Chapter 21
June 2, 1961
We walked in silence toward the flat. The cobblestone streets bustled despite it being so late...or maybe it was early now. What was half-past two in the morning even considered?
John didn't touch me, and I had my arms crossed over my chest as I walked heavily beside him. I wanted him to feel with every pounding footstep exactly how I felt about the decisions everyone else was making for me. My opinion didn't seem to matter anymore, and I wanted to know why.
I'd planned on getting it out of John at the club, but the moment the set was over, he put George on me, like some kind of guard. But really, what did John think I was going to do? He'd ensured that my walking partner would be staying at the club as he and Astrid made some kind of ridiculous arrangement between the two of them. And I wasn't about to walk home alone. No, I needed him to be my damned escort.
He'd emerged minutes later with his glasses on, relieving George of his guard duties and ushering me toward the door. He wore a fresh set of clothing, a pair of dark-wash jeans and a white shirt, and it looked like he'd run a comb through his hair.
We were nearing Astrid's flat when I finally had enough of the silence. I wanted to get the fight, or whatever it was we were about to do, out of the way before making it to my place. I didn't want him to come inside with me because I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle him being there with me, just the two of us. Alone.
"What's all of this about?" I asked as I pulled his arm, bringing him to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk.
"Let's just get inside," he said as he took another step forward.
I grabbed his shirt and held him back. "Is this about what happened tonight? I told you I'm fine."
"Yeah, you said that." He finally stopped trying to walk and turned to face me.
"How'd you see what happened, anyway?" I asked.
He smirked. "With me eyes, Liv."
My hands went to my hips. "Meant without yer glasses, ye twit."
"I'm not totally blind. The bar isn't that far from the stage."
"Yeah, but it's not exactly within a few metres either, which, if I remember correctly, is about how far you can see before the world becomes a blur."
"I knew where you were sitting." He took a tentative step toward me. "But it was George who told me Jürgen had dragged ye out the door by the wrist."
I bit my lip and nodded. "Knew you couldn't possibly see, ye blind mole."
Another step forward, and now I could almost feel heat radiating from his body.
"What fuckin' 'appened, Liv?"
"Jürgen shouldn'ta done what he did. I told him I didn't want to leave." I stared at the ground, counting the cobblestones instead of looking at John. "He was a proper arsehole grabbing me like that."
John's hands were on my arms. His entire demeanor had changed toward me in the matter of an afternoon. He'd been distant during the photoshoot, I was sure of it. And now? Well, now it felt like we hadn't spent the last two months practically avoiding each other.
"No, he shouldn'ta done that," he said, his voice low.
I still couldn't look at him as I continued. "But it wasn't that...'cause I coulda handled him. He just wanted to talk."
His arm snaked around my lower back, and he coaxed me to walk beside him. I didn't have it in me to fight him, my head too wrapped up in what had happened back at the club.
"So then, what the hell was it?"
"I don't know." I pushed out a sigh as I tried to come up with something coherent. "His hand went around my wrist, and me dad had done that a few times. And then it was like I was back there, in his house, living the abuse all over again. I knew I wasn't there, I knew where I was...I knew it was Jürgen. But I kept seeing me dad's fists. I know I sound a bit batty."
He hugged me closer to his side, and I pushed my head to his chest, closing my eyes for just a moment, allowing him to guide me. We clicked into place, like the two pieces of a puzzle we'd been for years. Being this close to him again was like coming home.
It was a dangerously slippery slope being so close to John Lennon. But I couldn't pull away from him, at least not yet.
"You're safe," he said into my ear.
And I knew I was because I was with him.
I absently pushed my finger against my throbbing temple as I pried my eyes open and saw that we were getting closer to the flat.
"But you didn't need to punch him, John." It came out a bit harsher than I'd anticipated. But I'd seen enough fists flying to last a lifetime.
"Thought he was hurtin' you."
"He wasn't, and I'd rather you not go punching people for no reason."
It was almost crazy to say that to John considering how many fights he'd gotten in over the years. But he was changing, getting better. He didn't need to mourn the loss of his mother through his fists anymore.
"It wasn't for no reason." His gaze flicked upward, and he pushed out a long breath. "Fuck, Liv, you shoulda seen the look on yer face, it was like he was torturing you. I didn't know what to do."
"Yeah, well...sorry. I don't really know what was wrong with me." I pulled him to a stop in front of the doors to the flat and allowed myself one more moment with his arm around me before I pressed my lips together and stepped out of his embrace. I tucked a stray hair behind my ear. "Erm, this is it."
