“But...” I stared at Paul in horror, rubbing my arms against the chilly night air. Who knew it could get so chilly outdoors in summer? “If we can’t get back on the train, how will we – how will you get home?” It would only be Paul getting home, of course, I wasn’t going home for another – what was it now? Three days? Only three days left to get Paul and John together....
“We’ll find a way.” Paul put his arm round my shoulders. “Dad won’t be happy, though.”
I pressed closer to Paul, trying to believe him and not worry that I might have gotten him in trouble. “Is your dad strict?” There weren’t really a lot of strict parents in my time – not that I knew a lot of parents other than my own, of course, but I knew strict parenting was frowned on.
“A bit, yeah.” Paul gave a small laugh, then looked down at me as I shivered again. “Are you all right? Do you want my jacket?”
“Your jacket?” I stared at him, wondering if this was normal and what a nineteen fifties girl would say if asked this question. “Don’t you need it?”
Paul shook his head like he thought I was being a bit silly. “Here, take it.” He pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. I had to admit it helped a lot. And I was wearing a jacket Paul had just worn... sigh....
“How are we going to get home?” I asked again, feeling better. “Can we ask your dad to come pick us up? We can’t, can we?”
“We’d better not ask him,” Paul agreed. “But maybe we can... Come on,” he said, suddenly taking charge. “Let’s go find a pay phone. I think I saw one back there.”
“A what?” I said as Paul started off again, scrambling to keep up. I don’t think he heard me, which was probably a good thing. I was pretty sure a nineteen fifties girl would remember right away what a pay phone was. “But if you didn’t have money for the train,” I asked instead, as I caught up to Paul and he took my hand as usual, “how will you pay for the pay phone?”
Paul stared at me a moment. “You’re really not from around here, are you?”
I didn’t know what to say to that, but Paul didn’t seem to be expecting an answer.
There was a little booth on the street corner all full of glass windows, like the ones I’d only ever seen before in old pics and movies. Inside I could see one of those old telephones that let you communicate with someone who wasn’t there, but only by talking to them. It was a little intimidating. Paul went into the booth, and I squeezed in after him.
Paul didn’t seem to mind the telephone inside. He put in some money, spun the dialling thingy, and waited. “Hello?” he said after a moment. A pause, and Paul grinned. “Hi, George.”
George? My heart beat faster as that sank in. Of course I had known that Paul knew George already, but what with being so worried about getting him to meet John, I hadn’t been thinking about it. I could just make out the murmurs of George’s voice over the telephone, and it was almost like having two Beatles in the strange, crowded booth with me.
“Listen, I got in a bit of trouble – I’m in Wales with my date, and we jumped the train to get here, and now we can’t get back on, they’re watching the trains too close... yeah... that’s right... She likes a bit of adventure, I suppose...” I blushed. “You will?” said Paul after another moment. “Thanks, George. Knew you’d come through.” Another pause. “See you, then. Bye.”
Paul put the telephone back in its place – “hanging up”, I think they called it, I don’t know why – and turned to me. “It’s all right. Me friend George is going to get his brother to drive him out here and pick us up.”
I sighed in relief. “So we won’t have to stay outside all night? And your dad won’t be mad at you?”
Paul frowned a bit. “Nah, he’ll be mad at me. I was supposed to be back ages ago. I’ll probably be in trouble – but I’ll see if I can’t get away long enough to take you out somewhere again before you have to go back wherever you come from.”
I felt a sudden sense of urgency. “Tomorrow, Paul? Can it be tomorrow afternoon? There’s... well... a concert happening at Windsor Castle I heard about, and we’ve just got to see it!” I gave him big eyes, hoping this would help.
Paul laughed. “After today you still want to go all over the country for dates?”
“Don’t you want to, Paul?” I pleaded. How could I get this to work?
“Sure I want to!” Paul said. “’Specially if it’s rock and roll. But Dad might not let me out of the house tomorrow after this. I don’t know if I could go all the way to Windsor without him noticing.”
I was in agony. “You’ve just got to, Paul! He can’t make you stay away! If he will we’ve got to go right over there without going home first! We’ve got to see that show!”
Paul stepped back a couple paces. “Calm down, Gloria. You’d think every show and festival was the last one, the way you go on about them.”
