All I got to do is to love you,
All I got to be is, be happy,
All it's got to take is some warmth to make it,
Blow Away, Blow Away, Blow Away.
Too soon, daylight invades through my thin bedroom curtains. I feel like I haven't slept at all. I have been lying here, unwilling to miss a moment of just being with George, enjoying the feel of his skin on mine, watching him sleep beside me.
George stirs and turns onto his back, pushing the bedclothes down, uncovering his chest. He looks beautiful when he is asleep. His hair is quite long now, fringe falling into his eyes. It's also rather mussed up at the moment. They've usually all got such well combed mop tops, it looks funny. I want to touch it, but I don't want to wake him.
Am I going to do this? I wonder as I watch him. Can I do this? Leave Ricky for George. And on our wedding day, of all days I could choose. What about the filming for the show? How much money has already been spent on this wedding? They're all counting on me; the producers, the director, the crew... The girls, Maurice, Ricky.
Ricky.
Could I really let them all down? If I leave, if I go with George, that will be the end of The Raindrops. It would be for me, at least. Maurice would fire me, undoubtedly.
I know what I want to do, but... but it's going to cause so much trouble and grief. It's going to be horrible. I can barely believe this is happening. I can't believe George is here, with me, like this. It seems surreal. It seems impossible...
I reach out to him and trail my fingers lazily across his torso. He flinches, slightly ticklish and laughs softly before opening his eyes.
'Mornin', love,' he says, sleepily, a warm smile on his lips.
'Hi,' I reply.
He moves on to his side, propping himself up on one elbow. 'How are you feeling?'
'Fine.'
It's absurd. We speak like we're meeting at a cafe for a cup of tea, not naked in bed together, contemplating ruining the lives of everyone around me.
He shifts suddenly so that he's above me, leaning over to kiss me. He gives me a soft, lingering kiss. I don't feel like I'm responding to him properly, although he doesn't seem to notice. I'm still surprised by his directness. I'm not used to George being like this with me. I'm not used to anyone being like this.
It was so nice to spend the night next to him again, his arm around me protectively, my head on his chest, listening to his rhythmic breathing as he slept. Ricky isn't one for lying in bed together. As soon as he wakes, he gets up.
I feel a twist of guilt as I think about Ricky. He doesn't deserve this. I picture him waiting for me at the church. He wouldn't be there yet, but he will be soon. What will he think if I don't arrive? He'd be angry, he'd be hurt. Humiliated. If we were a normal couple, it would be bad enough, but we're not. Our entire relationship has been conducted in a very public arena. He proposed to me on national TV. The wedding will be filmed and form part of the first episode of the new season. There will be newspapers and radio stations covering today. If I leave him - literally, at the alter - the carnage wreaked will be monumental.
Last night it felt like George and I could have been the only two people in the world. The morning light reminds me very clearly that we're not.
George smooths his hand around my waist, pulling me into him as he kisses me again, oblivious to the thoughts running through my head.
This might not be good for him either. It would be the scandal of the century. I haven't ever met his manager, Brian Epstein, but I've heard a lot about him; enough to know he wouldn't be happy. From what I've gathered, he didn't want John's marriage to be public knowledge, worried about what impact it would have on the groups popularity with the fans. I can't imagine what effect my relationship with George would have. It would be impossible to keep him out of it. It couldn't be good for their image - one of the Beatles being responsible for me leaving Ricky like this. If the media seized upon it, it could effect their album sales, their fans might not like it, and they're only just growing in the US and the rest of the world.
Surely then, we can't do this.
'What time is it?' George asks. He leans over me awkwardly, trying to reach his watch from the bedroom floor where he discarded it last night. I lie still beneath him. Very aware of the proximity of his body, I gingerly put my hand on his side.
He looks at his watch. 'Bloody hell, it's not seven yet,' he says, affably, falling onto his back next to me. 'We've only been asleep for about three hours. Are you tired?'