"I know." He stood in front of me, staring at me. "I've been here before, ye twit."
"Yeah, right. Sure. I knew tha," I rambled as I fiddled with my hair. "Goodnight, then." I ducked my head and reached for the door with the key in my hand.
"I'm comin' in." He wrapped his hand around mine. "There's more."
"It's bloody late, John," I mumbled as I rubbed at my temple again. "What do'ya mean there's more? Can't it wait?"
"Just let me in."
I clenched my hand as I stepped toward him. I knew this had to do with whatever Astrid had told him, and I was worried about what she'd decided to divulge. There were things John didn't need to know, and it wasn't her right to tell him.
"Say whatever you need to say here."
"Bloody hell," he said, his tone sharp. "Inside, Liv. Now."
I mumbled every swear I knew as I clenched my teeth together and pushed the key into the lock. The door swung open, and I pulled the key from the handle before striding toward the stairs, not once looking behind me.
I wished my sour mood would've deterred him from following me, but his footsteps echoed in the silent stairwell as he trailed just a few steps behind me.
My hands shook as I opened the door to the flat, still not looking behind me. I refused to acknowledge his existence because he wasn't meant to be in the flat with me. Hadn't that been the whole point of trying to get into a row with him on the street?
I pulled my hair out of the loose bun as I strode toward my room, hoping I could slip into my bedroom and lock the door before he had a chance to catch up with me.
But I was sorely mistaken.
I stepped into my room and turned on my heels, and he was right fucking there. He crossed the threshold into my room and sat on my bed like I'd invited him to, which I most certainly had not. He looked up at me, his light brown eyes meeting mine as he patted the spot beside him.
With arms crossed over my chest, I rolled my eyes at the invitation and took a few steps back, trying to put as much distance between us as possible.
"Liv," he said, diving into whatever he really wanted to talk about right away. "Are you okay? And I don't mean about tonight."
"Of course I am."
He lifted a single brow and looked directly at me. "I thought we didn't lie to each other."
"Why do you assume I'm lying?"
Maybe because I was, but we hadn't seen enough of each other in the last several months for him to know that.
"Paul told me he's worried 'bout you." John went on without addressing my question. "Keeps tellin' me to talk to you. Any idea why he might be worried?"
"Paul should shut his mouth." Fucking Paul. Fucking big mouth shite secret keeper.
"Livvy, are you okay?" He moved on my bed until his back was against the headboard, giving him something to lean against. He brought his knees up and crossed an ankle over the opposite knee, looking awfully comfortable as the two of us raced toward an epic row. "Don't bloody lie this time."
"What do you want me to say?" I backed up a few more steps until I hit the wall. My heart picked up its pace as I avoided his eyes. "It's obvious you know exactly what you'd like to get outta me. So save us both a little time and tell me."
"I want you to tell me. Because we fuckin' care about each other, don't we? Secrets and lies are for–"
"Arseholes who don't care. Yeah, I remember." I didn't need to be reminded of our promise to each other, and I certainly didn't want to think about how many times I'd broken it. I was a shite friend. "But it's more complicated than that now, innit?"
Ever since the kiss, it had definitely become more complicated.
"It's really not." He ran a hand through his hair. "Unless you don't care anymore."
"Of course I bloody care." That was the problem, wasn't it, just how much I cared about him?
"Then what's going on between us? 'Cause we aren't talkin' anymore. You aren't tellin' me anything, and you're not all right, not even bloody close."
"I'm not the only one who's been distant." My hands trembled, and I gripped them together to try to make it stop.
He cocked his head to the side. "We're not talkin' 'bout me tonight. We're talkin' 'bout you." John pushed off my bed and stepped toward me. "I've been tryin' to give you space, 'cause I thought that was what you wanted, but it was a mistake."
"What did Astrid tell you?" My chest was heavy, like someone sat on it and refused to get up. If he kept skirting around the topic that I knew he wanted to bring up, then we'd be at it all night. And I didn't have the energy to fight that long. I had a damned good idea what she'd told him, considering the way he was talking to me, so I brought it up myself. "Did she tell you 'bout that night?"
"About what night?" He gripped my arm and pulled me closer to the bed, and for some reason, I let him.
"Oh, don't be daft, John. She fuckin' told you, didn't she?"
He pulled me onto the bed and sat beside me, his feet on the floor. I slipped my shoes off and wrapped my legs under me. His silence told me everything I needed to know.
She definitely told him about that night in February...and it wasn't her bloody place. It was my secret, my mistake.
He leaned against his legs and turned his head toward me. "Liv...tell me it's not how she made it sound."
