No More Lonely Nights - A Fan Fiction

No More Lonely Nights - Chapter Seventy-Seven

10 February 1965.

Liverpool, England.

ALLIE: I woke up this morning feeling run-down and drained. I hadn't thrown up any more after that incident at around midnight, but the second half of a typical bout of food poisoning set in soon after, so needless to say, my stomach continued to keep me awake, just in a different way. I might have slept for two or three hours on and off, but not much more than that. As for Paul, I don't think he slept at all, as he was awake each time I woke up, sitting up in bed next to me, as if he were keeping watch over me because I was sick. He is bound to be exhausted today.

I turned a bit and saw that the other half of the bed was empty, which meant that my other half must have gotten up already. I didn't much mind, as I didn't expect him to lay here with me all day. I saw a piece of paper propped against the lamp on the nightstand, and I reached over and picked it up, smiling as I read what was written on it-

Allie,

I'm still here, don't think I've gone anywhere when you wake up. I woke up earlier and couldn't go back to sleep, so I decided to go on ahead and get up and start on your laundry for you (there wasn't a towel left in the house, I noticed- however, your sheets could not be saved, I regret to inform you). When you wake up and find this, just call my name and I'll be right there.

Paul

P.S. I love you.

I found myself smiling even more at the "P.S. I love you" he'd slipped into the note. He seemed fond of using that line in all of the notes and letters he wrote me, as I know he said writing letters to me was the inspiration for the band's song of the same name. I folded the piece of paper up and tucked it in the top drawer of my nightstand, adding it to the growing collection of pen-to-paper words he had spoken to me over the past three years.

"You're awake," I heard him say, just as I was opening my mouth to call his name. He was standing in the doorway, a stack of now-clean towels in his arms. "Are you feeling any better this morning?"

I sighed. "I feel like I have been beaten down or something," I replied. "I am so sore all over. Plus I still have a headache and my stomach is still hurting."

He set the towels in the floor and crossed the room to the bed. "Poor baby," he said softly, embracing me. I put my head against Paul's shoulder and sighed. "I'll be okay today, I think," I told him.

"I hope so," he said. "You look a little better. Not much, though."

"The nausea's gone, I'm just really achy still. You know what I really want right about now, though?"

"What, Allie?" Paul asked, running his fingers through my hair.

"The hottest shower on the face of the earth. I think it would help with the soreness, plus, I mean, I need one anyway."

"You think you'd be strong enough to stand long enough to take a shower?"

"That's the only problem. I doubt it. I just feel like I'm made out of gelatin or something. I don't think walking two feet would be an easy task right now." I sighed. "This is really annoying."

He looked at me, and I saw that familiar expression on his face, the one that I knew all too well, the one he put on when I was saying something that he knew he had the solution to. "Don't you get what I'm trying to say?" Paul said. "I'd think you would, you've known me long enough."

"I know what you're saying. That's entirely up to you, Paul, I'm not going to decide that one for you." Truthfully, having him help me was what I wanted, but I didn't want to come out and ask him. I don't know why I seem to have issues with asking Paul to do things for me. I guess I just can't get past the fact that he's not just my fiancé Paul McCartney, he's my fiancé Paul McCartney of the Beatles. Yeah, I guess I kind of need to let the Beatle part of that go for once.

He was already unbuttoning his shirt, so I suppose he's made up his mind. Once Paul makes up his mind about something, goodness knows it is impossible to get him to change direction no matter how much a person tries to reason with him. That's both a quality I admire in him and also one that can annoy me at times.

I leaned against his shoulder and sighed. I didn't feel like getting out of the bed, but the thought of the hot water running down my aching body was tempting enough to entice me to get up. "You're going to have to carry me in there, most likely. I don't think I can stand up for long without some support."

Paul tossed his shirt to the side and nodded. "Look, Allie, if you want me to do something, why don't you just ask me? I know you have the whole thing about me being a Beatle in your mind, but baby, that's no reason not to ask for my help. I'm still the same Paul that I was the night I met you, nothing's changed. You know that."

"I know." I sighed. "I guess I'm just hesitant to ask regardless. I don't want to be a bother."

He helped me undress before speaking again. "You're not a bother. I wouldn't be doing this right now if you were, now would I?"

"No, I guess not," I said. "I appreciate everything you do for me, Paul, more than you will ever know. I'd say we've now both seen each other at our worst, we can handle anything."

"You've seen me all but dead, I've seen you vomiting uncontrollably for sixteen hours nonstop. Yes, I'd say you're right. We can take anything the world throws our way. No worries." He removed the rest of his apparel, and for once, I wasn't immediately thinking about sex, seeing him without anything on. I was too worn out to even consider sex at the moment, and I likely wouldn't even be strong enough to handle such an activity for a few more days. He gathered me in his arms, and I put my head on his shoulder and wrapped my arms around his neck.

