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Chapter 24
November 9, 1961
I couldn't believe that Mr. Epstein had decided to drag me along to the Cavern to see the Beatles. When the record came in for the boy that ordered it, me and Mr. Epstein listened to it. He loved it and wanted to see what all the fuss about the Beatles was. So, here I stand, my palms sweaty and a million things running through my mind. It had been two years since I had set foot in the Cavern, the last time being with John of course. That was back when he fit in my poems like a perfect rhyme, back when I thought I wanted to marry and spend the rest of my life with him, and back when he was the John that I loved. It was before we even knew of Hamburg and the way it would ruin him and our beautiful romance. I knew I would see him tonight. After all, Mr. Epstein wanted me to introduce them if he liked their style. I knew that Mr. Epstein was big in the Liverpool music scene, but I didn't know that he was a manager looking for new talent.
"Sasha," he said, walking up to me on Matthew Street, "I'm glad you could make it."
I smiled at him, "I talked to Paul, my brother, this morning. They're eager to meet you."
I had apologized to Paul for the way I had acted earlier in the year a couple of months ago, and we had become close again. I was glad since now I had someone to talk to you on account of Stuart being in Germany.
"Good. I hope they're as good as everyone says."
I followed Mr. Epstein into the entrance of the Cavern. The bouncers recognized him and we didn't have to queue. The cobblestone street being traded for slick cement as we made our way to the stairs. Down we climbed to get to the underground club. The lights and noise were blinding. Couples and singles were dancing in front of the stage with drinks in hand to another band. Mr. Epstein chose a table in the back so we had a pretty good view of the stage.
It seemed like ages before the disc jockey finally announced the Beatles to the stage, and he also announced Mr. Epstein's presence at the club. The now four piece band took their places on the tiny stage. Pete was in the back at the drum kit. I noticed that he didn't have the same hairstyle as the other boys, the one that Stu had gotten first. George was to the far left of the stage, Paul in the middle, with a bass guitar now, and finally, John was on the far right. He took my breath away. I had to admit that he looked quite handsome with the new hairstyle. I hadn't been this close to him, face-to-face, since Hamburg, and I wasn't quite sure how to feel about it. All I knew was that I missed him.
They began to play their set, the crowd rocking to their sound. They had gotten better since I last heard them. It seemed like they finally had their style. I couldn't keep my eyes off of John. I missed him. I wished that I was here as his fiancé or even wife cheering him on. After the show, I wished I could greet him with a kiss like I used to, and then we could head back to a bedroom at our house, and he could make sweet love to me.
I shook my head to get that thought out of mind. I couldn't do this. I couldn't think about what could be. It was over. We were over. If he wanted me back, he would've come and apologized by now. Nothing would ever be the same between us.
I suddenly felt hot and crowded, "Mr. Epstein, would you like something to drink?"
He looked at me and shouted over the music, "I'll have scotch and coke."
I walked away, not letting my eyes leave John on stage. I didn't know what I would do if he returned the stare. I ordered the same thing as Mr. Epstein to give it a try.
The bartender recognized me from the gigs I used to do, "Sasha McCartney! I haven't seen you around here in ages! You still play music?"
"No, actually, I don't do that anymore," I replied. I really didn't want to talk about this.
He frowned, "It's a shame. I thought you were really talented. I suppose you're not with that fellow in this band anymore."
That hurt, "No."
I grabbed my drinks and didn't say anything to him as he told me to have a good night. That was the first time anyone else other than close friends has asked me about John, and considering it was a little over a year since our messy break up, it hurt more than I think it should have.
I sat down with our drinks and prayed for the show to be over soon, but then I would have to be inches away from John. I didn't know if I could handle it.
When the boys were done, I led Mr. Epstein backstage to meet the Beatles. When we walked into the room, John kept his back to me. Paul must have warned him that I was coming. Paul turned and ran to give me a tight embrace.
"Everything will be okay. Just look at me," he whispered before pulling away.
Paul made the boys line up to face me and Mr. Epstein. I kept my eyes locked on Paul, but I could feel John's eyes tearing into me as soon as he turned around. I knew he wanted me to look at him, but I wasn't going to do it.
George smiled, confidently saying, "And what brings Mr. Epstein here?"