"I don't know what she told you." I tried to keep my voice level, but it kept rising ever so slightly as the words kept tumbling from my lips. "So I'm not sure how to tell you it's not how she made it sound."
"She told me she came home that night and found you on the floor, unresponsive...a nearly empty bottle of sleeping pills near you." He looked at me, his eyes unblinking, his lips turned into a heartbreaking frown.
I shifted. "It was nothing."
"Nothing?" He pushed his hand into his thick hair, leaving it there and gripping the ends. "Fuck that, Liv. She said she thought you were dead."
"I wasn't dead, though, was I?"
"She said she couldn't find your pulse and thought she'd have to ring a medic."
I stared at my legs, pulling at a loose string at the bottom of my trousers. I didn't want to hear any of this. I didn't want to think about that night. About how unbelievably careless I'd been, about how horrible I'd felt the next day.
When I didn't speak, he continued, his tone controlled, yet sharp. "But she finally found a pulse and rang Jürgen instead. She said they made you throw up, and then once you started, you couldn't stop. That it had taken hours for you to open your eyes, and be responsive again." He paused and searched for my eyes, but I refused to look at him. "Sound about right?"
"She's exaggerating." But how was I supposed to know? I couldn't recall a single thing from that night after getting home until I woke up wrapped around the toilet, my cheek pressed against the cold tiled floor. "It wasn't that bad."
He pushed out a long breath and shook his head. "Then you tell me what bloody 'appened."
"I wasn't sleeping well." Numbness crept over my chest. "I couldn't fuckin' sleep, John, and I was so knackered. Astrid gave me some pills to help me sleep. And that night, I'd been out drinking with me mates. So I guess I took a few extra pills because, well, I don't know why I did it. Because I was knackered? Because I was bladdered? It was an accident."
He looked at me, his eyes unblinking. "Astrid doesn't think it was an accident."
I dropped my head into my hands. "Well, Astrid doesn't know what the fuck she's talkin' about."
He was silent for a moment, and I took the time to breathe, trying not to be annoyed with Astrid for telling John. She was worried about me, she'd made that very clear recently, so I needed to control my misplaced anger. Because truthfully, without her, I don't know what might've happened that night.
This was so much worse than our normal rows. John wasn't yelling at me, and I wasn't shouting back. There was no sarcasm, no banter. He sounded so...disappointed, worried, defeated. I didn't know what exactly it was, but it weighed heavily on me.
"Did'ya try...." His voice trailed off. His hand found my leg, and he squeezed. And then he continued, his voice so low I could barely hear him. "Did'ya try to off yourself or somethin', Liv? Is that what 'appened?"
My head flew up from my hands. "What? No. It was an accident, I swear." I looked at him and made sure he was looking at me. "Honestly, John. I swear."
He blinked once and then nodded, and I hoped he believed me. Because I wasn't lying, not this time anyway.
John scooted back again and pressed his back against my headboard. He parted his legs slightly and then looked at me. "Lay down, Livvy." When I looked like I was going to refuse, he added, "Just please."
It was an impossible offer to turn down when he asked so gently. His low, velvety voice almost begged me to seek solace in his embrace. I needed him to hold me like he had after my mum had been killed...there was nothing better for my soul than feeling John so close.
I moved until my head rested on his lap, and his legs hugged my sides. My bloody feelings for him be damned, I needed my mate. I finally gave in to the urge I'd been suppressing and denying myself for months. I hadn't even realized I'd been a bit chilly until his warmth surrounded me from all sides.
His fingers went to my hair, and my eyes slipped closed. We stayed silent as we became reacquainted with each other, remembering how things used to be between us. It was like riding a bike. Everything came rushing back as if we hadn't been separated for months, first by distance, and then by choice.
"Sleeping pills, Liv, really?" he said after a long while.
"Get off it, John." I shook my head at the hypocrisy of it all. "You've done worse...popping four or five prellies at a time."
"You're not still takin' 'em, are you?" he asked, completely ignoring me, as if every decision he made in life was acceptable and all of my choices were reckless. When I didn't respond right away, his hand stilled in my hair, and he repeated himself. "Are you?"
"No, I stopped." I rubbed at my temple. "That night scared the hell outta me, all right?"
His fingers started moving in my hair again, the feeling lulling me. "Why did ye start, why couldn't ye sleep?"
"I dunno, do I?" I licked at my lips as I shrugged, my eyes still closed. "It's not like I'm choosing not to sleep. I'm knackered all the time, and it's driving me batty. I don't know what in the bloody hell to do about it." Once the waterfall of truth started, it was difficult to stop. "I keep dreaming about me mum's dead eyes and me dad's fists. I can't get them outta me head. And then I wake up and can't get back to sleep for hours."