Standing under the hot stream of water coming from the shower head helped to drain the aching pain from my body, but I knew it would be a few days before I was myself again. I wished, as Paul held me, that a small bit of his strength would somehow transfer into me and take the weakness away. I couldn't even stand in the shower without having him support me, and I realized just how ill I had truly been yesterday if I didn't even have the strength to stand on my own two feet.

"Are you all right?" he asked me. "You're really quiet."

I sighed. "I don't know. I just hate the feeling of not even being able to stand on my own without needing some form of support. I really was sick yesterday, I now realize, if I feel this lethargic even now."

"It's normal, I'm sure. You saw how I was as I was getting over being so sick last winter." He helped me rinse the shampoo bubbles from my hair then turned off the water. "You'll be all right."

"I know. It's just not the most pleasant feeling on the face of the earth." I wrapped a towel around myself and allowed Paul to help me step out of the shower. "That made me feel better, it really did. But I think I'm ready to lay back down now."

"I thought as much." We sat on the edge of the bed, and he began towel-drying my soaking wet hair. "Your hair is so long, it takes forever to get it to dry," he mused. "But I wouldn't ever want you to cut it, I love it this way."

"I know, I think sometimes it would be easier to just chop it off, but I don't like short hair on me."

"Never, never, never cut it. Please, I'm begging you. Trim it if you must, but don't just hack it all off short. I think I'd cry."

I laughed. I loved it when Paul attempted to be so melodramatic. It was adorable. "I'm not going to! Will you brush it out for me, I don't like it being all tangled."

"Of course." He retrieved my hairbrush from the dresser and got busy working out the knots and tangles left in my hair courtesy of the shower. "What did you think of my note this morning, hmm? I didn't want you to think I'd left."

"I saved it, of course. Added it to the collection." I pointed to my nightstand. "I keep them all in there. All the letters."

"I keep all the ones you write to me too. They're in my nightstand too."

"What a coincidence." I smiled.

"Isn't it though? Great minds think alike, after all." Paul set the brush to the side and ran his fingers through my still-damp hair.

"My mind is nowhere near on par with yours, Paul," I said.

"I beg to differ. You're with me, aren't you? Proof you have a great mind."

"Get me my clothes and stop it!" I said with a laugh. "You are full of it, Paul McCartney. Absolutely full of it."

He winked at me. "I might be full of it, as you say, but I'm far more obsessed with you than I am with my own self." He opened my top dresser drawer and pulled out a set of undergarments and tossed them to me. "I don't think you really need to get up out of the bed much today, want to just put on one of my shirts?"

"That's fine," I said. It hurt to move my arms enough to slip into my underwear, but I managed the best I could. I pulled Paul's shirt over my head and laid back against the mound of pillows on my bed, feeling completely drained. "That took effort, let me tell you," I said.

"You could have let me help you."

"It's fine." I couldn't take my eyes off him, dressed in one of his pairs of extremely tight jeans and a plain blue shirt. I loved it when he wore the tightest jeans on the face of the earth; they just added to his excruciatingly overwhelming sex appeal. "You don't even know what you do to me, Paul, dressed like that," I said in a teasing tone. "How dare you look so sexy when I'm too weak to have sex with you?"

"You might not be too weak, but I'd rather not take that chance." He kissed me and smiled. "Just don't look at me!"

"That's impossible!"

He laid beside me and sighed. "Allie, Allie, Allie.... What am I going to do with you?"

"I don't know. Love me do?"

"You know I love you! I'll always be true... so please, please, please..."

"Love me do!" I exclaimed. I put my arms around him and kissed his cheek. "I know you love me. I love you, after all."

"As do I, of course." Paul kissed me back. "You'd best be better by Friday. I've got plans for us for Valentine's Day, remember?"

"How could I forget? Except for the fact you won't tell me what we're doing."

"I know, I want it to be a surprise! Can't you just be patient?" he said with a laugh. "It's just in a couple more days, love, I think you can wait."

"I can." What the hot shower didn't quite cure, being held in his arms did. I was relaxed, calm, and in far less pain than I had been in yesterday. "I think I'll just stay like this today, Paul."

"Like how?"

"In the bed being held by you."

"That can be arranged quite easily." He kissed me on the lips, and it was at that point that I realized, while I might be too run-down for sex, I wasn't too worn out to make out with him on the bed (next best thing, worked for me). We were caught up in a steadily-growing-intense necking session when a loud knock came from the front of the apartment. "Wonder who that could be?" Paul mused, pulling away from me to get up and check. I sighed. We would get interrupted in the middle of that.


PAUL: Just what I wanted, to be interrupted in the middle of making out with my fiancée, but I couldn't leave whoever was at the door standing there. I unlocked the door and swung it open. "George!" I exclaimed. "How are you?"