I kept my eyes on Paul, "Boys, this is my manager at NEMS Record store, Mr. Brian Epstein. He's interested in managing your band," I turned to Mr. Epstein, "This is my brother Paul McCartney."
I was doing well so far, but now for the difficult part. I took a deep breath, "This is John Lennon," I looked at the floor as I introduced him.
He stuck his hand out to shake Mr. Epstein's hand. I instinctively flinched when his hand came so close to me. He dropped it to his side again.
I continued to introduce the other two, "This is George Harrison and Pete Best."
"Well, it's certainly nice to meet you all," Mr. Epstein said, "I am truly struck by your talent and personal charm. We will need to set up a meeting if you are interested in me being your manager. I believe I could get the recognition this band deserves."
"It sounds great," John spoke, and his voice sent shivers down my spine, "We can meet day after tomorrow."
"Perfect," Mr. Epstein replied, "Sasha, thanks for introducing me to the band. I'll see you at work tomorrow."
Mr. Epstein went on his way. I looked up to find young George staring at me, and I still felt John's eyes on me as well. George was always the youngest, and the member that I never got really close to, mainly because I was with John and Stu most of the time. His staring made me uncomfortable, so I began to look around awkwardly.
Within a split second, my eyes jerked the wrong way and locked with John's. My whole world stopped. His eyes were pleading, and mine probably looked afraid. I couldn't believe that I was inches from John, looking in to those hazel eyes with tiny specs of green. They weren't the cold eyes that I left in Hamburg. They were the eyes of my John, soft and pleading.
I felt tears surface and choked as I tried to speak. I clamped my hand over my mouth and ran from the boys to the stairs to get out of here.
"Sasha!" I heard John call my name. His voice sounded good saying my name, and I had missed it, but I just had to run.
I got outside in the cold air. My breathing was heavy, and my heart was racing. A hand grabbed my shoulder. I jumped and turned around to face Paul.
"You scared me. I thought you were him," tears were streaming down my face.
He brought me into a hug, "It's just me. You're okay," he pulled back from our hug and searched my eyes, "Sasha, please move on from him. Don't let it hurt anymore."
I was confused, and when I didn't answer he spoke again, "He's moved on, and you should too."
"What do you mean?" I choked out through the tears.
Paul looked sorry, "He's got a girlfriend, Sasha."
I couldn't feel a thing.
December 12, 1961
I sat on the edge of Paul's bed as he tied his tie. Mr. Epstein was having a party at his house tonight to celebrate the fact that two days go, the band agreed to be managed by him. I stared into space just thinking about lyrics I was stuck on. I had kept my promise to Stu, and starting writing songs again. They had flowed out of me when I started again. All the emotions and events that had happened since I had last written. Stu was right, it did help.
"Please come tonight Sasha," I heard Paul say, pulling me out of my trance.
"No, John will be there," I said shaking my head, "I don't belong there anyway."
Paul sat down next to me, "Sasha, John has a new girlfriend. She'll be there, and he probably won't even notice you there."
That hurt my feelings more than it should have, "I just don't want to see him. It'll bring back too many memories. Good and bad," I told him standing up and walking to the window.
Paul stood too, "Sasha, you're being silly. You can stay by my side the entire night. You don't even have to look at John. Dot won't be able to make it, so you can be my date."
"No Paul," I said turning and facing him.
Paul sighed, "Sasha, The Beatles just got a manager. We're going to be famous, and my sister doesn't even care."
"I care."
Paul gave me a look, "It would mean the world to me if you would come to this party. Celebrate with me, this is a big deal. Maybe Brian will sign you as well if we tell him about the real you."
I didn't say anything, I just sat down on his bed again.
"Sasha, you were so good," Paul said, bringing me out of my thoughts, "Your songs were amazing."
"I just don't think I should go," I said.
"Please come to this party, and be proud of your little brother," Paul said kneeling down in front of me, "You're already dressed too. Please, please, please."
Paul made his already puppy dog eyes look even more like puppy eyes with his pleading. He stuck his bottom lip out in a pout and clasped his hands together to beg me.
I laughed and rolled my eyes, "Alright, just never do that dopey face ever again."
