Is it just me or do important things arrive in the post when you are not at that address? Not only did I receive an invitation to a wedding and a letter from Ariyan in Ireland, but my acceptance letter to University of Bristol had finally shown up as well. My mother wanted to throw a party, but I wouldn't think of rubbing my luck in my friends' faces. The invite was to my cousin Amanda's wedding. I didn't want to miss that, for she was a true friend of mine. Ariyan's letter told of how boring Ireland was when it was raining and asked how George and I were coming along. This girl simply wouldn't give up on that, would she? When I had sufficiently washed off the collected residue of three shower-less days, I settled down to write my reply.
After coming too close to falling asleep in my mashed potatoes and hardly digestible meatloaf, I decided that I needed to go to bed. I apologized for not helping with dishes and crawled upstairs. The instant I was tucked in, the little cartoon Zs floated up from my head. This had to be a World Record for fastest descent into La-La Land. For the first morning in a while, I wasn't raised at dawn. Quite the contrary, I slept in until ten-thirty. That equaled approximately 15 hours of uninterrupted, much-needed rest. Nothing of great importance happened that day. I worked on a latch-hook rug and called George at noon. My life at it's most boring. We never had any formal "dates," for the next few days, just simple meetings in the park and talking on the phone. Oh yes, we did a lot of that. My parents couldn't harass me for getting home late or holding his hand if we were conversing kilometers away from each other. It was the one thing they hadn't taken all of the fun out of.
---***---
Five days later, Anya, Halle and I had a girl's day out. We shopped on Penny Lane. Halle found a lovely little number. Lavender, satin, and skimpy, it was more of a nightgown than a dress. She was absolutely attached to it and had to have it. I had to admit, she was stacked and this thing made her look ravishing. Anya and I exchanged knowing glances. We both knew that it would drive John mad and have him drooling.
"Wear it tonight for John," I told her.
"He'll be all over you," Anya added.
All of us burst into laughter at that thought. Anya had very different tastes in clothes than I. She loved black anything. Existentialist apparel it was called. Not Gothic, though, just black. She picked out a camisole tank top (which back then was extremely indecent and risky) and a tight leather skirt. It wasn't like Anya to wear things that were deemed totty. I was surprised, but my selection was about the same when it came to being showy: a pink, thin strapped, ruffle hem dress. As you can see, I preferred pink as a clothing color, but not as one in anything else, if that makes any sense. By it self, pink is a girly and lurid thing, but when it is put on the right dress, it works perfectly. We went for lunch at a bistro. My mother's voice was ringing in my ears telling me that I had betrayed her. She had given me the money to go. On top of that, I was going clubbing tonight against her wishes, but I was soon to be an independent 18 year old, so I felt that I should exercise my rights to have a free life.
"So, Ella, how have your first few weeks with George been?" Halle asked, after daintily swallowing a bit of salad.
"Fine, I suppose. We don't really date, in that sense. My mum won't let us, so we meet in the park practically everyday," I replied.
"Ooh, I can see it now. Snogging in the bushes all alone in the warm sunshine," Anya teased.
"No way! He wishes!" I said with a laugh. "We haven't even done serious kissing. You were right, he's not very forward when it comes to that."
"Hey, ladies, if we don't hurry, we're not gonna have time to get ready before the movie," Anya pointed out.
George, John and Paul were taking all of us to see the same film, Vertigo. It was all Halle, John and Paul's idea. None of the rest of us knew that we were in for the most mentally disturbing and terrifying thriller ever writen. It wasn't my first Hitchcock picture, though. Maybe a year ago, my troupe of girls and our boyfriends went to see The 39 Steps, one of his earlier few. From what I gathered, Vertigo was about a man named Scottie who had a crippling fear of heights. After watching a friend fall to his death, he became afflicted with vertigo to accompany his acrophobia. There were so many plot-twists that it was absolutely impossible to follow. The scariest parts were the three bloodcurdling screams that came with the three plummets to death. Again, since there were sub-plots coming out the wazoo, another story within told of a woman who was believed to be a ghost or phantom or something of the like. This Scottie character falls in love with her, but I think she dies. Then there was another woman who took her place. For those who were wondering, this is not a film to see if you would like to understand it on the first go. I think that at some point there was romance as well, but I totally missed that. Technically, there were a few heated kisses between the main character and the supposedly possesed lady who kind of dies in the middle. (I told you I wasn't paying attention!)