"I figured you'd be here. Can I come in?"

"Allie, it's George!" I hollered. "Can he come in?"

"Yes!" she called back. "Of course he can!"

"How's Allie?" George asked me as I shut the door. "Better? Delilah is getting there, still just lying about today. She asked me to come over and check on Allie. I take it you were over here the whole time?"

I nodded. "She needed me," I said softly. "I couldn't ignore her. Being here was more important than working on the music like I was supposed to do yesterday. I hope John didn't end up being too mad."

"He was fine with it, nothing to worry about. We're not even recording the non-movie songs till June anyway, I'd say we have time to finish." George stopped before continuing. "Don't worry about the band so much. You have a far more important individual to focus on, you know."

"I know," I said. I dropped my voice even lower. "Though Allie seems to think that I'm above taking care of her now that that the Beatles are famous."

"What? Ummm, not true! Do I need to tell her that too? I'm sure you did already."

"At least three times since yesterday."

"That girl... She needs to realize that you're always going to be here for her. I know you well enough to know that you'll never throw her to the side in favor of something else. You're hopelessly devoted to her, Paul, I know it."

"I am beyond hopelessly devoted to her. I worship the ground she walks on and would do anything on the face of the earth for her. You know that, George."

"Indeed." George sighed. "But she is better today, right? Or is she still throwing up?"

"No, she's better," I said. "You want to see her? I know she won't mind."

"If she looks presentable!"

"Allie, darling, do you look presentable? George wants to see you!" I called.

"I look as presentable as I can in my current state!" she called back. "Send him in!"

I walked to the bedroom, George right behind me. I sat back down on the bed beside her and George perched on the end of the bed, a respectful distance from Allie. "You look pretty good for someone who was violently ill yesterday," George mused. "But then again, you always look good!"

"George!" Allie exclaimed, laughing. "What would Delilah say?"

"She would laugh," he replied. "You know that, I think."

I smiled and put my arms around her. I loved having a fiancée who made even my friends tell her she was attractive (not in a way meaning they were attracted to her, but I think you know what I mean). I kissed Allie's cheek and spoke up again. "She does always look good, George, I agree with you on that one."

"Oh you two, stop flattering me!" Allie said. "Really! I look awful!"

"Dear, if Paul says you look beautiful, then you are!" George said. "You should listen to him, honestly."

Allie rolled her eyes and threw one of the pillows at George. "I do listen to him, it's just that sometimes... well, sometimes I get frustrated, that's all." She looked over at me. "What have you been telling him, Paul?"

"Nothing, really!" I exclaimed, winking at her.

"Sure. You winked at me. That means you told him something."

"He just said that you don't seem to want to listen when he tells you that, regardless of the whole Beatle thing, he's always here for you," George spoke up. "Hence why you need to listen to him, because I know for a fact that Paul will never throw you to the side in favor of the band."

"George Harrison and Paul McCartney, you two are horrible!" Allie exclaimed, but she was smiling. She laughed. "Honestly..."

"Hey, we both love you, just in different ways!" George said. "All four of us in the band want what's best for you. And what's best for you is sitting next you on the bed with his arms around your waist!"

Allie turned and looked at me and kissed my cheek. "True enough," she said quietly. "So George, how's Delilah?"

"She's a bit better," he answered. "Still sick, but better. I hated to see her throwing up so much yesterday. She looked absolutely miserable, it was killing me to know there was nothing I could do."

"Join the club, George," I said, pulling Allie closer. "Imagine how I felt."

"I can see it now, I bet you were absolutely panicking when you got over here and found Allie like that. Fortunately, all I had to do was roll over in bed the minute Delilah got sick. Definitely an advantage to living under the same roof."

"Soon and very soon for us," I replied. "In May." Allie untangled herself from my grasp and got out of the bed, a pained look on her face, and I turned my focus to her. "Are you all right?" I asked.

She shot me a knowing look. "Same thing that's been going on since the middle of the night. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"If you need me, just call me," I said, and she nodded before disappearing into the bathroom and closing the door. I sighed. "God, I would rather this be me than her," I said softly. "I hate this."

"Me too," George said. "For both her and Delilah. Vi is quite lucky she was spared. Being pregnant and having food poisoning would probably have been catastrophic."

"I can imagine." I stood from the bed and walked over to the bathroom door. "Are you okay?" I asked through the door.

"I'm fine," she replied. "Just... well, tell George he might be well advised to go on home for now. And make sure he sends my best to Delilah."

I turned to George. "Well, you heard that," I said. "In other words, she needs me and it would probably embarrass her even more if you were still around. I'll call you later, all right? Give Delilah my love, I do hope she feels better."

"I will. Take care of yours," George said. "She looks completely miserable."