I shake my head. I'm not tired. Any tiredness has been obliterated by the adrenaline running through my veins. I'm trembling and my heart pounds in my chest.
'Me neither.' He leans over to kiss me again, as his words only just register with me.
'Wait, what time is it?' I say, getting my hands up between us, pressing them against his chest to hold him back from me.
'Just after half six,' he replies.
'Minnie should be back by now,' I say, wondering if she is. I glance at the bedroom door, listening for any sounds that would tell me if she was home yet.
'She was at the party last night,' George says. 'She'll have probably stayed with John.'
'Yes, but -' I stop. I was going to say she promised she'd be back, so she could help me get ready for the wedding. I can't say that to George. I look at my wedding dress, where it waits for me, hanging on the wardrobe door. Am I still going to wear it?
George runs his hand down my side and gently pushes his hips against me. He moves to kiss me, but I turn my head away so he kisses my neck instead. I have to close my eyes, because it does feel nice, the softness of his lips on my skin. It sends small shivers through me. I could close my eyes and not think about anything but him and what he does to me, how he can make me feel... but -
'George, I've got to get up,' I mumble.
George pauses. 'Yeah, I know,' he says. 'We've a plane to catch later this morning. I am going to be in so much trouble. Brian will murder me.' I stare at him for a moment, not understanding what he's talking about, until I realise he will have disappeared from his hotel last night. He's right. His manager might have even reported him missing to the police by now.
'Perhaps you should call someone?'
'Yeah, yeah, I should,' George says, but returns to kissing my shoulder instead, working down my collarbone. His hand goes to my breast and I shift uncomfortably, trying to sit up beneath him. George moves back so I can. I rest my weight on my elbows and offer him a weak smile.
'They might be worried.'
'Well, it's not like they couldn't guess where I went.'
'You told them you were coming here?' I ask, shocked.
George ignores the question. 'We might as well enjoy a little stay of execution first.' He moves against me again, making his intentions clear, but I shuffle over in the bed, close to the edge.
George looks at me questioningly. 'I can't...' I say weakly. 'I'm late. I've got to get ready...'
'Ready for what?' he says, and genuinely doesn't seem to know what I'm talking about.
I open my mouth but before I can reply, the front door of the apartment slams to, heralding the arrival of Minnie. George stares at me. His expression changes as the realisation dawns on him.
'Hannah!' Minnie shouts, somewhere near my bedroom door. I flinch. 'Are you up yet? Sorry I'm late. I've just got to get a shower and then I'll help you get dressed.' She's walking away as she says this.
George gives me a small shake of his head. He moves on to his side, pulling the covers up. He reaches for me, wrapping his arm around my side, drawing me into him, trying to kiss me. I pull back.
'It's Minnie,' I whisper. 'She's here to... The wedding...'
'It's okay...' he tells me, his deep brown eyes studying me. 'I won't go home today. I'll stay with you. We'll tell them all, together.'
'No, no. I can't...' I extract myself from his arms and clamber out of the bed. I grab my dressing gown from the bedroom floor, suddenly acutely aware of my nakedness. I feel ashamed. How could I do this? How could I do this to Ricky? I turn back to George, lying in my bed. Before I fully know what I'm saying, I blurt, 'George, you've got to go.'
I see his face fall and now I feel terrible for doing this to him too. 'What?' he asks softly.
'It's my wedding day. She can't... they can't find you here. You've got to go. Down the fire escape -' I yank the curtain open and throw up the sash window. The glass rattles violently in the frame.
George scrambles to a sitting up position. The bed covers fall off him. He's still naked underneath, a reminder of what I've just done. Guilt is a knot in my stomach.
'You've got to be kiddin'? You're not-'
'Hannah?' Minnie calls, her voice louder now, just on the other side of the bedroom door. 'Did you hear me?'
'Yes,' I shout back, forcing my voice to sound light, cheerful. 'Just a minute.' I plead with George with my eyes.
He shakes his head. 'You're not still going to marry him?' His voice is full of hurt.
