YEAR: 1968
"Dad..." Heather whispered as she walked in.
"Oh...hi honey. How much did ye hear?"
"More than I should have," she pouted. "How long will mum be gone?"
"I don't know darling..."
***
"Maggie," my father rubbed his eyes as he opened the door.
"Can I come in?"
"Yeah," he showed me inside. "What's wrong?"
"Paul and I got into a fight...can I stay here for a while?"
"Of course,"
"I know yer tired...sorry for waking ye up. I'll go to my old room I guess,"
"Alright, goodnight."
The next morning I woke up with puffy eyes and a runny nose. I met my father and Linda at the kitchen table for breakfast.
"Morning kiddo,"
"Morning dad...what's for breakfast?"
"Omelettes,"
"What's in them?"
"Cheese, ham-"
"I don't eat meat dad,"
"That's why I made you pancakes." He set a plate down in front of me. "Do you want an apple to or y'know any other fruit,"
"No thanks dad,"
"Do you wanna talk about what happened last night?"
"Not really,"
"Maggie," Linda budded in, "please tell us,"
"Paul fell apart last night,"
"What do you mean?"
"Well...I-I was refusing to see mum and he got angry, a-and when he gets angry, I get angry. So, I stormed out of the funeral and went back to my hotel. A couple ours later, he got back to the hotel with the girls, drunk and high. Then he tried to fuck me and I wasn't having any of it so I got up and left..."
"Wow...when are you gonna go back?" Linda asked.
"I don't know..."
"Are you gonna go back?"
"Of course I am it's just...I'm mad and upset...I'll meet him back in London soon," I pouted. "Ye don't mind me staying here, right dad?"
"Stay here as long as you need."
***
"Dad, where's mum?" The girls continued asking.
"For the last time, I don't know! Now please stop asking!" Paul yelled. "Just, grab yer things...we're gonna miss our flight."
***
"Paul! Paul! Where's yer wife?"
"Mr. McCartney! Where's that stripper of yers?"
"Mr. McCartney! Paul! Please answer us!"
The reports hounded the girls and Paul with questions as soon as they stepped off the plane in London. He did his best not to make eye contact with any of them and keep the girls close. As soon as they made it out of the airport, there was a car waiting to take them home. It was difficult, but they eventually made it out.
"Do ye have all of yer belongings?" Paul asked.
"Yep," they all replied.
"Come on then,"
He opened the front door and dragged all the luggage in. They were greeted by a rather excited Martha.
"Hey Marty," he smiled.
"It's about time ye guys got back," I teased.
"Maggie..." Paul whispered.
"Mum!" They girls dropped all of their belongings and ran into my arms. "We missed ye!"
"I've been gone a day," I smiled.
"Two days," Paul corrected. "Girls, why don't ye go upstairs and unpack yer bags,"
"Okay," they shrugged.
"Heather, take Stella with ye,"
"Fine," she sighed as her sister was placed in her arms.
"What the fuck Maggie!"
"Nice to see ye too,"
"Are ye really making jokes?"
"God Paul, I thought you'd be happy to see me!"
"Ye put me and the girls through that for nothing! Fuck you!"
"Well, I'm sorry I didn't want to be around yer drunk, high, horny ass all night!" I spat.
"If ye said goodbye to yer mother like I asked ye to, we wouldn't be in this fucking mess!"
"So this is my fault?"
"Yeah, it is!"
"It's my fault ye couldn't handle yer self? I was back 'home', waiting for ye to get home with the girls and what do I see when ye walk through the door? A high, drunk low life!"
"Fuck you!" The next thing I knew, I had a stinging pain on my cheek; I fell to the floor in shock and pain. "Maggie...I-I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to-"
"Get out!"
"Maggie, please-"
"Get out!"
"Maggie!" he cried.
"If I have to say get out one more time I'm calling the police!"
"And say what? I'm the one that bought the house ye ungrateful bitch!" His sad tone quickly faded from his voice.
"I'm gonna say ye put yer hands on me," I raised a brow. "Ye know if I say that yer career is as good as dead!"
"Maggie please...I'm sorry!" he cried once more.
"If ye were sorry, ye wouldn't have blamed me and smacked me in the first place! Get out of my-"
"Mum," Heather intruded.
"Heather," I gasped.
"What's going on?"
"I thought I told ye to go upstairs," Paul mumbled.
"Ye did, but I heard a lot if yelling. Mary got scared and told me to come down to check it out. So...I did..."
"Heather...yer father and I aren't exactly happy with each other right now,"
"Are ye gonna get a divorce?" she cried. I looked to Paul and let out a sigh.
"No...no we're not..."
"Ye promise?" Heather hugged my legs.
"I promise...now please go back upstairs while we finish our discussion,"
"Okay..." She pouted and ran upstairs to her room.
"Oh Maggie, thank ye-"
"Ye lay one more hand on me without my consent, we're through. Got it?"
"But Maggie-" I glared at him with anger quickly filling my eyes. "Got it..."