My gal is red hot,
Your gal ain't doodly squat.
'George, stop it,' I protest in a whisper.
'I'm not doing anything,' he says, but he knows as well as I do, that's not true.
'Stop it now, or I'm getting up,' I say, in a firmer, sterner voice.
George draws a deep breath and rolls off me. He looks annoyed as he puts his forearm over his eyes.
I chew my lip and sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.
'Hannah,' he says softly, stroking my back. 'Come back, I'm sorry.'
'We should probably get up anyway. It's getting late.'
He removes his arm from his eyes. 'Lie down, Han. I'll be good, promise.'
I hesitate but then get back into the bed with him. There's hardly enough room in George's narrow bed. I thought my bed at the hostel was small, but this one is worse. Still, it's quite nice, having to cuddle up to him, except when he gets carried away. He said we could take things slow, but perhaps my idea of that and his are two different things.
'Just seems a shame to waste it, that's all,' he says moving closer to me.
'Waste what?'
'Having the room to ourselves,' he says, that look in his eye is back.
We stayed at the boys place last night. Both of us; Minnie with John and me with George. Minnie got up early again this morning and left. A while later, John, Paul and Pete went out for breakfast.
'I'm kiddin',' he says, but I don't think he is. 'Don't look so worried.' He kisses me again.
'I'm just not ready yet,' I say to him.
George smiles. 'That's okay.'
'We've just got back together.'
'Yeah, after about four days apart.'
'I haven't seen you in two months.'
'Yeah, but Hannah, it's fine. We can just be like we were at home, in Liverpool.'
I smile at him, doubtful, and he kisses me again, his hand tentatively caressing my side through the fabric of the t-shirt he's loaned to me.
It's not like it was in Liverpool. There's big differences. At home, we were restricted by when and where we could be together. Kisses and fumbles in bus shelters and park band stands. Here, we're sharing a bed, and we're getting undressed and it all feels a bit too much.
His hand is underneath the shirt now, feeling the fabric of the bra I'm still wearing. I shift uncomfortably and sit up. 'George.'
'Alright,' he says, sitting up himself. 'Alright, lets get dressed and go out then. Do you want to go first?' He nods towards the wash room which is over the corridor from the boys bedroom. It's filthy in there. I don't know how they can all stand using it.
'You go first,' I tell him.
George scrambles over me as he gets out of the bed, gives me one last brief kiss and disappears out of the door, taking a towel with him.
I lie down in the bed again while I wait for him. It's always cold in this room, and colder still when he's not lying next to me. I pull the blanket over me but that's not much better so I get out of bed and put my jumper on over George's t-shirt.
George is taking ages and I start to get bored. There is a small pile of tatty books on the table at the end of the room. I bend down to read the titles. The spine of one book has been ripped off so I pick it up and open it to see what it is. As I open the cover, an envelope and letter falls out. I stoop to pick it up but as I'm about to tuck it back in, the scrawled handwriting catches my eye.
I love, love, love...
I turn the envelope over. It's addressed to John. The return address says Liverpool. The loose page is a reply - John's reply - only half finished.
Dear Cyn,
I love, love, love you, Cyn! I miss, miss, miss you!
I know it's wrong to read other peoples letters but its too late. I unfold the page and read it quickly. It's mostly about what's been going on but almost every sentence is punctuated with a declaration of 'I love you, Cyn!' Unsurprisingly, there's no mention of Minnie.
'What are you doing?'
I look up guiltily. George stands in the doorway, bare chested, his towel and a shirt in his hands.
'I was just... What's this?'
He comes into the room, throws the towel and shirt onto the bed and takes letters and the book from me. 'It's nothing to do with us,' he says firmly, tucking the pages back into the book.
'Who's Cyn?'
'Do you always go snooping through people's things?' He sounds annoyed, which makes me annoyed.
'I wasn't. I was just looking at the books and it fell out. Who is John's writing to?'
'It's nothing to do with us,' he repeats. 'It's none of your business.'
'I think it is. He's here with my sister, and all the while writing love letters to someone else? Who is she?'
George stuffs the book back roughly into the pile on the table and they all fall over. He crosses the room, starts pulling clothes out of a bag, looking for something to wear.
'George?' I go to him. He turns away again, ignoring me. 'Answer me.' I reach for his arm. 'George -'
George turns back to me suddenly, grabbing my hands and holding them together in his. 'Hannah, honestly, let it go. It's between them, okay? Not us.'
'She's my sister...'
'I know, I know. But -'
'At least tell me who she is?'