'Please, don't make this any more difficult than it is already...'
'But... last night...'
I turn away from him. I can't bear to meet his eyes. 'You said yourself, it was... unfinished business.'
'I didn't mean just that. I meant -' He climbs out of the bed and stands in front of me, taking hold of both my arms, forcing me to look at him. 'I meant I want to be with you, Hannah. The two of us, together.' Somewhere in the flat, water starts running. 'Come back to England with me.'
'I can't, Georgie.'
'Hannah, don't... Don't you do this.' His voice gets louder, firmer. 'You said you wanted me. You said you weren't going to marry him.'
'I didn't say that. You said that...' I sound childish. I can't look him in the eye. 'We've got the TV show and Ricky's counting on me...'
'Fuck the TV show, and fuck Ricky. I love you, Hannah.'
'You don't, not really...'
He's taken aback. 'I think I would know.'
I pull myself away from him. 'You can't love me, George... We don't even know each other anymore. I haven't seen you in years, except for a handful of days. And half of that time you've acted like you hated me...'
'Only because I couldn't be with you.' His voice rises. 'I've explained this. I couldn't stand to see you with him. Han, I was in love with you before, in Liverpool, in Hamburg. I'm still in love with you now.'
'You weren't in love with me...'
'I was!' he cries, and I worry Minnie might hear. The shower is still running. I hope she's in it.
I shake my head at him. 'You're not remembering how it was. We were... we were just kids. I used to write you stupid long love letters and you'd reply with what the weather was like. When I got to Hamburg, you were kissing someone else. All we did was fight, and by the end you were fed up with me -'
'No -'
'Yes, George. Whatever we had then it was... it was nothing. It was just puppy love.'
'And last night, was that nothing? Or was it just some kinda last fling?'
I swallow. 'I don't know... I... We're attracted to each other, but it was... just sex.'
George blinks at me, silent for a moment. When he speaks again, his voice is low, even, but he's struggling to control it. 'It nearly killed me when I had to leave you in Hamburg. I wanted you to come home with me, it was you who refused to...' He stops. I will never forget the look on his face. 'And you're refusing to come home with me now too, aren't you?' he asks quietly.
'I'm sorry...' I say.
He turns away from me. 'No, right. Fine then. So long as we all know where we stand.' He scoops his shirt up from the floor and fights to put his arm through the sleeve.
'Hannah?' Minnie, outside the door. The door handle turns, but the door doesn't budge. I silently thank God that I thought to bolt it shut last night.
George finds his trousers and pulls them on in one fluid movement. He looks around for the rest of his clothes, not taking much care to be quiet about it. 'Hannah?' Minnie asks again from the other side of the door.
'Hang on, Min.' I turned to George, lowering my voice, 'I'm sorry. I don't mean to...'
'No, don't worry, Hannah. No need to fuckin' apologise,' he snaps angrily, as he balances on one foot, trying to pull his boot on. 'You're right. It was just a shag. Lets just fuckin' forget about it, eh?'
He straightens up. For a moment, I think he is going to go to the bedroom door, unlock it and reveal everything. He must see it in my face because he just shakes his head, his face a picture of anger. He turns towards the open window and nimbly steps over the sill and onto the fire escape outside. It shakes noisily when he puts his weight on it. He hesitates, turning back to me.
'Hannah,' he says, not angry now, just pleading. He swallows. 'Please don't do this. Please don't punish me just because... I know I fucked this up before but think about what you're doing. Think about it for two minutes. Don't marry him.'
Tears spring to my eyes. I can't speak.
'Don't... Don't punish us, just because you're angry with me about a fucking trivial party a month ago.'
'I'm not, it's not about that.'
'I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't... I shouldn't have ever let you go, but Han, if you marry Ricky today then... Just don't, baby, please. You shouldn't be with him. You should be with me.'
'George, I'm sorry. It's too late. I can't...'
'Did you ever care about me, Hannah?' he asks, helpless.