We were sitting in the left-to-right order of Halle, John, Paul, Anya, me and George. Anya and I probably got Paul and George pretty upset because when Madeleine fell off the bell tower, we clung to each other instead of the boys. This changed later, though. Half an hour into it, I rested my head on George's arm and he took my cold hand in his warm one comfortingly. Very near the end, George, who had been a proper escort throughout, let go of my hand and tried the "yawn trick." His hand went a bit farther than my shoulder, but I let him as a reward for his good behavior. That is until his fingers dared to brush lower. He had this smirk of victory at being able to cop a feel. While I batted his hand away, he grinned childishly.
"It was worth a try," he whispered.
---***---
"Did anyone catch any of that?" Halle asked, making it more of a rhetorical query. Her simple statement seemed to speak for all of our thoughts on what we had just seen. Outside, it was warmer than before but still not dark.
Paul yawned, and then peeled off his jacket and tossed it to John to carry. Seeing that it would set off John, George did the same.
"Do I look like a fuckin' coat rack?" John exclaimed. Deftly, he dropped them both and continued walking. George and Paul's mouths dropped open and they stopped dead.
"Hey! John you bas... ow!" Paul yelled, turning back to rescue his fallen coat. Anya hadn't let him finish because she slapped his arm in an effort to get Paul to watch his language.
"I swear, Lennon, if you weren't bigger than me, I'd beat you silly," George muttered, brushing the dirt from his jacket.
"Was that supposed to be threatening, George?" Anya questioned. "Because it certainly wasn't, luv."
"That was mean, Anya!" Halle defended. "Don't worry, George, some of us still love you," she consoled, kissing his cheek. The poor darling blushed as Anya came to him and did the same.
"Sorry, George, I didn't mean it."
At this point, George had all three of us gathered around him either holding his hand, stroking his hair or straightening his clothes and such. We were purposely doting over him to make John and Paul mad that the youngest had our complete attention. George didn't react to this very positively; he had a look that was somewhere between puzzled and alarmed.
"Girls, you can stop now," he said quietly.
Meanwhile, John and Paul were mocking us rather melodramatically.
"Oh, George, can I hold your hand?" John mimicked in a outrageously high-pitched voice.
"Oh, George, can I breathe your air?" Paul carried on.
"Please, George, can I lick your shoes?"
As John and Paul practically fell over laughing, George progressed from pink to a glowing crimson.
"All right, we get it, you're funny, we're not, now grow up, you children!" Halle admonished as all of us glowered at the 18 and 19 turned three-year-olds.
As some of his normal color was returning, he sighed. "How come I couldn't get this much attention from girls before?"
"Because we were never around before!" I answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Eight o'clock, not quite time to start clubbing, so Paul suggested a walk in the park. While we were strolling, George had his arm around the back of my waist, so we were extremely close. I loved the feeling of having him so warm and comforting next to me. None of my earlier crushes gave off the aura of sweetness that he did. Then it hit me that maybe he wasn't as into me as I was him. What a horrible thought! Just to make sure I asked, "George, what are we?"
"Is this some kind of philosophical question?" he inquired confusedly.
"No, as in you and me."
"Oh, I dunno. Never thought about it. I guess we're boyfriend/girlfriend, if that's all right with you." He looked anxious to hear my response.
Mentally, I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Okay, just checking. I kinda thought you didn't really like me as much as I like you."
"Oh, Ella! I adore you! What made you think that?"
He blushed yet again surprised at his own outburst. To tell you the truth, I was slightly taken aback as well, but still happy to hear it.
"I'm not exactly positive myself. I just got really worried, that's all."
He must have been thinking because he paused for a bit before saying, "See if this doesn't help you feel more sure of me."
