.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 26, 1969
A preliminary hearing had followed the Harrisons' house raid on March eighteenth. They had, of course, been charged with cannabis possession, and left in low spirits. Since then, they had once again been trying to stay out of the public eye. The press was thoroughly enjoying the fact that their life was being flipped upside down. They'd stood outside the entire day after the drugs squad had come, and they had been waiting outside the court on the eighteenth, waiting with their cameras to catch a glimpse of the guilty couple.
Articles of mixed reviews had appeared in papers. Some people were thrilled that yet another rockstar had been exposed as the bad influence on children that they were. Others attempted to accuse Sergeant Pilcher of being a fraud who just wanted to make people's lives hell. George and Alexandria tried to ignore these articles. They didn't want to outright agree that Pilcher was at the very least an arse, but they also wanted to maintain their innocence—and they did. They fought tooth and nail even though they knew very well how this was going to end. They were going to be found guilty. They knew that, but they weren't going down without a fight.
Today was probably only the tenth time that they were leaving the house since their preliminary hearing, and it was to attend a doctor's appointment. Alexandria was nine weeks pregnant now, and today was going to be their first attempt at hearing their baby's heartbeat. They tried not to get their hopes up because the doctor had warned that it could still be too early, but they couldn't hide the fact that they were practically shaking in excitement.
George took Alexandria out for breakfast before they went to the doctor's office, and his leg bounced up and down as he watched Alexandria fill out the forms she was given at the beginning of each visit. Her answers to the questions asked were much the same as they were every time, so she filled the papers out without giving much thought, and then they waited.
"Hell, Alex, I'm a bit nervous," George whispered. Alexandria sat the clipboard down on her legs and looped her arm through George's. She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I mean, what if they can't find anything? What if something terrible has happened?"
"Stop bein' so negative," Alexandria said, but she was definitely nervous too. "Doctor told us that it may still be too early. It's okay if we don't hear it."
George nodded, his eyes moving around the waiting room they were in. People were shooting glances their way. Of course, they were. He was George bloody Harrison, a Beatle, and apparently, he didn't deserve a private life. No, the entire world had to know all of his business.
He worried about coming to these appointments. That was why he had only been to a couple of them. He worried that the wrong person would be here and they would blab to the press about what they saw. I mean, George Harrison in a pregnancy clinic with his wife could only mean one thing—George Harrison's wife was pregnant. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together.
"Alexandria?" A nurse appeared in the doorway on the wall opposite them. Alexandria and George both shot to their feet in surprise. George kept his head tucked down as they walked across the waiting room and disappeared into the hallway behind the nurse. Alexandria handed over the forms she had filled out, and the nurse slowly led them to a room at the very end of the hallway.
The nurse asked a few questions and then left the anxious couple alone in the room, telling them that Alexandria's doctor would be around shortly.
"It's still really early," Alexandria said randomly, just to remind herself and George that they may not hear a heartbeat today. That wouldn't necessarily mean anything bad. Even so, they really hoped to hear a heartbeat today. It would be such a breath of fresh air given the past couple of weeks that they had had. Hearing their baby, knowing with one hundred percent certainty that it was okay in the aftermath of the hectic drug raid, would be a blessing.
"It's really early," George agreed quietly.
And they sat in silence. Alexandria looked around the room, her eyes lingering on a strange device on a rolling table in the corner. She didn't recognize it from any of her previous visits, and she began to wonder if that was the machine that would potentially let them hear the heartbeat of the little life inside of her. Her nerves buzzed in excitement at the very thought and she silently pleaded with the inanimate object to let her hear the heart of her baby. She prayed to the blood heavens even. She was desperate for a sure sign of life inside her womb. It meant more to her than anything.
Most of all though, she hoped that her midwife was better at navigating the machine than those idiotic police officers fidgeting with that fingerprinting device. How tragic would it be if they had to wait twenty minutes for that machine to be set up?