'Yes,' I tell him sadly. 'I did. I do. I...' I hesitate. I don't know what to say.
'Yeah, I know. You'll never forget me. You'll always have feelings for me. You've said it all before. Don't bother. You don't have to lie.' He purses his lips and looks down at the black metal staircase beneath him. It's only a short journey down.
'I'm not lying...'
'Hannah?' Minnie asks from the other side of the door again. Her voice sounds strange.
'I fucking hope to God I forget about you, Hannah,' George says, just before he climbs down the steps.
I turn away from the window, wiping at my eyes furiously as I cross the room to open the door for Minnie. She waits on the other side of it wearing a white towelling dressing gown, another towel wrapped around her hair. There is two champagne glasses in her hands and a suspicious look on her face.
'Take your time then,' she says, annoyed. She peers cautiously around the doorframe. 'You wouldn't happen to have a certain Beatle in here would you?'
Panic grips me. 'What?! No.'
'Hmm. Just wondering. George disappeared at some point last night. We thought he might have come here.'
'Well, no. He didn't.'
'Sure about that?'
'Of course I am. And who's 'we'?'
She hands one of the glasses to me as she comes into the room, looking around. I see her notice my nightdress on the floor. She looks at it for just a beat too long. 'That's a pity,' she says quietly, almost inaudibly. I choose to ignore it.
I drink from the glass she's given me. It has a sharp taste and it's far too bubbly, but I swallow nearly all of it in one go.
'Hey, take it easy with that,' she says taking the glass from me again and setting it down on the dressing table. 'It's going to be a long day. You should pace yourself, our kid.'
Our kid. She's not called me that in years. It makes me think of home. Liverpool.
'Have you been crying?' she asks suddenly.
'No,' I mumble, not looking at her.
'Hannah...'
'It's nothing, just... It's all a bit overwhelming...'
She smiles sympathetically at me, but it grows into a grin. 'I've got something for you,' she says, excitedly. Despite what she's just told me, she downs the entire contents of her glass, puts it on the dressing table and disappears out of the door.
I cross and sit down on the bed, looking at the pillow where George was sleeping only a short time ago.
I don't think I've ever felt more sad, more lonely. I feel like I'm that seventeen year old girl again, sitting on the steps of the Hamburg train station, crying my eyes out because George had left.
Minnie returns, a small white paper bag in her hands. 'Here,' she says, giving it to me. 'I didn't have time to wrap it. Or the inclination.'
I force a smile and open the bag. There's a small blue velour covered box inside. I take it out and open it. It's a necklace, a blue teardrop shaped pendant on a silver chain. 'Oh,' I say, not in the mood for gifts. 'Thanks, it's lovely.'
She sits down on the bed next to me. 'Don't you recognise it?'
I look at her, frowning. She sweeps her hair back, over her shoulders. She's wearing an identical necklace.
'Is that... Are they Grandma Minnie's sapphire earrings?' I reach for her necklace, feeling the weight of the pendant in my fingers.
Minnie giggles. 'Yeah, I had them changed into two necklaces, one for each of us. The earrings were so old fashioned and heavy.'
I take my own necklace out of the box, pulling the chain through. 'I didn't know you kept these.' I look at her. 'You've had them all this time? Why didn't you tell me?'
'I was saving them for a special occasion.' She grins widely. 'And I guess, this is it.'
I turn the necklace over in my hand. On the back of the pendant there's a small engraving. Bringing it closer so I can read it, it's my initials - H. J. in elaborate serif script.
'This will be H. W. by the end of the day,' I tell her with a sigh.
'Well, that's what I got it for,' she says. 'To remind you that, no matter what you sign on your cheque book, you're still Hannah James. You're still your own person. That you don't need a man to buy you jewellery. You can buy your own if you want it. Just because you're marrying him, Ricky doesn't own you.'
I smile at her.
'Because I own you,' she adds and I laugh. 'Seriously, though, Han. You're not signing yourself over to him today. Don't be like all the other women in our family. Don't make your life all about him. Make sure you always have your own money, your own interests. Every time you look at this necklace, you remember that.'