George held tightly to my waist, then dipped me into a swoon as I gasped. All my fears about if he loved me were lost with this powerful and ravenous kiss. It was our first taste of each other. I closed my eyes and felt his tongue searching for mine. One of his hands traveled to my chin and he pushed it up gently. In a matter of time, we were standing up straight again, but still hadn't let up for air. For those who are waiting for the fairy tale leg flip thing, I did it right before we finished.
Of course, our audience had to say something. Paul whooped loudly and John asked in awe, "Did you ever let her breathe? Damn, George, I never knew ya had it in you!" Halle and Anya stared mouths gaping, silently taking in the spectacle. A few people passed by and glared at us disdainfully. We didn't care. George and I were in that world where nobody but us existed. After an eternity, he pulled away and smiled in a self-satisfied way.
"How was that?" he asked smugly.
"Couldn't have wished for more in my wildest dreams," I replied softly, looking into his moon-bathed eyes.
"Wow, I knew that bottled-up energy would come out sometime," Paul giggled.
For the rest of the night, we couldn't keep our hands off of each other. At least now I knew what the score was. (And I also found out in the process that he was a master of the fine and involved art of making out.) John reminded us that we were supposed to be going to the Jac. In all the excitement, I had completely forgotten. Basically, the whole night I floated around still intoxicated by the proceeding events. When he took me home at around 11, he gave me another kiss, nothing mind-blowing by any stretch of the imagination, just a goodnight kiss. It still sent me over the moon.
"I have to bring you with me sometime when we play. We've got a gig practically every night with Allan Williams and his clubs." He sighed. "Well, I have to go."
"Okay, then. I'm going to miss you." It was a rather silly thing to say considering the fact that I'd see him in a matter of days, but my brain was under hormonal control now.
"So am I, luv." With a quick peck on my forehead, he left.
"Natalie, your mother and I would like a word with you." It was my dad.
---***---
He startled me, especially with what he had just said. Dad never spoke to me with that tone, only Mum could. What was going on?
"What do you think you were doing!?!" my mother shrieked.
"Samantha, please calm down," my father pleaded, "yelling will get you nowhere."
"Brian, you've been too soft with her from day one! If I'm not careful, she'll be pregnant in the blink of an eye from that tramp!"
"Can you two explain what is going on?" I shouted, ending their bickering.
"Oh, you know perfectly well what's going on! That so-called boyfriend of yours is doing exactly what I warned you about. We know what you were doing in the park with him." She turned her sharp, unfeeling eyes on me.
"How did you find out?" My mind raced. Had she been spying on me this whole week? Only watching, waiting for us to do something so she could swoop down on me.
"Your brother was watching you the whole time, Natalie," my dad said, barely above a whisper. He wouldn't look up at me. "He was in the park with his friends. They seem to have cold, hard evidence against you. To think, I believed you when you said he was a nice boy..."
I absolutely wanted to die; even my dad was disappointed. "I thought I could trust you, Ella. I'm sorry, but we have to forbid you from seeing or corresponding with him ever again."
Shock, disbelief, anger, hatred, fear: all of these emotions were running cold through my veins.
"I suppose that you've slept with him, as well. Please tell me that he at least used protection..." Mum's voice was curt and had lost all the warmth it had ever held.
I cut her off, "Mum! I never did anything with him! That was the first real kiss he's ever given me! I'm not a totty!" Being a respectable English lady, I would never let him touch me like that for a long time.
"Even if you haven't, it's only a matter of time. If I wasn't a good mother, I would have disowned you."
"Go ahead, what a loss that would be! If you were such a wonderful mother, you would understand!" I shouted, trying her nerves. Before she could throw any sort of reply, I ran up to my room and slammed the door. Now Dad was upset, too. Knowing me, I would forgive my parents by morning, though. Crying didn't seem like the appropriate thing to do right now. I was way beyond that stage. Rage had blinded me and I headed for the shower not thinking. My normal evening routine was completed without any help from my conscious mind. The tides of sleep washed over me and provided something that I could rely on.