He lets go of me, puts his hands on his hips and sighs. 'Cynthia,' he says eventually. 'She's John's girlfriend.'
'Since when?'
'Since... I don't know. Ages.'
'Before Minnie?'
'I don't know. Yes. Probably.'
'Does Minnie know?'
'I don't know, Hannah. Look, let it go. Okay?'
'No. I've got to tell her.'
'No good will come from that, will it? No one will thank you for it.'
'Minnie might.'
'Han, Cyn's in Liverpool, Minnie's here. What harm is it doing, really?'
I take a step back from him. 'I can't believe you've just said that to me. After what we've just been through.'
There's a twist in my stomach, even as I'm saying this. Hypocrisy, probably. Guilt, undoubtably. I haven't told George about Klaus. When Klaus kissed me, I didn't know what to do. I still don't know what to do now. I just stared at him for a few seconds and then turned on my heel and ran - actually ran - away and into the hostel, where he couldn't follow me. He didn't come to the Kaiserkeller last night.
George's mouth is a thin line. 'Please, Han. Just leave it. It's none of our business, is it? It'll only cause more upset and arguing.'
'George - '
He steps closer to me and takes my hand again, holds it to his chest. 'Please, Han. At least stay out of it for now, eh? See what happens first.'
We're not going to agree. I nod shortly, but I'm not convinced. I don't want to upset everything again, but I would be betraying Minnie, wouldn't I, if I keep quiet?
George smiles and gives me a quick kiss. He drops my hand and turns to get dressed.
I sit down on George's bed. I don't know what to do about anything. I'm dreading seeing Klaus again. He will be wondering what on Earth is going on, although he didn't come out last night. George didn't ask me much about it. I just told him it had been alright.
' - Han?' George is speaking.
'What?' I ask him, trying to push the thoughts from my mind.
'I said, you'd better get dressed, or we'll be late.'
I nod, absently.
'Han, don't stew about it, okay?' he says, pulling a jumper on over his shirt.
'Did you know? About this 'Cyn'?' I ask him, something else occurring to me.
He looks uncomfortable. 'Yes, I suppose so.'
'Does that happen a lot then? You've all got other girls back at home?'
'Not me,' he says, with a faint smile. 'You're my girl back home and out here, aren't you?' He sits down next to me and puts his arm around me again. 'Besides, you were the one out with another fella yesterday, weren't you?'
I know he's joking but it's too close to the bone. I decide to stop talking about it.
*
'Hey!' Minnie shouts, noticing Astrid and her camera pointing towards us. 'Them, not us. Take their picture. That's what we're here for!'
Astrid laughs. 'A photographer captures whatever her eye sees,' she says as she walks towards us.
'Well, capture Hannah, not me,' Minnie replies as Astrid joins us. 'I look a mess.' She smiles, but she means it. She walks away, over towards where the boys wait.
Astrid and I exchange looks. 'She's never liked her photo taken,' I tell her.
'No?' Astrid asks. 'That is a pity. She is very pretty, isn't she? You two make a nice frame together.'
I smile and give her a half shrug.
'Minnie though, she has a... uh, I don't know a word in English for it. A kind of beautiful sorrow, a longing.' Astrid lifts her camera again and takes another shot of Minnie as she stands a short distance away talking with John and Stu. 'Don't tell her,' Astrid says to me, conspiratorially.
I nod absently as we watch Minnie and the boys. I don't understand what Astrid means. Minnie isn't sad. She's fine. Living in Liverpool was enough to make you sad, but Minnie would never let it drag her down. That was her thing. What I know about John would be enough to make her sad, but right now, she's not got anything to be sad about. I wonder if Astrid meant something else, she didn't chose quite the right word.
I watch Minnie for a moment. No, she's definitely not unhappy. She's laughing like a lunatic as John tries to grab her and she's pushing him away.
'Saudade,' Astrid says, lowering her camera again. 'It is not a German word or an English one.'
I smile at her and she walks away again, towards the boys, shouting to tell them where she wants them to stand for the next set of pictures.
We're in a fairground in a park not too far from the Reeperbahn. Astrid is taking photos of the boys as a group with their instruments. She has a very professional looking camera. All the other groups will be jealous when she's developed the photos. No one else has ever had proper pictures taken. Even Pete has turned up for this, even though he's already keen to get away. George tells me he's got a girlfriend here, although girlfriend's probably not the right word as, apparently, she's married.
As Astrid arranges the band, Minnie returns to where I stand, leaning on the side of a open back truck, waiting for them.