'Who'd have thought you were so sentimental, Min?'
'And if things ever get that bad, you can always hock it for a few quid.'
I laugh at her and shake my head. 'I'd never do that.'
'Plus, look, it's your something old - because it was an old pair of earrings, something new, because it's a new necklace now, and something blue, for the sapphire. Now you just need something borrowed.'
I look at it for a moment, then I hold it out to her. 'Here,' I tell her. 'You wear mine and I'll wear yours instead. Then it's my something borrowed as well.'
Minnie smiles. She unfastens her own necklace and puts it around my neck instead. I turn the pendant over in my fingers. There is M. M. J. engraved on the reverse of it.
'What's it look like?' I ask her, lifting my head so she can see my neck.
'Gorgeous,' she answers, clipping my necklace around her neck. She smiles at me, then gives a quiet sigh. 'I do love you, you know, Hannah. I know I don't say it very often, but I do.'
'I love you too, Minnie,' I tell her.
Minnie takes a deep breath and shakes it off. 'Enough of this soppy nonsense anyway,' she says, standing up, heading towards the door. 'You'd better start getting ready. Cat and Bet will be here any minute.'
*
It's funny to say, but I can hardly remember the rest of my wedding day, and perhaps not just because of the incessant glasses of wine and champagne that people kept pressing into my hand. The day passed in a blur.
Bet and Cat arrive at the apartment and we all get dressed together. Cat can't stop tearing up. I look a fright in my enormous wedding dress. The zip on it breaks and won't fasten and Bet has to sew it together. She does quite a good job of it. No one would tell. I might never get the damn thing off again though.
Minnie, Bet and Cat all wear matching royal blue long dresses with thin straps and straight necklines. They look significantly more stylish than I do. I wanted Sarah, Minnie's friend who gave us somewhere to stay when we first came to the US to be a bridesmaid too, but the TV people insisted it could only be the three other Raindrops.
A white limo decked out with ribbons collects us and takes us to the church. We get out of it and promptly have to get back in, drive around the block and get out all over again because they weren't filming it the first time.
Ricky wears a powder blue suit with black velvet collar and a white pintuck shirt. He's waiting for me at the top of the aisle. He looks uncharacteristically nervous. I might go as far as saying he looks sick. I've never seen him like that before, he's usually so sure of himself, so confident. Maurice is the best man, and despite telling me before that he didn't get on with them, Ricky's three cousins, Gianni, Luca and Marco are all groomsmen.
Maurice grabs Ricky's shoulder in a half pat, half hug gesture when I walk into the church. Ricky turns to face me and smiles warmly. I smile back to him, certain that he's going to see the guilt written all over my face.
Ricky's mother isn't here, disapproving to the last. I think this hurts Ricky more than he lets on. His Uncle Sal is here, but it's not the same.
All day, I can't stop thinking of George. My mind wanders and I keep picturing his face, hurt, angry, disbelieving. Pulling my wedding dress on, stepping into the car waiting to take me to the chapel, standing at the top of the aisle with Minnie, Bet and Cat beside me, and all the time, I am looking for George. Thinking, hoping, he might appear - half convinced that he would, just as I had been back in Hamburg, when he was leaving for Liverpool.
The ceremony is over almost as soon as it starts. This is the only part they don't actually film for TV, and it's only at this point that it actually feels real. The rest, I could kid myself, was all for the show, but as I look at Ricky and tell him, 'I do,' it feels real. Very real indeed.
As we step out of the chapel, man and wife, arm in arm, people throw multi coloured confetti over us and camera bulbs flash. I look back over my shoulder, searching for Minnie. She's a couple of steps behind me, her arms tangled in the train of my ridiculous bridal gown.
Overhead a plane flies towards the east. I stare up at it, putting my hand over my eyes against the bright sun. I can't help but wonder if that plane contains my George, taking him back to England once again.