George looked at his wife, then followed her gaze when he saw that she was focused on something in the corner. He saw the machine then, as well. He leaned his elbow against his knee, balancing his head atop his head as he stared at it. His mind was in the same place as that of his wife. He wondered what news that machine would bring. Would it bring certainty or uncertainty? Would they leave crying tears of joy or utter frustration?
Hadley entered the room after a while. She greeted George and Alexandria pleasantly, asked Alexandria some questions about how she was feeling, and then segued the discussion into something that Alexandria hadn't been expecting. "I heard that something happened to you two," she said. "Through the news."
George and Alexandria knew exactly what she was referring to right away. George sighed, raising a hand to his forehead. Alexandria's face turned red. "Yes, something did happen," she said. Suddenly, she was worried. She looked up at her midwife and tried to be as calm as she looked. If the midwife wasn't worried, then why should she be? But, she was, and she pressed a hand against her belly, an action that was practically reflex at this point.
"And? What sort of effect has this had on you? The pregnancy?"
"Well, as you can imagine, it has been a very stressful situation," Alexandria said carefully. "I haven't noticed any changes in my—y'know—symptoms, so I've been really trying not to worry. Apparently, that's easier said than done, though."
Hadley nodded. "Have you had any bleeding? Any cramping?" Alexandria gulped, hating the very idea of that. Then, she shook her head, her voice not strong enough to even give a verbal response. Hadley could sense Alexandria's discomfort and quickly changed the subject.
"Would we like to try for a heartbeat today?" she asked.
Alexandria and George's heads both shot up at that. "Yes," they said in perfect unison.
"All right," Hadley said with a chuckle. "Glad we're in agreement, then. Now, I know I've said it several times already, but there is a chance that it still could be too early. That doesn't mean anything bad."
Alexandria and George nodded solemnly. They knew all of this already, of course, but maybe it was good that they got a reminder. It reminded them not to get their hopes up...and their hopes were certainly beginning to rise.
It only took Hadley ten minutes to get the strange machine in the corner hooked up properly, and all the while, she explained what was going to happen to Alexandria and George. A little wand on the end was going to be pressed against Alexandria's stomach. That little wand would somehow detect the baby's heartbeat through so many layers of skin...in theory. Would that really be the outcome? Alexandria had no way of knowing, and neither did George. No, all they could do was hope.
Alexandria laid back on the bed and lifted her shirt as she was told to do. George moved in closer to her, and his hands slipped into hers almost without him noticing. It was just a natural thing for him to do now. They had to remind themselves to breathe as they waited. Hadley searched and searched, and soon George and Alexandria were close to giving up hope and calling it quits. But just as soon as they had the thought, Hadley stopped moving the wand around.
The room was utterly silent, so much so that you could have heard a pin drop if you listening hard enough. All three listened, Hadley pressed a button on the machine, and suddenly, a sound filled the room. At first, George found himself wondering what it was that he was hearing, but soon, it became more than clear to him. Coming through the tiny speakers on the sides of the machine was the sound of a tiny, beating, and strong heart.
He met Alexandria's eyes, and their sudden relief turned to tears.
What a blessing.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Alexandria couldn't stop replaying the memory of hearing her baby's heartbeat for the first time. The experience had been so surreal, and it had really made things feel so much more...real. If there was any doubt in her mind about the wellness of her child, it was gone now. It was a dangerous sort of happiness, the one she was feeling presently, but it was calming. It made her a lot less stressed than she had been since the raid, and that was good. For her and the baby, that was good.
As she sipped on a cup of her caramel coffee and George sat a plate of food in front of her for dinner, she kept a steady smile on her face. George's eyes flicked over to hers twice, and he noticed the daydreamy sort of look on her face. It made him feel good on the inside knowing that she was content. He'd seen her frown too many times in recent weeks, and he'd seen too many creases form in that perfect skin of hers. A smile was long overdue.