'What's the matter?' Minnie asks, approaching me.
I shake my head at her.
'What's with the face then? Oh, you haven't fallen out with George again, have you?'
'No.'
She rolls her eyes at me, loosing interest, and comes to lean on the truck side next to me as she lights a cigarette.
'Min? Are you... and John together now then?'
'What?' she says, distracted as the cigarette refuses to ignite.
'Are you?'
She takes a long drag and blows the smoke out. 'No, he's all the way over there, isn't he?' she says, a stupid joke, deflecting. I give her a pointed look and she cocks her head. 'What does it matter to you, Han?'
'It doesn't, I was just... wondering, that's all.'
'Well, I don't know, do I? John and I... we're just having a laugh, that's all.'
We watch Astrid photographing the band in silence for a few minutes. Afterwards, they want to use the truck we're leaning on for pictures so we have to move for them.
'We're all going to Astrid's afterwards,' I tell Minnie. 'Are you coming?'
Minnie shakes her head. 'No, and you're not either. We've got something to do.'
*
I lean my elbow on the top of the piano. 'Why not? I think it would be good.'
'No,' Minnie says, obstinately. 'I'm not singing that, so just drop it.'
I cast my eyes over to Paul, sitting behind the piano, and he nods enthusiastically to show he agrees with me.
Minnie pulls her face. 'It's not the sort of music we sing, Hannah, so what would be the point?'
'That doesn't matter though, does it? And you know it. I've heard you singing it before.'
'More importantly, I can play it too,' Paul interjects. He picks out the notes on the keys.
'No,' Minnie repeats. 'We don't sing pap like that. We sing proper songs.'
'Proper songs?'
'Rock and roll, R and B. Proper songs.'
Following Astrid's photoshoot, Minnie had arranged with Paul for us to come and practice singing in the Kaiserkeller before it opened for the evening. We hit a snag not far along however, as it soon became apparent Paul didn't know almost any of the songs we'd normally sing. Since then we'd been suggesting any tune we could think of, trying to come up with some we all knew well enough. 'Dedicated To The One I Love', a single for The Shirelles last year was the offending tune currently being debated.
'I think it would suit your voice,' I tell Minnie.
'Well, I don't. Now, play something Paul, before everyone else comes back. And, by the way,' she points a finger at him, 'Not a word about this to anyone.'
Paul lifts an eyebrow. 'What? Really? Where am I supposed to say I've been all afternoon with you two girls?'
'You can say anything you want to,' Minnie says salaciously, with a grin and an exaggerated wink.
Paul grins back. 'You tryin' to get me a black eye?'
Minnie laughs.
'Could just tell them the truth,' I say.
Minnie turns to me. 'Are you kidding? You tell them lot about this and we'll never hear the end of it.'
'You told me,' Paul adds.
'You're a necessary evil,' she tells him. 'We needed music.'
Paul picks out the opening notes again.
'I don't know the words,' Minnie pouts.
'Rubbish,' I say. 'You know every song.'
'Yeah, because that would be possible.'
'You know this one.'
She looks from me to Paul. Paul plays four more notes.
'Oh, okay then, fine. I'll sing it. Once. If it gets you two off my back.'
Paul grins and plays the intro with more enthusiasm, pausing for where Minnie should come in. Minnie doesn't, she shakes her head. Paul plays it again and this time Minnie sings.
The first couple of lines are shaky, but then she finds her pace. Turning away from me and so that the pianos at her back, she sings the rest of the song, eyes closed, word perfect. And as I thought, it does suit her voice.
As the song ends and Paul finishes it with a flourish on the piano, Minnie shakes off her reverie, turning back to us.
'Lovely,' Paul says.
'Bollocks,' Minnie replies.
From the back of the room, in the darkness, someone claps. John steps out of the shadows, cigarette trapped between his teeth. George is with him.
Minnie turns at the noise and cringes.
'Very good,' John says as he approaches the stage.
'Go on then, take the piss,' Minnie says.
John hops up onto the stage. 'As if I would,' he says, feigning hurt. He takes Minnie's hand, looking into her eyes. 'It was great, love.' He kisses her. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was sincere.
I turn away and George catches my eye. He steps onto the stage as well and crosses to me. He gives a small shake of his head as he guesses what I'm thinking and kisses my forehead.
