Wildfire ~ George Harrison

Chapter 15: Canapés and courtships

On Friday afternoon, the day after my talk with Matthew, a letter was waiting for me. Two post stamps with a picture from a middle aged guy, probably the Swedish monarch, were stamped by the British border. I knew even before I turned around to peak at the return address that it was from George. If it wasn't for the fact that I didn't know anyone else in Sweden, it was because I already knew George's handwriting by heart.

I was getting an expert at it and if people ever needed a specialist to identify his handwriting, I would be there girl. If this band thing of theirs would stick around for a little longer, I might even be able to make a living out of it.

When I opened the envelope, a postcard and a letter fell out. The postcard was from a hotel in Stockholm, signed by John and addressed to Kath. Now that was something. Though I really wanted to read it, I forced myself to put the card down on the coffee table in the lounge for Kathleen.

What was going on with those two? I knew they had slept together once since she had told me so, but there must've been more going on. If there wasn't then why on earth was he sending her a postcard? It just didn't make any sense. And whatever it was, George knew about it now too, or he wouldn't have sent the letter with it.

Everything in me wanted to open the letter straight away. It was what I always did when I got a handwritten letter from him. Only this time I forced myself to make myself a cup of tea and take of my shoes first. I wanted to enjoy this letter, whatever was in it and thus I needed to put my feet up and drink a nice cuppa whilst reading it.

It started so different from any other letter he'd ever written me, but the good kind, nothing like the piece of paper he'd left for me before getting on a flight to Sweden.

Lots of lovely Lottie,

Sweden is indescribable. It's absolutely brilliant. But it doesn't have you. I can't wait to get back to London to see you again. We can explore London and you can show me more of that city of yours. We can spend all the time together that I'm home.

He went on some more about the Swedish fans and how different they were to the British fans. Apparently the girls weren't scared of lifting their blouses up and showing the guys their body at the most inappropriate times. Even though it was clear he tried to sound disapprovingly in his letter, I had a suspicion he was eating it all up.

This was the first time in nearly a year since the band had played outside of the UK and they were enjoying every second of it. They hadn't realised it yet, but they were on the cusp of something much bigger than anyone would've ever expected. Britain was in disarray that their new favourite band had left and they were desperate for their return.

As was I. I had been left confused and cross by George's lack of a letter at the beginning of this week, but now that he had sent me this one, I couldn't wait for him to return. Surely this meant we would be going somewhere? Surely we were finally moving forward to a relationship? It was something, however, I couldn't be sure about until I saw him again.

I was surprised how much his absence upset me. Where the feeling had been alien to me a month ago, when he had gone to America, it was now a known feeling. But it was so much stronger this time around. It was a good thing my work was done for the week because I was sure I wouldn't be able to focus on anything else. All that my mind was doing, was screaming my head off about George. Whatever I was doing, I seemed to link it to George.

It was a feeling so foreign to me. I had never felt or thought this way about anyone before, let alone a boy I'd known for two months. I'd seen it happen with my friends, especially with Kathleen who seemed to have a new guy to run after every other week, but it wasn't something I did. Up until this boy next door, there had never been anyone that had caught my eye, period. Let alone made me long for him when he was on the continent.