Smiling to himself, he asked her, "Something on your mind?"
Alexandria's eyes moved over to meet his eyes and she smiled even wider. "I'm just really happy," she said. "Trying to take it all in because I'm not sure how long it'll last, you know."
"Well," George hummed, sliding into the chair next to her and fitting one of his large hands over her belly underneath the table. "Now that we know our baby is healthy, I think there will be more smiles than frowns, no matter what shite is happening in our life regarding legality."
Alexandria placed her hand over his and looked down at her stomach. "I feel so much better knowing that there's a heartbeat. Part of me was worried that something bad had happened and we didn't even know it. I feel better knowing that that's not the case."
George leaned his free elbow against the surface of their dinner table and balanced his head against his hand, staring at his wife. "Hell, Alex, I still can't believe we're doing this...havin' a baby, I mean. Can you believe it?"
Alexandria shook her head. "I thought we'd never get here," she admitted. Then, she leaned her head over and placed it against his shoulder. "I'm so glad that we did, though."
George rotated his head to place a kiss against the side of her head. "You'll be the best mum, Alex," he said. "I just know it."
Alexandria closed her eyes blissfully. All of this felt like it was too good to be true. She was unnaturally happy. Shouldn't she still be worried?
But she wasn't. She was calm and collected.
"Do you feel more confident with this pregnancy now?" George asked her.
Alexandria nodded. "I do," she answered. "I'm still a bit worried, obviously, but I'm also confident now. It feels safe to be happy, to get my hopes up."
George smiled. "Well, let's be happy then. Let's get our hopes up and enjoy every moment that we get with this baby. If, God forbid, something does happen...at least one day we can look back on these times as happy."
Out of nowhere, tears formed in Alexandria's eyes. "Christ, I hope that doesn't happen," she said, sniffling remorsefully.
George wrapped his arms around her, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach. "Shh," George hummed consolingly. "It's all right, everything's all right."
Alexandria tried to get a hold on her emotions. Then, she wrapped her arms around George, squeezing him so tight that he thought he might die. He didn't mind, though. All he cared about was how Alexandria felt. As long as she was content and comfortable, he didn't care how he felt.
After a few minutes of silence, Alexandria pulled away. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against George's lips, needing to feel him close. George placed his hands on her hips and squeezed them, causing her to sigh against his lips in approval. "My parents made this all look so easy," George mumbled. Alexandria pulled away from him.
"What do you mean?" she asked, placing her hands on his thighs, making sure he knew that she had plans for the two of them later.
"They just loved each other, popped out a few babies, and gave us such a wonderful life," he said. "There was no miscarriage, no struggle. Why can't it be the same for us, Alex?"
Alexandria placed her hands on each of his cheeks and leaned her head forward, pressing their foreheads together. "I don't know, George," she said. "I really don't."
They both paused, their chests rising and falling as they breathed in unison.
"I bet it was hard for them too," Alexandria said. "Of course, you only saw your parents getting along. I only saw mine getting along too, but there must've been arguments. Their must've been struggles." She paused. "You don't build a bond quite like theirs without it."
Alexandria's mother had loved her father until the moment that she took her very last breath, and part of her knew that her father loved her too. He'd been a right bastard after her death, but maybe that was just his sick way of grieving. She wasn't sure what he was doing now, she hadn't seen him in years because she had no desire to, but she still adored looking back on memories from her childhood.
She remembered every night that she'd crawled into Kathleen's bed while her parents sat at the foot of it, reading them stories until they were both asleep. She remembered the nights after dinner when they'd play music on the radio, or when some act would perform on television when her parents would dance together. They'd do the dishes together after dinner every single night, and talk in the kitchen while her mother made breakfast every single morning. That was what Alexandria loved to remember about her parents. The good times.