I took a breath and tried to listen to him. I didn’t want Paul to think I was crazy. Although he probably already did. “Can’t you get your father to let you go to Windsor tomorrow?” I asked again in a quieter voice. “Can’t he do something else about your staying out so late besides punishing you? Is there anything you can say that’ll change his mind? Tell him it’s for studying or something.”
Paul smiled at that. “We’ll see what I can do.”
I melted with relief. “Thanks, Paul!” I gave him a small, mischievous smile. “Why don’t you just give him your angel eyes, no one can resist those.”
Paul seemed to like this. “Oh, really?” He leaned closer to me, giving me those wonderful angel eyes full-force.... “Can you resist them?”
And this time, as he leaned into me, I leaned in to meet him, and we kissed in the moonlight, and all my worries melted away, and I just wanted this to last forever.
Some two hours later, a car – one of those big, single-family, driven-by-people cars – pulled up on the street where the pay phone stood. It was completely dark by this point, and I didn’t know what time it was. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Even if I had known before, while waiting Paul and I had completely lost track....
The car door opened and a fourteen-year-old George Harrison came out. I suppressed a small squeal. Those hollow cheeks and thick brown hair were just like the pics and vids I’d seen... he was gorgeous.
Paul stepped forward and smiled. “Hi, George, thanks for coming.”
George gave Paul the tiniest hint of a smile. “Don’t mention it. It wasn’t hard, getting Peter to take me down here. Is this the bird you were telling me about?” he added, looking over at me. I was trying not to stare too much. I knew better now than to stare at other boys while on a nineteen fifties date!
“Yeah.” Paul put his arm round my shoulders and steered me forward. “George, this is Gloria. Gloria, meet George.”
George looked me over appraisingly. I tried my hardest not to start fangirling over him, even though I realized that now I had met all four Beatles....
We got into the car, though I did it somewhat nervously, and George’s brother Peter began to drive us back, while Paul and George chatted with each other and asked me questions, with Peter sometimes joining in.
“What are you going to tell your dad?” George asked Paul as we sped down the freeway. I was hanging on to the seats with my eyes shut, still not quite able to believe a human driver would be enough to prevent us getting into an accident.
“I haven’t figured that part out yet,” Paul admitted, though there was a bit of a smile in his voice. “Suppose tellin’ him I was out with a pretty bird and lost track of time won’t help much....”
“Tell him it was my fault, Paul,” I blurted out suddenly, opening my eyes. “It was my fault – I was the one who told you we had to stay longer. I’ll come back to your house with you and apologize myself.” I swallowed hard at the thought of apologizing to a strict person I had never met before. “I can’t let you get in trouble – and we’ve got to see that concert tomorrow!”
George blinked. “What concert?”
“Ask Gloria,” Paul replied. “It’s her what wants to see it. I told her there’d be other concerts....”
“No!” I insisted. “It’s got to be this one!”
George frowned at me with those intense brown eyes I knew so well. “Paul’s right, you know. There’s concerts all over the place. Why’s it got to be this one?”
“I...” I opened and closed my mouth a little, wondering how much to say. “Well – it’s because... there’s this band performing we’ve just got to see. The Quarrymen.” There. That didn’t give away too much, did it?
George didn’t say anything, but he looked very thoughtful. I wondered what he was thinking about. Should I ask him?
Paul said: “Quarrymen or not, I’d rather go to a concert than be in trouble with me dad. But you don’t have to say it was your fault, Gloria....”
“Oh, yes I do.” I was determined now. “I’ll talk to him with you. We’ll do whatever it takes to get him to let you take me out again tomorrow!”
I didn’t even know where this was coming from. No girl in 2157 would have taken the blame for anything her date did, even if it was her fault. Of course, no girl in 2157 had to live with the knowledge that it would be her fault if the Beatles never got together....
I don’t know what time it was when we finally got to Liverpool, and then to Paul’s house. I only knew that it had to be well after midnight, that we had somehow managed to make it back with the car and ourselves in one piece, and that we had a long, awkward talk ahead of us. George gave Paul and encouraging sort of nod as we got out of the car. “Good luck, mate.”
Paul nodded, reaching over to squeeze George’s shoulder. “Yeah. Thanks for the lift, little brother.”
As the car pulled away – I tried not to stand too near it – Paul turned to me. “You don’t have to come in with me, Gloria.”
I shook my head. “Stop saying that, Paul. I’m coming.”
