The Certainty Of Chance (Beatles Fan Fiction)

14

“Aber-what-wyth?” John laughed.

May smiled, “It took me about a month to learn how to say it too. In English it means ‘mouth of the river Ystwyth’. Except the Ystwyth is a little stream, the Rhiedol is the big river so it should be Aberrhiedol, really. Yeah, it’s nice but…”

“What? It’s full of Welsh people?” John offered jokingly.

“It’s not London. It’s like living forty years ago there. It’s so dead and dull.”

“Ah, so that’s why you’ve legged it back here then?” John said.

“John!” Paul warned.

“What? She’s not gonna crumble!”

“Yeah, kind of,” May answered shyly.

“Well, you’re welcome to stay at ours as long as you like,” Ringo said kindly.

“Thanks,” May said.

“Don’t tell her that!” George added, “She’ll never bugger off!”

They laughed, and the sudden reality of the situation hit May. Here she was sitting in a pub with the Beatles, and she was so wrapped up in her own life and problems she had hardly noticed. Only a few days ago she would have given her right arm for this, and she was letting Jack, even from this distance, spoil it for her. Who knew when she would have to go back to talking to just a picture of George instead of the real thing? May made up her mind to enjoy herself while she had the chance, for the next few days at least, the last thing she would think about would be Jack and Wales. He was probably wondering why she hadn’t come back yet, well, let him stew a bit.

“Does this film have a title then?” she asked, forcing herself to sound a bit more cheerful.

“No,” George said.

“Beatles film number one,” Paul added.

“There are going to be more?” May said, getting excited.

“There’s a contract for three,” Ringo told her, “If these slobs can manage half decent acting, that is.”

“Speak for yerself,” John said, getting up and heading to the bar.

A couple of hours and a lot of beer passed quickly and things loosened up a bit. Someone put some money in the juke box which was well stocked with rock and roll 45’s and the music soon had everyone’s foot tapping.

“Let’s go dancing,” George said to May, sounding slightly merry.

“Alright,” she agreed.

“What’s that?” John challenged, overhearing. “Mr. Harrison, are you thinking of recklessly going to irreputatible night clubs, the very night before another hard day’s location filming?”

“Without us?!” Paul added

“Well, you can come too then. But I’m not dancin’ no slow ones with you, Lennon,” George said.

“Ah, in yer dreams, la.” John told him.

“You comin’ Bill?” Paul leaned back on his chair to a man who had been sitting at the adjacent table, with his nose in the Evening Standard.

“Nah, it’s just the way he’s sitting,” John said and May giggled. George raised an eyebrow at her, and she smiled, feeling her cheeks colour.

“How about I just drop you lads off there?” Bill said, folding the paper up.

‘Grand idea,” George said standing up.

The chauffeured car was only really adequate for the four of them and instantly became cramped with the addition of May.