You didn't build up a beautiful relationship such as that without arguments or problems. Even now, when she visited George's family alongside him, she adored watching Louise and Harold. They were the world's perfect example of what a marriage should look like. They bickered to no end, but they loved each other more than words could describe. Alexandria and George both admired their marriage and how strong it still was after so many years. They could only hope that there was light at the end of the tunnel for them, and they prayed that the light was as clear as Harold and Louise. They prayed that someday, they'd live the peaceful life that George's parents lived. They had raised four healthy, happy children, and they continued to watch them grow, even now. Alexandria envied that. She hoped that someday, she'd be able to watch children grow just the same as Louise...and as of now, she had never felt closer to getting there.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
THURSDAY, MARCH 27, 1969
The next afternoon, Alexandria crawled into the attic. She was searching for something, but she couldn't really tell you what that something was. She just knew that she'd know it when she saw it. George had left to go and visit Eric Clapton for the afternoon, but she had opted not to go along, claiming that she was feeling queasy this morning, which she had been. She wasn't so queasy now, though...other than her nerves, of course.
She crawled around on her hands and knees, a flashlight clutched in one hand and the other helping her as she moved. She hated coming up here. She always worried that she'd come across something horrible...like mice or something, but she was determined today, and she tried not to think about all the tiny rodents who may be hiding up here because that made her feel queasy as this morning all over again.
She soon came across a couple of boxes bundled up in the corner. Well, not the corner, per se, but the corner of the part of the floor that was actually put down. There was a good chunk of the floor that was purely insulation. Walking over there would certainly garner some unpleasant consequences. Alexandria stopped and placed her flashlight on top of a box behind her so that she had two hands to comb through the boxes in front of her. All of these boxes had come from her childhood home. When Kathleen had moved out—unknowing of the fact that it had actually been George who had purchased their old house—she had kept pretty much everything in the house. The two of them had divvied up the heaps of boxes and each kept a sizable amount somewhere in each of their houses.
Alexandria opened the boxes one by one, sifting through their contents. She wasn't even sure if what she was looking for was in her house. There was a good chance that it had ended up in Kathleen's possession, but she still thought it was worth looking for. She leafed through boxes one by one, and found what she was looking for on her third try.
She grabbed her flashlight again and fumbled around in the box. A handful of leather-bound journals were hidden underneath a few blankets sewed by Alexandria's grandmother who had died before she was born. She pulled the first one out and brushed a thin layer of dust from it. She carefully opened the cover and looked at the top right corner of the first page, and in her mother's neat, readable handwriting, was her name.
Her conversation with George yesterday had got her thinking. She wondered if hidden somewhere in these journals were answers to questions she had. What sort of troubles had her parents gone through?
A part of her also remembered some words that her doctor had said to her when she had first found out about her endometriosis. Endometriosis could be passed from a mother to a daughter. One of the first things that Alexandria had been asked about was her family history. Alexandria had sheepishly told them that she had no way to find out about that; her mother had no siblings, her mother was dead, and so was her grandmother. As for her father's side, she had no contact with anyone over there anymore, hadn't for some time. Never in that time had it crossed her mind to check these damned journals. She hadn't even known they existed until she had gone with her sister to help clean out their childhood home. She was dealing with so much emotionally at the time that she wasn't even sure she could deal with reading them. So she had stuck them up here and forgotten all about them.
Until now.
She turned the pages slowly. They were brittle, a bit stiff, and she worried that if she wasn't careful, they'd rip...or just plain snap. Dust flew in all directions as she looked at each page. Her mother's handwriting was so neat, and it looked so much like her own. She found that her stomach began to churn as she scanned the pages, her palms felt a bit sweaty, and her hands shook just a little.
She looked at the dates in the corner of the pages.
29 November 1942
7 December 1942
10 December 1942
Alexandria began to read.
I cried when I started. As it goes every month, I felt that after three years of trying, it should have stopped. It didn't. We still haven't conceived.
Kathleen started school this week too. As she gets older, it feels like I'm losing time. I age every day, every year, and the more I advance in years, the more time I lose.
