8:09 AM

December had passed in the blink of an eye. Before I knew it, I left the hospital to start a week-and-a-half worth of holidays. Sure, life in the hospital still went on, but because I hadn't taken many days off during the year, I was allowed to take Christmas and New Year's off.

Life had changed drastically, however. The magazine that had promised my name in their next issue had delivered and had actually managed to get my name. When Paul and I went out again at the beginning of December, the press had taken a second photo and my identity had finally been discovered.

The very day after the magazine was issued, I was called into the office of the dean of medicine at work. I had never seen that guy before and I didn't realise he had known of me either. But now that everyone knew who I was, he wanted to have a word with me. I didn't think my relationship was any of the hospital's business, let alone that it would be a problem, but apparently I had been mistaken.

'There's nothing in your contract with us that forbids you from courting a famous person, miss Murray, but I've been told that's not the only contract linking you to this hospital, is it?' the man had said, so vague that I had no clue what he was getting at.

He cleared it up. 'I meant the contract regarding Mr and Mrs Starkey's pregnancy and birthing. I understand you signed on to that case in February?'

'Yes sir, but their little one was born in August. I thought the contract ended after that. I haven't seen either of them since, either,' I explained. At least that much was true. That stupid contract wouldn't come back and bite me in the bum, now would it? If it would, I was going to have to have a good conversation with a certain drummer.

'You signed a contract stating that you wouldn't have any inappropriate contact with any of the members of the so-called Beatles during the calendar year. I felt and so did your colleagues signed on that case, that a relationship could definitely be considered as inappropriate contact,' he explained.

I felt my blood run cold. My colleagues felt it was inappropriate? Dr Andrews, who had been kind enough to drive me to the Starkey's party, who had even saved me from the wrath of John Lennon? And worse, nurse Grace Foster, the girl whose cover I had held. She was much too much of a fan of the Beatles to be an appropriate nurse on the case, but I hadn't blabbed a word, had I? She dared to stab me in the back like that?

'So, I took the liberty to reach out to Mr Starkey and ask his opinion on the matter,' the dean had continued. A shiver ran down my back, but he didn't seem to notice. 'You'll be happy to know that he was of a much different opinion than us. He didn't seem to mind and promised me he wouldn't run for a breach of contract.'

I sighed audibly, thankful for Ritchie. He had saved me. I knew he hadn't been pleased with me going with Paul, but he hadn't snubbed me out. He could've gotten me fired with one word and yet he had spared me. I knew I owed him. As soon as I saw him again, I would have to thank him. If it wasn't for Ritchie, I would've lost my job.

Work had been very interesting after that. I suddenly had loads of friends in colleagues that didn't bother to look my way before. And there were also the people I had been friendly with before, that now didn't want anything to do with me. I couldn't imagine that people could be so fake. Why would you change the way you act around me, just because I was going out with someone famous? It was ridiculous.

And Paul wasn't there to support me either. He had promised me he would, but no, he had run off to Scotland to get out of the opening of the Apple Boutique. As he described it; it was a gathering of people who had no business at Apple, organised by John, without a liquor licence. Especially the latter had been a selling point. Paul had blatantly refused to drink apple juice all night, as it was "basically, the joy of everyone at Apple sucked out of it." He was dramatic like that.