"Promise," he said jumping to his feet, "Come on."
I grabbed my sweater and purse and followed Paul out the door and down the familiar streets of Liverpool. We walked up to the front door of a big white house with the boom of music echoing through the walls and drifting through the nighttime air. I followed Paul inside and through the hordes of people mingling, eating, and drinking. 'Roll Over Beethoven' by Chuck Berry was playing loudly throughout the house.
Paul got me a drink and stood with me whilst different people walked by and briefly mingled with him. I looked around at everyone. My gaze stopped on John, who was nuzzling against some blonde in the corner like he used to do with me at parties. I needed to get over him. Why couldn't I get over him?
"Do you remember George?" Paul said, directing my attention back to him.
"Of course I do," I sipped some of my mulled wine. I felt uncomfortable at the party, like everyone was reading me like an open book.
Paul spun me around so my body was facing his, and he leaned closer, "He fancies you a bit. I told him you were going to be here, and he said he was going to ask you to dance."
I groaned, "Paul, I can't dance with George."
"He's just a kid. Be nice," Paul said, "and besides, you need to stop thinking about John and have some fun. You and George could have a great time."
"I'm not sure I can do it," I said.
"Just do it for me," he gulped the last of his drink and chuckled, "It'll make little Georgie's night."
As if on cue, George walked up to us. He was so much taller than I remember, and his hair was longer than the other boys and brushed past his bushy eyebrows, "Hello, Paul."
"How are ya, George?" Paul asked, "Swinging party, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it's gear. I can't believe it's for us," George looked to me, "You alright, Sasha?"
I smiled at him, "Yeah, George. You?"
"I'm great. I'm going to be famous," he laughed. His laugh was big and kind of cute. God, Sasha, stop!
A few moments of awkward silence passed before George asked the dreaded question, "You don't have to, but I was wondering if you'd like to dance?"
I looked at Paul, who encouraged me with his eyes, "I'd love to dance with you, George."
George took my hand and led me to the center of the room. 'I Can't Help Falling in Love' by Elvis Presley began playing. George pulled me closer by putting his arms around my waist. I followed suit and put my arms around his neck. I looked into his gorgeous chocolate eyes while we slowed danced. Our bodies were touching, and something happened deep within me. It was a feeling that I hadn't felt in a long time. It had been so long since I'd had this feeling, that it was almost foreign to me. George was very handsome, and I looked deeper into his eyes, which were looking into mine lovingly.
"Your eyes are beautiful, you know?" He said. George's accent was a lot thicker than the other boys, and I found it very attractive.
"You're sweet," I replied.
George smiled at me, "You look extremely beautiful tonight as well."
"Thank you," I smiled, "You're not too bad yourself, George."
George looked down at our feet, and then up at me again, "This is so embarrassing, but I've wanted to dance with you for a long time. I've fancied you for a long time, but John scared me."
"John scared me too, to be honest," I chuckled. George laughed at me. John never thought I was funny.
He cleared his throat, "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Are you busy Wednesday?" He asked me.
For the first time in a long time, I felt attracted to someone. George's presence was certainly casting a spell on me, and I didn't hesitate to answer him, "I'm free on Wednesday."
"I was thinking that you could meet me for lunch at that french café . If you like French food, of course," I could tell that George was nervous asking me out.
I smiled, "I love French food."
"Great, it's a date then," he said.
I just smiled at him. Dancing with George made me feel happy. Nothing was on my mind but the man in front of me, and it was a nice change. I hugged George closer to me as another slow song that I didn't recognize began. As we moved in a small circle, I saw Paul standing against the wall smiling at us. George could be something special to me. He was so sweet, and so far, he was treating me well. I could tell that he was gentleman, and his mother raised him right.
The second song ended, and George pulled away, "Sorry, Sasha, but I have to head home."
I frowned slightly, "Oh, alright. I had a lovely time dancing with you. I'll see you Wednesday at noon?"
"See you then," he said, "Bye, Sasha."
Unexpectedly, George leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips. As he pulled away, I smiled. It was a good kiss, and I hadn't wanted it to end. I watched as George left the party. I stayed and talked to Paul a few more minutes before heading out myself. I was blushing all the way home thinking about George.