I talked to mum this week. She said she tried for years for me, and years after for another. Clearly, it never paid off.
I cry a lot, and James yells a lot. I can tell that he is stressed too. I feel worthless. Entirely worthless.
And that was it. Alexandria stared at the page for a long while, trying to get a grip on her thoughts. She couldn't believe what she was reading...and she couldn't believe that it hadn't taken her so long to find it. She expected to be up here for some time, looking for the answers she was seeking out, but here it was, on the very first page she read.
She went through a couple more from the month or so that followed. Each entry detailed sadness, the sadness she never envisioned her mother being buried in. Her mother had always been the happiest person she knew, even as she lay fading away on her deathbed. In fact, one of the last things she had ever said to Alexandria had been her ensuring her daughters knew that she was happy. Alexandria couldn't understand why her mother was so happy when she was dying.
Now, however, as she slowly faded into the months where she became pregnant with Alexandria, she began to understand why. She had worked so hard for her children, and she had gotten them. She got to watch them grow.
Alexandria went further back in time, far before she was ever thought of. She even stumbled across one of her mother's journals from before Kathleen was born. It seemed, Alexandria realized, that her mother had many of the same problems she had. She'd had miscarriages, more than a few, throughout the years. The only glaring difference was...she didn't know why. She detailed awful pain during her periods...and she thought it was normal.
That reminded Alexandria of something, the bloody denial that she went through before her diagnosis.
It seemed, Alexandria further realized with an uncomfortable pit of dread in her stomach, that her mother may have had the very same problem that she had.
After Alexandria had been born (nearly two months premature), her mother and father had longed for another baby, according to those journals. They had tried for years, seen countless doctors, and finally, they'd been told that it simply wasn't possible. Even without any mystery illness such as what she appeared to have, she was too old, they told her. Having a baby at her age could be potentially life-threatening.
It had broken her heart.
Alexandria still didn't understand her overt happiness.
Until she made it to the journals that were written around the time of her cancer diagnosis.
Annabelle Brown had spent the last year or so of her life coming to terms with her fate. Her last few journal entries were lengthy, and Alexandria absorbed every word. She talked about how proud she was of her daughters, and how she admired them for their strength and their bravery.
She talked about how much she loved her husband. She knew he wasn't perfect, and she made this very clear, but she loved him still. She forgave him for all his wrongs, and she pointed out all his rights.
Finally, in her very last entry, just two days before her death, she talked about how at peace she was with the concept of dying. She was in a lot of pain, and she was ready for it to be over. She was ready to surrender.
In a little postscript, she wrote directly to her daughters. She told them to be strong, she told them to be brave, and she told them to never give up on anything they wanted. She told them she loved them so much.
By the end, Alexandria was sobbing. Fully sobbing.
She wasn't sure when the tears had surfaced or when they'd begun to fall, but she knew by the end that what she had read had affected her.
She wasn't sure how long she'd been in the attic either, not until she realized that George had made it home and was now calling out her name, searching for her like hell.
He wandered down the hallways of Kinfauns, having discarded his guitar case by the front door.
"Alex?" he called out. Then, he heard something, and he followed the sound. Turning a corner, he spied the stairs of the attic pulled down, and realized that the sound was coming from up there. He hurried over to the stairs and climbed up, also realizing very quickly that those sounds he was hearing were crying.
He poked his head up and found Alexandria sitting off in the corner. "Alex, what in the hell—?"
Alexandria turned at the sound, her mother's final journal still open to its last page. "George, she had it," she said.
"What?" George asked in confusion, fumbling his way up the last stairs and sitting in the opening of the attic.
Alexandria looked back down at the book in her hand. With careful movements, she closed it and set it aside, rubbing her eyes furiously. She scooted over to George. "Sh-she had it. I know she did."
"Had what?" George asked. "Who had what?"