"You were sleeping okay before I left, weren't ye?"
"Yeah, I was. This has just been the last coupla months." I wanted to be more specific, that it had been since he left, but I bit the inside of my cheek and stopped myself. I didn't want to admit the extent of the downward spiral I'd succumbed to in his absence as the nightmares and insomnia took hold.
"When we get home, you're going to see a doctor." The moment the words left his mouth, I flew out of his lap and reeled my head around to look at him. But he kept talking before I could get a word in. "You've 'ad headaches for months, don't think I haven't noticed. Have one now, I'd bet, the way you keep rubbing your temple. And now ye can't sleep?" The wrinkle in his brow deepened. "It's fuckin' worrying me, Livvy. I'm worried about you."
"Home? What the hell are ye talkin' 'bout?"
He was out of his damned mind. He couldn't possibly be talking about me going back to Liverpool, could he? He couldn't be that bloody daft.
"I tried your way, letting you take charge of yer life. I left you in Liverpool with yer dad until he beat you bloody senseless. I left you here in fuckin' Germany alone for fuck's sake. But it's not workin'." His tone left no room for argument. He was dead set on what he was saying...what I wanted didn't matter anymore. "So now we're gonna do it my way. I'm not beggin' ye to come anymore." He looked directly into my eyes as he spoke. "No, I'm tellin' you you're coming home with me."
"Christ, John, don't bloody tell me what to do." I backed away from him, my body tensing.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Somebody fuckin' needs to cause you're not taking care of yourself."
"John," I said, my gaze darting to meet his. "What happened that night was an accident. It won't happen again, I promise. You don't need to worry."
"But I do worry about you, Livvy. Especially since I've been back here. You've been distant and different. And I thought you just wanted to be independent, but that's not it at all. You're falling apart." His hand went into his hair again. "So accident or not, I don't want you here alone. You'll come back home with us at the end of the month."
I opened my mouth and then closed it, unable to speak. The thought of going back was too overwhelming to even consider.
"Liv," he said, swallowing hard. It almost looked as if tears were swimming in his eyes. "I lost me mum, and I almost didn't make it through the fuckin' misery of it all. I'm not losing you, too, because I don't think I'd fuckin' make it."
And that's all he needed to say to shut me up for good. I reached for him and pulled him into a tight embrace, holding him as he tried to control his emotions. I'd been so wrapped up in my own needs that I'd forgotten to think about John. I'd forgotten that he needed me just as much as I needed him.
Eventually, he moved me back into his lap again, and his thumb stroked my shoulder as his other hand twisted my hair. Neither one of us brought up Liverpool again. We still had a month to fight about what exactly would happen. It didn't have to be decided right then. But deep down, I knew that in a month's time, I'd likely be in the same city as my father. And the thought terrified me.
"I've missed you, y'know," he whispered. My eyes were closed again, but I forced myself to not fall asleep.
"I've missed you, too." And I don't know where it came from, but I said, "Why'd you stop talkin' to me?"
"I didn't stop talking to you."
"You did, kinda, though, John."
He exhaled slowly. "Well, you stopped talking to me, too."
"Yeah, I did." He was right, we'd both messed up. "It all changed after you left in December."
I couldn't believe I'd brought it up, not in so many words, but it was there, finally on the table.
His thumb stilled on my shoulder. "I'm sorry about tha, okay? Sorry 'bout that row we had. I was angry, frustrated, and I took it out on you."
I swallowed thickly. It wasn't often I heard the word sorry come out of John's mouth. "Okay."
"Can we move past it, pretend it never happened?"
Was he talking about the fight or the kiss? I wanted to ask, but I didn't have the nerve. Not with his thumb stroking my skin, or with his fingers in my hair. I didn't want to ruin the moment. We were finally close again after so, so long.
So maybe this just needed to be enough.
"Yeah, let's move on." It was so easy to say...as if I could simply move on from the kiss, from my obstinate feelings for him. But I had to try. Because life didn't feel right when John wasn't in it. We could be friends.
Right?
"Livvy," he whispered. "Why don't ye try to sleep?"
I hummed and then formed real words. "I've gotta walk you out."
"I'm not goin' anywhere." He squeezed his legs tighter around my body as if to prove to me that he wasn't leaving.
I was too close to sleep to remind myself that I shouldn't fall asleep in John's embrace. Instead, I snuggled in closer and finally drifted to sleep.