The Evening of
November 3rd 1965
George idly swirled the
last drop of rum in the bottom of his glass and wondered what time it was. The
inside of the bar was dark and without windows, so really it could be anytime
at all. George had arrived at one; around the same time the other Beatles were
forcing their way in to BrianÕs office, and had set about drinking so he would
forget about the meeting he was missing, about Grace and whatever was happening
with her, about Pattie. Or if he couldnÕt forget, at least he wouldnÕt care
anymore.
Must be early evening, George concluded. The place was starting to fill up.
There was a band setting up on the small stage at the opposite end of the room.
George leaned against the bar, wishing for a stool. He swallowed the last of
his drink and indicated to the barmaid to refill it. She gave him a considering
look but then poured him another measure of rum and added more ice.
ÒTa,Ó George said. The
girl left.
The bar was called ÔThe
CrossroadsÕ. It was in Soho, not even all that far from the NEMS offices.
George had been there a couple of times before, once with the other Beatles and
once with Pattie. It was a blues club, but opened as a pub in the day.
ÒUh, hello?Ó said someone
from the stage into the microphone. ÒUh, weÕre The Chain, thanks.Ó
People clapped and the
singer began strumming his guitar, a standard twelve bar blues and a song about
a lost lover. They werenÕt the best band in the world, but they were playing
the right music to accompany GeorgeÕs mood. At the end of the tune he clapped
loudly, and the rest of the audience joined him.
Then he saw her.
She could have been there
for hours - perhaps all day, though George doubted it. She was sitting with her
sister, her sisterÕs boyfriend and a man that George didnÕt recognise. He felt
his blood rise and the adrenaline flowed through him, prompting him to do
something, but what, George didnÕt know. He stood ambivalently, a hundred
emotions and a hundred options presenting themselves to him simultaneously.
He wanted to go over
there and Ð what? Act casual? Act jealous? Apologise and beg her forgiveness?
Or should he just turn and run before she even saw him?
Instead, he did none of
these. Instead, he swallowed all of the rum in one and turned back to the bar,
pointing for the barmaid to refill it. To drink until he was numb was GeorgeÕs
objective, and seemingly, he still had a distance to go to reach that.
ÒI think youÕve had
enough,Ó the barmaid said, nervously.
ÒI think IÕll decide when
IÕve had enough,Ó George snapped back at her, fixing her with stern eyes,
rolled into the top of his head as if he was looking through his eyebrows.
ÒOne more, then,Ó she
said feebly. ÒBut thatÕs the last.Ó
She refilled the glass
and backed away from George. George thought he might have scared her a little
and felt a twinge of regret.
ÒHello George,Ó she said
in that soft, velveteen voice that had always sent shivers down his spine.
George reeled around.
Perhaps the rum had taken more effect than he had thought, because for the
briefest of moments, he had forgotten Pattie was just across the room.
ÒHi,Ó George said, trying
to act relaxed and knowing he was failing.
ÒI thought I would say
hello,Ó Pattie said, looking at her feet. ÒIt would be stupid of us to ignore each
other, wouldnÕt it?Ó
George nodded. Come
home.
ÒHow have you been?Ó
ÒAlright,Ó he said,
forcing the word past the lump in his throat. ÒYou?Ó
ÒYeah, fine.Ó
An awkward pause.
ÒWell, IÕll see you
around,Ó Pattie stepped away from him. She looked sad, sorry, perhaps.
ÒNo, wait,Ó George said. Please
donÕt go.
Pattie looked at him
expectantly.
ÒTalk to me for a bit,Ó
he asked.
Pattie sighed and pursed
her lips. ÒWho are you here with?Ó
ÒNo one.Ó
ÒWhereÕsÉ whereÕs Grace.Ó
IÕm sorry.
ÒI know youÕre living
with her, George,Ó Pattie added.
ÒI donÕt know. At home, I
guess.Ó Redecorating our house.
Wiping you out of it. Slitting her wrists.
ÒOh.Ó
ÒWho are you here with?Ó
ÒJennie and her
boyfriend,Ó Pattie waved her hand towards them.
ÒAnd?Ó George knew he
shouldnÕt have asked. What possible answer could she give him that wouldnÕt
torture him?
ÒNo one you know. A
friend of mine,Ó Pattie said offhand, in such a way George knew he was more
than that. It was how Pattie had introduced George to her ex-fiancŽe, just
before she had left him for George.
ÒIÉ I saw Help the other
day,Ó Pattie was still avoiding his eyes. George took a step closer to her.
Pattie stepped backwards.
ÒWhat did you think?Ó Come
back to me.
ÒItÕs good. ItÕs funny.
RingoÕs brilliant.Ó
ÒYeah, RingoÕs always
brilliant.Ó
Pattie smiled. George
looked away.
ÒI readÉ I read youÕve
all been arguing. In the papers, theyÕre saying The Beatles are breakingÉÓ
ÒBreaking up?Ó George
snapped, angrily. ÒWhat if we are?Ó
ÒOh no,Ó Pattie said,
sincerely, gently. ÒI was hoping it wasÉ ItÕs a shame.Ó
ÒA fuckinÕ shame.Ó
ÒWhy? CanÕt youÉ Is it
becauseÉÓ
ÒWhat? Over you? You and
that bastard, McCartney?Ó
ÒI should be goingÉÓ
Pattie turned. George caught her arm.
ÒYou think we would split
up over some tart? YouÕve a pretty high fuckinÕ opinion of yourself, havenÕt
you?Ó
ÒNoÉÓ
ÒI never liked you that
much anyway,Ó George spat. ÒYou think I havenÕt had a hundred girls while we
were together? And dÕyou think your little affair with Paul means that much to
me?Ó
Tears sprang PattieÕs
eyes. She wouldnÕt look at him. She prised his fingers from her forearm.
ÒYouÕre hurting me,Ó she mumbled.
George hardly heard her,
ÒI better off without you, you lying, scheming bitchÉÓ
ÒGeorge!Ó Pattie cried
out, with such pain George instantly let go of her. Hot tears were running down
her face now, mascara leaving black trails from her eyes.
ÒIÕm sorry,Ó George said.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
ÒYouÕre drunk.Ó
Jennie appeared by her
side, cradling her under her arm. ÒDonÕt you think youÕve made her cry enough
yet?Ó Jennie said. ÒLeave her alone, George, before I fetch someone.Ó
Pattie.
Jennie led Pattie away,
disappearing into the crowd that had appeared from nowhere. The band finished
itÕs song and everyone clapped. George looked down into his untouched glass in
his hand. He turned back to the bar where the barmaid had been watching him. He
put it down. ÒDonÕt want it,Ó he said to her and headed for the door.