*
I had to run into Klaus again eventually. He'd not been at the photo shoot with Astrid, he was bound to show up at the club that night. However, by the time The Beatles were well into their first set, he hadn't arrived. The club had been busy every night I'd been there, but tonight it seemed fuller again. We'd not been able to stake our claim to as much space as we usually enjoyed. We had a small table, which Astrid sat at with Jurgen, trying to stop other people encroaching on it and pinching the spare chairs. As usual, Minnie wouldn't settle anywhere for more than five minutes. She'd sit with them, get up, wander about, join me where I stand, by the wall. Standing, so I can see George better, so I said, but also so I could keep my eye on the door. I'm not being ambushed this time.
As The Beatles announce their last song before their break, I see Klaus arrive. He pauses by the door, looking round for us then strides across the room when he spots us. He stops to speak to Astrid and Jurgen, but he keeps glancing at me. I give him a small smile so that I hope he'll realise I'm not offended or angry with him or anything like that.
He straightens his back and steps towards me as the band finish on stage. 'Hello,' he says, warily.
'Hi,' I reply. 'About yesterday, Klaus. I'm sorry, I should have told -'
Before I can finish the sentence, George jumps in front of me, grabs my waist and pulls me into him for a kiss. I too surprise to react, but George doesn't seem to notice. Out the corner of my eye, I see Klaus turn away, embarrassed.
George breaks away from me but keeps his hands on my hips. He has a glassy, drunken look in his eyes already and it's not that late yet. 'Drink?' he asks cheerily. I nod and he turns. Noticing Klaus, he slaps him on the shoulder and says, 'Alright, Klaus, la? Not seen you in a bit,' before heading off towards the bar.
I look at Klaus apologetically. 'I'm so sorry,' I say, lost for any further explanation.
He gives me a small shrug. 'I understand now then,' he says.
'I didn't mean to... I'm sorry, I didn't plan it.'
He shakes his head. 'Don't worry, Hannah,' he says. He turns to move away, but I catch his hand.
'Klaus, I'd... I'd like it if we could still be friends?'
He forces a smile. 'Sure,' he says, but he doesn't sound it. 'It was a misunderstanding.' He walks away, following George to the bar.
I sigh as I watch him. At the table side, Astrid catches my eye. She frowns. I go and sit next to her.
'You have fallen out with Klaus now?' she asks.
I shake my head and smile. 'No. Just a... slight misunderstanding,' I say, echoing his words.
Klaus only stays for about an hour or so. When he leaves, he goes without saying goodbye to me. I watch him across the room, speaking with John before he goes out of the door. When he's gone, I look back and George, next to me, is also watching him leave.
It's getting late anyway. The crowds in the club have thinned out a bit so there's a few more spare chairs. The Hurricanes are playing so The Beatles have a longer break. I haven't seen Minnie for a while. She was watching the band with John before, but she's not with him now as he sits down next to me. I move my chair away from him, turning my back on him in contempt. He doesn't even notice.
Everyone is rather tipsy, but not me. The alcohol makes me tired instead, and there's still another hour or two to go yet.
I try to have a conversation with George, but he's distracted. Rory and his band are particularly loud tonight, so every time I say something to George, he just shouts back, 'What? What did you say?'
I give up after a couple of tries.
George can't hear me talk, but I don't seem to have any trouble hearing John and Paul, carrying on behind me. I don't know where Minnie has gone, but John doesn't appear to be worried. He and Paul are lewdly comparing their opinions of all the women in the audience.
'What about that one?' John asks.
'Hmm, she's alright, I suppose,' Paul replies. 'Rather have that one though.'
My skin crawls as I listen to them. Is this how boys talk about women?
'Her?' John exclaims. 'Wouldn't touch that with yours, wack! Her mate though...'
Paul laughs. 'She's got a face like a horse!'
'So? You don't look at the mantlepiece when your stoking the fire, do yer?'
That's just about all I can put up with. I turn around to them. 'You two are horrible,' I tell them. Paul laughs, 'Sorry, Han -' he starts but John talks over him.
'Ah, shut up, Hannah,' he says, coarsely. 'Ain't it past your bedtime? You're such a whiney little cow. You're just a princess, ain'tcha? We all have to run around making sure you're bloody happy. That's what you are, Hannah. A whiney, spoiled, prick teasin' -'
That's as far as he gets, because before I've even thought about what I'm doing, I grab the nearest beer glass and throw it in his face.
John jumps to his feet, furious. I stand up with him, glaring at him. He is lost for words for a moment.
John moves towards me but George steps in between us. He leans forward, speaking in his ear. I can't hear him over the music.
Paul, Astrid and Stu stare at us, speechless. I glance around at them, then losing my nerve, turn on my heels and run for the door.