---***---
Next Friday, I arranged to have Jenny and Lauren come over to my house. They were trying to prepare me for Amanda's wedding the next day. It's always the thought that counts, right? Instead of helping pick out a dress or come up with a hairstyle, we ate peanut butter and chocolate chips while discussing important matters like whether Elvis or Ricky Nelson was cuter. Once my mother informed us that it was almost time for them to leave, though, they kicked into action tearing through my dresser, determined to find the best outfit they could. The first thing Lauren asked was which dresses I had never worn. That narrowed it down to two: a long, strapless, purple evening gown and another strapless, shorter, paisley pink one. These two were tossed on the bed. While I tried on each of them in the corner, Jenny picked carefully through my jewelry. Lauren completely hated the first one and threw the second at me. Stepping out of it, I unzipped the pink one, eager to cover myself up. From downstairs, my mother called stiffly, "Ella, you have another visitor." I shrieked, and Lauren urged me to dress quickly. Whoever this visitor was, they were fast. There came a tapping at my door and Jenny ran to answer it. Dashing to Lauren, I ordered her to zip my dress. We were in a rush in the first place, now we had to work in double speed to clear the room. Jenny had only opened the door a crack so that our mysterious guest couldn't see what we were up to.
"You'd best hurry up girls," Jenny said, sticking her head back inside.
"There!" I shouted, shoving all of the excess clothes into a heap at the bottom of my once clean bureau.
Jenny opened the door and in walked George.
"Hi, girls," he greeted with his adorable lop-sided smile.
I turned a hardly perceptible shade of scarlet and was surprised that my mum had let him up here. On second thought, maybe that wasn't trust she was exhibiting, just common sense. She very well knew that he wouldn't do anything while Lauren and Jenny were around.
"You, my dear, look lovely," George said, kissing my cheek.
"No, I don't. I never do," I replied, kissing back.
"We've got to go, Ella. I'm sure you don't want us around now anyways," Jenny said, speaking for the both of them.
"I'll see you tomorrow after the wedding, girls," I said loudly as they left.
"Wedding? So now you've gone off and married someone else. I thought I had you to meself," he pouted mockingly.
"I'd never dream of it! Why would I ever leave a darling thing like you?"
"I dunno. You'd find a reason; I'm sure."
"Speaking of reasons, what's your excuse for being here?"
"I came to take you out with me tonight."
"How do you propose we run that by the abominable bitch?"
He grinned again. "You mean your mum?"
"Yeah, whatever you want to call her."
"That's easy enough. I think she's a bit frightened of me, to tell ya the truth." This I had to see.
"A'right, just let me change out of this."
Heading for the dresser, I nearly forgot what a mess there was inside of it. Rethinking swiftly, I grabbed a blouse with a fluffy pussycat bow and my khaki skirt from the drawers next to it instead. From there, I headed for the bathroom. Utilizing the brush and makeup in the drawers below the sink, I dolled myself up a little. In a matter of very little time, I came back with dress in hand. Laying it across my bed, I sat down, pulled on my favorite canvas sneakers and grabbed my black purse. Together, we walked downstairs to confront my jail warden, I mean, mother.
"Oh Mummy dearest," I called in an intentionally bright and perky voice. "I'm going out. I promise I'll be back before ten."
The popping veins in her temples were almost visible and her eye twitched a little bit along with it. She had sworn that she wouldn't let me see him again over her dead body and now there was nothing she could do to stop me.
"Gotcha," I hissed in rapture under my breath. We had her in a vulnerable position where, for once, I had the upper hand. George was right; she was scared of him, or at least she was afraid to demur my ruling with him around. Samantha Lynn Riley, former impervious monarch of the household, was trembling before us. With a horrid, forcedly pleasant tone that didn't match her expression of revulsion, she said, "All right, dear."
What she muttered unintelligibly after we left would have made my heart stop cold lest I had heard it.
Oh yes, Ella. You'd better have fun now because you certainly won't when you get home. No boyfriend to protect you then, is there? When I get through with you, you won't ever want to face him again.
George brought me to yet another club that I had never been to: the Blue Angel. This time we actually had more of what you might call a meal. The funny thing was that I refused to let him pay for it and he wouldn't let me. As a compromise, we Dutch treated the whole thing after a pointless row. Being late June meant that dusk fell much later than usual, so it wasn't dark when we left the club. An entire half hour remained until the whole Cinderella syndrome was going to occur. At least Cinderella got to stay out until midnight. Plain old Ella had to be back by ten.