There was still a light on in Paul’s house as we headed up the walkway. Was it always like that, or did it mean Paul’s father had sat up waiting for him? I swallowed. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation, and it was going to happen right now.
“We’ll find a way.” Paul put his arm round my shoulders. “Dad won’t be happy, though.”
I pressed closer to Paul, trying to believe him and not worry that I might have gotten him in trouble. “Is your dad strict?” There weren’t really a lot of strict parents in my time – not that I knew a lot of parents other than my own, of course, but I knew strict parenting was frowned on.
“A bit, yeah.” Paul gave a small laugh, then looked down at me as I shivered again. “Are you all right? Do you want my jacket?”
“Your jacket?” I stared at him, wondering if this was normal and what a nineteen fifties girl would say if asked this question. “Don’t you need it?”
Paul shook his head like he thought I was being a bit silly. “Here, take it.” He pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. I had to admit it helped a lot. And I was wearing a jacket Paul had just worn... sigh....
“How are we going to get home?” I asked again, feeling better. “Can we ask your dad to come pick us up? We can’t, can we?”
“We’d better not ask him,” Paul agreed. “But maybe we can... Come on,” he said, suddenly taking charge. “Let’s go find a pay phone. I think I saw one back there.”
“A what?” I said as Paul started off again, scrambling to keep up. I don’t think he heard me, which was probably a good thing. I was pretty sure a nineteen fifties girl would remember right away what a pay phone was. “But if you didn’t have money for the train,” I asked instead, as I caught up to Paul and he took my hand as usual, “how will you pay for the pay phone?”
Paul stared at me a moment. “You’re really not from around here, are you?”
I didn’t know what to say to that, but Paul didn’t seem to be expecting an answer.
There was a little booth on the street corner all full of glass windows, like the ones I’d only ever seen before in old pics and movies. Inside I could see one of those old telephones that let you communicate with someone who wasn’t there, but only by talking to them. It was a little intimidating. Paul went into the booth, and I squeezed in after him.
Paul didn’t seem to mind the telephone inside. He put in some money, spun the dialling thingy, and waited. “Hello?” he said after a moment. A pause, and Paul grinned. “Hi, George.”
George? My heart beat faster as that sank in. Of course I had known that Paul knew George already, but what with being so worried about getting him to meet John, I hadn’t been thinking about it. I could just make out the murmurs of George’s voice over the telephone, and it was almost like having two Beatles in the strange, crowded booth with me.
“Listen, I got in a bit of trouble – I’m in Wales with my date, and we jumped the train to get here, and now we can’t get back on, they’re watching the trains too close... yeah... that’s right... She likes a bit of adventure, I suppose...” I blushed. “You will?” said Paul after another moment. “Thanks, George. Knew you’d come through.” Another pause. “See you, then. Bye.”
Paul put the telephone back in its place – “hanging up”, I think they called it, I don’t know why – and turned to me. “It’s all right. Me friend George is going to get his brother to drive him out here and pick us up.”
I sighed in relief. “So we won’t have to stay outside all night? And your dad won’t be mad at you?”
Paul frowned a bit. “Nah, he’ll be mad at me. I was supposed to be back ages ago. I’ll probably be in trouble – but I’ll see if I can’t get away long enough to take you out somewhere again before you have to go back wherever you come from.”
I felt a sudden sense of urgency. “Tomorrow, Paul? Can it be tomorrow afternoon? There’s... well... a concert happening at Windsor Castle I heard about, and we’ve just got to see it!” I gave him big eyes, hoping this would help.
Paul laughed. “After today you still want to go all over the country for dates?”
“Don’t you want to, Paul?” I pleaded. How could I get this to work?
“Sure I want to!” Paul said. “’Specially if it’s rock and roll. But Dad might not let me out of the house tomorrow after this. I don’t know if I could go all the way to Windsor without him noticing.”
I was in agony. “You’ve just got to, Paul! He can’t make you stay away! If he will we’ve got to go right over there without going home first! We’ve got to see that show!”
Paul stepped back a couple paces. “Calm down, Gloria. You’d think every show and festival was the last one, the way you go on about them.”
I took a breath and tried to listen to him. I didn’t want Paul to think I was crazy. Although he probably already did. “Can’t you get your father to let you go to Windsor tomorrow?” I asked again in a quieter voice. “Can’t he do something else about your staying out so late besides punishing you? Is there anything you can say that’ll change his mind? Tell him it’s for studying or something.”