ALLIE: I am completely miserable for anyone who wants to know. Doesn't help I am sore all over, and that alone is enough to make me just want to curl into a ball and stay that way for the next who knows how long. My head is pounding, I keep getting chills, and my stomach is cramping so badly that I can't even stand up straight. I'll be surprised if I ever eat anything ever again after going through this.

"You'll be all right soon enough," Paul told me once he coaxed me back into the bed late that afternoon. He brushed my hair back from my forehead. "I'm terribly sorry you ended up this sick, though. It's really bothered me to see you this way."

I shrugged. "Oh, well. It could have happened to you if you'd come out with us. I'm feeling better, just still rather achy."

"True, but you know how I get when you're sick. I literally have a heart attack."

"Oh, come on. I'm fine." I sat up and hugged him. "You've been a wonderful help though. I love having you around regardless."


PAUL: Allie went back to classes today, and I told John to come over to her apartment so we could write some material. She and I are leaving tomorrow for Valentine's Day weekend, so I want to get all we can get written finished before then.

"She was really sick, I take it," John said, whipping out a stack of blank notebook paper. "You were about to have a stroke when you called me."

"She had food poisoning, John, how sick do you think she was?" I said, slightly irritated at the way he phrased his last sentence, as if me caring for Allie was something he could laugh at and make fun of me for. "She vomited for fifteen hours straight and had an upset stomach the rest of the time. Think about when I had the gastric flu in '63 and multiple it by about ten."

"Well that's just sick." John was scribbling phrases on his paper. "No pun intended. You're positive she wasn't contagious?"

"I'd have it by now if she had been," I said, uncapping my pen. "You don't have to worry. She's fine now. We're going to Paris tomorrow, you know."

"I would say poor Ringo, you're missing his wedding, but he's the one who said it would be better if none of us attended in order to minimise the press, so never mind that one." John looked up from his notes. "What are you two going to do in Paris?"

"Oh, I don't know, it's Valentine's Day," I said, trying to hide the sarcasm in my voice. "What do you think?"

"Other than have sex like crazy people? How should I know?"

"You don't have to put it that way," I said. "We're staying at the Ritz. I can't do anything but the best for her. She doesn't even know we're going. I'm surprising her."
"Well aren't you two posh." John clearly wanted to change the subject. He always got this way when I mentioned Allie. I think he is jealous that I devote far more time to her than I do to the things he wants me to do with the band, but that's too bad. I smoke the marijuana in the studio and at his home, but I refused to let him bring it over here to her apartment, and I can really tell the thing that irks him the most is the fact I won't have sex with anyone but her. "Good for you and good for her."

"Why do you do this everytime I mention her name?" I asked. "Are you jealous?"

"Jealous? Of what? I just get sick of the fact you pour all your energy into her and what she wants. Sometimes I wonder if you have to ask her permission to even leave the house without her being glued to you."

I threw down my pen. "I'm not glued to her. We aren't together all the time, we don't even live together, for god's sake. Allie just feels more comfortable when I'm with her, that's all. It flatters me, in all honesty."

"You know, you're different from how you were even before you two got engaged. I don't know, I can't quite put my finger on it. But you are."

"You met me when I was fourteen, please. People change a lot in eight years regardless." I stood from the table and went to put the kettle on. "Tea?"

"You know, I don't think so." John gathered up his paper and rose from his chair. "I'm going to leave before this gets ugly. You abuse the press enough when they criticise her, I don't doubt that you'd treat me even worse."

"I'm not going to do anything like that," I said, tea kettle in my hand, but John didn't seem to want to listen. He dismissed me with a wave of his hand. "Let me know when you get back from France. We have to get these last two songs done before we go to the Bahamas. God knows you'll be with her every waking minute we aren't filming."


ALLIE: I came home from classes today to find Paul in the living room, a cup of tea in his hand and a pensive look on his face. I set my bags on the carpet and kissed him. "Everything okay?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Just John, as always. Angry over the fact I was here with you when you were so sick. I knew he'd get mad over that, even though he said on the phone initially he was fine with it. He won't admit he's jealous of you."

"Oh, well." I sat on the couch and put my head on his shoulder. "I don't plan on letting it get to me. So, where are we going for Valentine's Day? My one and only class was cancelled tomorrow so we could leave tonight if you wanted."

"We're going to Paris," he said. "I booked a suite at the Ritz, and of course, I have dining reservations at several places. We can just wander about and absorb the city as well. Just us, no one else. Certainly no work on these new songs, either. I'm putting the band out of my mind this weekend."

"Paris? Really?" I kissed his cheek. "I've never really been to Paris and actually seen it."

"Well, you can do that this weekend," he said. "Just you, me, and the world's most romantic city. I'm glad you're better and can enjoy it."

"Me too." I got up off the couch. "Well, what are you waiting for? Now that I know where we're going, come help me decide what to pack. I want to look nice for you as always. I can't wait for this weekend to start."