"Do you want me to take you home or do you want to wait?" George asked, as we strolled with no particular place in mind to go.
"Let me think, would I rather go home to my officious mother or stay with the sweetest boy in the world who I love so much?" I debated sarcastically.
"Okay, stupid question. So, what do you want to do?"
"I wanna kiss you all night long, silly boy! What else?"
"Would you fancy doing it in the park or should we find a quiet alleyway?"
"The alley sounds so dark and seedy. Let's go."
Which is exactly what we did. Necking is so much more satisfying when you're being pressed up against a wall in a dirty, damp back street. A demure and moral young woman like myself should never be found in this situation. I could see reason why, though. Young ladies weren't supposed to have fun in any form. This was definitely not lady-like in that sense. The only way I was keeping track of time was by taking quick glances at George's watch, which meant that I had to open my eyes or take my gaze off of him once and a while.
When we paused for a minute to completely catch our breath, I ran my hands up his arms to his chest.
"God, what I would do to stay with you tonight..."
"You don't want your mum to kill me, do you? 'Cos that's all you'd accomplish with that. Come on, luv, we really have to bring you back."
What could I do besides agree? Ten o'clock hit right before we reached my house. Not realizing that time was up, we squandered a few more minutes on the front porch with a farewell kiss. Normally, there wasn't any tongue involved in it, but we even managed a French kiss before my brother, who was up way past his bedtime, saw us and opened the door to watch.
"Ooh, I'm telling Mum you're out here kissing with your boyfriend!" he threatened. This was going to take some fast bribing. I pulled him out and shut the door.
"Alex, please don't rat on us. I'm in enough trouble as it is."
"Oh Mummy..." he called quietly.
"Come on! I'll do anything!"
Alex was one smart cookie; he knew how to manipulate and get what he wanted. I was afraid of the consequences of what I had just promised. I could tell that he was thinking this over making sure he didn't make the wrong choice.
"Two things, Ella. You give me your earrings and I get to talk to George here without you around."
I nearly laughed; what kind of lame demands were those?
"What on Earth are you going to do with my earrings?!"
"Collateral, you twit. To make sure that you do what I say. I thought you were the sharp one in this family."
"All right, but what do you want with George?"
"I need to ask him something, so take off your earrings and go inside."
Delicately, I pulled the back off of each stud and slid them out of my earlobes. With a final helpless and pleading glance at George and then Alex, I quietly opened the door and went inside. Watching their conversation deafly through the window next to the door, I was careful to be stealthy about it. It was rather amusing to see little Alexander Riley questioning 17-year-old George Harrison. After Alex's first question, I saw George burst out into laughter and then saw Alex put his hands on his hips and look sternly at him. Again, George spoke, and Alex nodded, then shot another inquiry, this time probably something less humorous. Politely, George answered and then squatted down to Alex's level. Leaning over, Alex whispered something to him. George returned the action, and then stood back up. The door opened and Alex said I could come back out.
"Okay, here's the deal, I keep the earrings until I get enough favors out of you, Ella."
"That's it?"
"Do you want there to be more?" Alex asked.
"Thanks anyways, Alex. Now can you leave us alone for a little bit?"
"Certainly."
"What did he ask you?" I inquired when the door shut.
"I promised not to tell. You wouldn't want to know anyhow."
"Tell me!"
"All right, all right!" George started laughing again and covered his mouth with a hand. "He asked me if you were a good kisser."
"And?"
"Of course I said you were. Then he asked what I play in the band. Then, oh Christ, do I have to tell you?"
"Yes!"
"Then come here; I'm not going to shout it for the world to hear." George pulled me closer and cupped a hand to my ear. "He asked me if you were a good fuck."
"What?!?"
"Shh!!! I told you that you didn't want to know!"
"And what, may I ask, did you tell him?"
"I said I didn't know because I bloody well don't. I have to go, Ella, luv. It's getting really late."
One tight hug and rushed kiss, and he started his own journey home.