Paul smiled at that. “We’ll see what I can do.”
I melted with relief. “Thanks, Paul!” I gave him a small, mischievous smile. “Why don’t you just give him your angel eyes, no one can resist those.”
Paul seemed to like this. “Oh, really?” He leaned closer to me, giving me those wonderful angel eyes full-force.... “Can you resist them?”
And this time, as he leaned into me, I leaned in to meet him, and we kissed in the moonlight, and all my worries melted away, and I just wanted this to last forever.
Some two hours later, a car – one of those big, single-family, driven-by-people cars – pulled up on the street where the pay phone stood. It was completely dark by this point, and I didn’t know what time it was. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Even if I had known before, while waiting Paul and I had completely lost track....
The car door opened and a fourteen-year-old George Harrison came out. I suppressed a small squeal. Those hollow cheeks and thick brown hair were just like the pics and vids I’d seen... he was gorgeous.
Paul stepped forward and smiled. “Hi, George, thanks for coming.”
George gave Paul the tiniest hint of a smile. “Don’t mention it. It wasn’t hard, getting Peter to take me down here. Is this the bird you were telling me about?” he added, looking over at me. I was trying not to stare too much. I knew better now than to stare at other boys while on a nineteen fifties date!
“Yeah.” Paul put his arm round my shoulders and steered me forward. “George, this is Gloria. Gloria, meet George.”
George looked me over appraisingly. I tried my hardest not to start fangirling over him, even though I realized that now I had met all four Beatles....
We got into the car, though I did it somewhat nervously, and George’s brother Peter began to drive us back, while Paul and George chatted with each other and asked me questions, with Peter sometimes joining in.
“What are you going to tell your dad?” George asked Paul as we sped down the freeway. I was hanging on to the seats with my eyes shut, still not quite able to believe a human driver would be enough to prevent us getting into an accident.
“I haven’t figured that part out yet,” Paul admitted, though there was a bit of a smile in his voice. “Suppose tellin’ him I was out with a pretty bird and lost track of time won’t help much....”
“Tell him it was my fault, Paul,” I blurted out suddenly, opening my eyes. “It was my fault – I was the one who told you we had to stay longer. I’ll come back to your house with you and apologize myself.” I swallowed hard at the thought of apologizing to a strict person I had never met before. “I can’t let you get in trouble – and we’ve got to see that concert tomorrow!”
George blinked. “What concert?”
“Ask Gloria,” Paul replied. “It’s her what wants to see it. I told her there’d be other concerts....”
“No!” I insisted. “It’s got to be this one!”
George frowned at me with those intense brown eyes I knew so well. “Paul’s right, you know. There’s concerts all over the place. Why’s it got to be this one?”
“I...” I opened and closed my mouth a little, wondering how much to say. “Well – it’s because... there’s this band performing we’ve just got to see. The Quarrymen.” There. That didn’t give away too much, did it?
George didn’t say anything, but he looked very thoughtful. I wondered what he was thinking about. Should I ask him?
Paul said: “Quarrymen or not, I’d rather go to a concert than be in trouble with me dad. But you don’t have to say it was your fault, Gloria....”
“Oh, yes I do.” I was determined now. “I’ll talk to him with you. We’ll do whatever it takes to get him to let you take me out again tomorrow!”
I didn’t even know where this was coming from. No girl in 2157 would have taken the blame for anything her date did, even if it was her fault. Of course, no girl in 2157 had to live with the knowledge that it would be her fault if the Beatles never got together....
I don’t know what time it was when we finally got to Liverpool, and then to Paul’s house. I only knew that it had to be well after midnight, that we had somehow managed to make it back with the car and ourselves in one piece, and that we had a long, awkward talk ahead of us. George gave Paul and encouraging sort of nod as we got out of the car. “Good luck, mate.”
Paul nodded, reaching over to squeeze George’s shoulder. “Yeah. Thanks for the lift, little brother.”
As the car pulled away – I tried not to stand too near it – Paul turned to me. “You don’t have to come in with me, Gloria.”
I shook my head. “Stop saying that, Paul. I’m coming.”
There was still a light on in Paul’s house as we headed up the walkway. Was it always like that, or did it mean Paul’s father had sat up waiting for him? I swallowed. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation, and it was going to happen right now.