"Mum," Alexandria replied. "She had endometriosis too. She had all the same fuckin' symptoms that I did. She had miscarriages, George. Probably about five. It took her years to get pregnant with Kath and me. Years, George. What if it takes us years too? And the older I get...doesn't that make it harder?"
Alexandria put her hands to her face and cried. George didn't know what to do, so he just put an arm around her rather awkwardly. Alexandria drew her knees to her chest, seeming to ignore George's gesture altogether.
"I need to have this baby, George. I can't deal with years of bloody heartbreak," Alexandria sobbed.
"Alex, we're going to have this baby," George told her. "I promise."
"You don't make these sorts of decisions, George. You can't promise me. D-don't be preposterous." Alexandria's lungs tried to keep up, but as she continued to cry, her breaths became desperate heaves, and George worried that she was bloody suffocating before his eyes. It was oddly fitting since she felt like she was suffocating. She was frustrated, and aggrieved, and the feelings all felt like a bag, a bloody stubborn bag that wouldn't budge. It wouldn't move, it wouldn't give her any room to breathe. She felt like the grief would kill her if it didn't go away.
And she wasn't even sure yet what she was grieving. The life of her last child for sure, but was there something else that was ailing her? And if there was, what even was it?
"Alex, love, you've got to breathe," George said, turning his body toward her and placing his hands on her arms.
Alexandria forced herself to lift her head. He met her eyes, and he refused to let them go. "Breathe," he instructed. Alexandria drew in a broken, shuddering breath, and her exhale came in the form of another pathetic sob. Her eyes dropped from his.
"I c-can't," she said, irritated at her own lungs.
"Yes, you can," George said. "Look at me, would you?"
Alexandria looked up again. This time, she refused to look elsewhere. George drew in breaths that came so easy, and she tried to breathe with him. Slowly, she seemed to regain control of her emotions. "See? There you go," George said, giving her a smile. "How long have you been up here?" he asked when he was sure that she had harnessed control of her breathing again.
Alexandria looked around at the room, wiping her eyes with her sleeves even though they were already soaked with tears too much to do anything constructive. She shrugged. "I—I'm not actually sure," she admitted. Her breaths still came a bit shaky, but she was no longer crying, so that had to be a good thing. "Too long, I think."
"Well, how about we go downstairs? I could run you a bath?"
Alexandria shook her head. "I just wanna lay down for a bit," she said. Then, she grinned. "And I definitely want to eat some dinner later."
George grinned. "Let's rest up a bit. Then, I'll be the kindest man on the planet and take you out."
Alexandria smiled. "Will you help me bring these downstairs?" she asked. "I'm not done with 'em."
"I'll bring them all down for you. You know you aren't supposed to be carryin' heavy things around, being like you are."
"Oh, George, you don't have to do that. A few books won't do me any harm."
George shook his head. "You go and wait downstairs for me. I won't be long." He smiled at her. "And don't argue with me," he quipped. "Because you're gonna lose." He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
Alexandria's cheeks turned a bit red, and she smiled. "I love you," she whispered.
"Love you too," he answered. "Now, relocate yourself so I can get this mess of books down for you, would you?"
Alexandria swatted his arm. "They aren't a mess!" she cried. "They were my mother's!"
George leaned forward and stole a kiss from her lips. "I know," he assured her. "I was only kidding. Don't get yer knickers all in a twist, ye twit."
Alexandria swatted him again. "Don't call me that!" she grumbled.
George only smiled some more. "Go downstairs," he said. "Otherwise, I'll reconsider my offer to take you out." With no further argument, she complied.
Once at the bottom of the stairs, she turned around and put both of her fists on her hips. "You don't get to do that, by the way," she retaliated. "Not when I'm going out of my way to grow your child, all right."
"Oh, all right. You're awfully fussy, you know. I believe that baby in you is rubbing off on you."
"Oh, you are unbearable sometimes," she mumbled. "Get those damned journals down and come to cuddle with me." She wrapped her arms around herself and walked away.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.