Sneaking up to bed without setting off Mum was a task in itself. I heard Alex downstairs covering for me saying that I had come home ages ago. His story must have flown with her because no further questions were asked and she didn't come to scold me.
Thanks, Alex.
---***---
Saturday at seven A.M., I had to shower, dress and force down breakfast. As usual, I teased Alex about the way he looked in his dapper black suit.
"You look like a penguin."
"Well, you look like an ogre, but do you see me complaining?"
"You bratty little..."
"Your earrings, Natalie," he whispered in a sing-song voice.
"Ugh! You are the biggest nerd ever invented!" I muttered, storming away.
What was up with my mum that morning is beyond me. She only found one reason to fuss at me, and that was because my hair looked, and I quote, "atrocious." Unfortunately, by her standards, I'm still not old enough to fix my own hair, so Mum did for me. I was dragged to the bathroom, where she twisted and knotted it with incredible dexterity into an intricate bun at the back of my head.
"There, now don't you dare go messing about with that, and put on a sweater; it's cold as the dickens outside," she ordered, patting my back to hurry me along. Deciding against the sweater because my mother's definition of cold was anything under the warmest summer temperature, I went back to the stairs meeting up with my father midway.
"Ay-up, Ella! You look nice, luv."
"Ta, Daddy, um, when are we leaving?"
Glancing at his watch, he said, "Oh, in a quarter hour or so. Ready?"
"I think so. I'll be outside when the lot of you are finished."
"Aye, a'right and you might want a sweater, la."
Rolling my eyes, I ran back upstairs and dug around in my reorganized dresser for my white cardigan. It is a bit chilly, I realized when I skipped out the front door. The neighbor's house cat, Calie, was meowing loudly on their front steps, but when she saw me, came ambling over making even more noise.
"Hush up, furball!" I scolded, scratching her arched back. Her silky black fur which used to stick up in an ungainly manner was smoothed down and she had a collar on: the effects of empty nest syndrome on Mrs. Oliver. The Olivers had two twin daughters who had both married and left home recently. Mrs. Oliver started taking on an extra work load simply to replace the motherly duties she had lost. Alex came outside to retrieve me and we departed for the Brierly Methodist Church in South Yorkshire, a tortuously long ninety minute drive when you're with your family. I'd only been to one other wedding before and that was before I could have any memory of the events. Not being one to cry or get all emotional, I didn't very much like the actual service itself. Afterwards at the reception was what I looked forward to. Amanda was hard to reach because she always had a following of grown-ups and bridesmaids to whom you are about as important as dirt. When I did get the chance to speak with her, it was brief.
"Ella! You came! Oh, I'm so glad to see you!" she said, hugging me despite her billowing gown and the elegant flower wreath surrounding her head.
"Naturally, did you think I'd miss something as big as my favorite cousin's wedding?"
"How was I supposed to know I was your favorite cousin?"
"You know now, don't you? It looks like your procession is getting restless, though, so I'd better go. Congratulations, Amanda," I finished with a smile.
"Ta, Ella! I love you!" she called after me as the swarm of people surrounded her once again.
After finding Alex, I decided there was no one better to have as company, so I stuck with him.
"I wanna go home. This is boring," he whined.
"Join the club. Where are Mum and Dad?"
"If I knew that, we wouldn't be stuck here."
We were outside the dining area of the reception hall. Most likely, the people we were looking for were mingled somewhere in the massive fleet of dull adults. In short, Alex and I were like two peas crushed in the mattresses of the mature world: no one noticed us and we were being squashed to a pulp by tedium. To relieve our inferiority complex, we went outside to watch the ducks float across the pond, not bothered by the events taking place oh so close to their home. Since it isn't physically possible for a boy to sit still, Alex skipped the few flat rocks that he found along the shore. Mum's gonna kill him if he ruins that suit, I thought. Even while I was watching Alex, I had my eye on a particularly inviting tree, which practically screamed, CLIMB ME! No matter how difficult it was, I resisted the temptation. Soon enough, our father came out in search of us. As a trio, we looked for my mother. Since she was such a social butterfly, it took a while to locate her amidst the herds. At long last, we were going home! Both of we peas fell asleep on the way home.
