16^th November 1965   9.16pm

 

 

“Do something, Ringo!” Pattie cried.

 

Ringo looked at John and Paul, wrestling and skidding around the polished wood floor, and then back at Pattie.

 

“Stop them!” she prompted.

 

Ringo bit his bottom lip and reached into the rabble of Beatles. He took hold of John under his arms and pulled him up, off of Paul, with all his strength. John fought against him, but Ringo put all his weight behind it and forced John to stand against the wall.

 

Paul remained on the floor, wiping blood from his mouth onto the back of his hand.

 

“Damn thug!” he spat, as Pattie knelt down beside him.

 

John lunged towards Paul again, but Ringo stood his ground, pushing him back. “You fucking liar, McCartney!” John bellowed. “You even had me believing you.”

 

“Leave him, John,” Ringo said, still holding him back.

 

“I’ll give you more than a thick lip!” John threatened, trying to lean past Ringo.

 

“I said stop it!” Ringo said, mustering all his strength and shoving John, back, into the wall so that the pictures rattled.

 

“Thanks, Rich,” Paul said.

 

Ringo turned away from John, fixing Paul with a cold stare, “Don’t you thank me,” he said slowly. “Don’t you ever say anything to me ever again, Paul!”

 

Paul was speechless for a moment, but then he struggling to his feet, “This is not what it looks like…”

 

Ringo shook his head at him and pushed John towards the door. “C’mon.”

 

“No, wait, I’ll explain…” Paul said rushing to the doorway behind them.

 

“Should have let me punch him,” John said, loud enough for Paul to hear as they walked away.

 

“Let them go,” Pattie said, gently, closing the door.

 

“Fuck,” Paul said, then looking at Pattie, “Oh, sorry.”

 

Pattie smiled thinly. “You see why I wanted you to tell them? What if Jane came home now too? What would she think?”

 

“Oh don’t,” Paul said. The thought made him turn cold. He put the back of his hand to his mouth again. His lip had stopped bleeding but it still throbbed. “Anyway, you know why I haven’t told them, because George doesn’t want them to know about… it.”

 

“Well, that’s stupid,” Pattie told him and taking his hand led him to the kitchen. “They’d have to be blind, deaf and simple not to know what’s going on. Or at least jump to the same conclusions that George did.” She ran a cloth under the cold tap and handed it to Paul.  He pressed it against his lip, cautiously.

 

“Well, I will,” Paul replied. “I’ll tell Jane tomorrow, as soon as she gets home, and then…”

 

“And then what? It’s a bit late to tell John and Ringo now.”

 

“I’ll call them and explain,” Paul said, not liking the prospect already.

 

Pattie nodded and joined him at the table. “They’re just angry,” she said. “They’ll listen to you once they’ve calmed down.” Paul looked at her. “Well, Ringo, at least,” she added. “Shall I… put the kettle on?”

 

Paul shook his head, “I’ll do it. You can tell me what you know.”

 

A broad smile appeared on Pattie’s face.

 

“Good news?” Paul asked, filling the kettle.

 

Pattie nodded, enthusiastically. “I had a very interesting lunch today.”

 

Paul smiled, but that made his lip ache, so he stopped, and put the kettle on the heat. “Well?” he asked, sitting at the table again.

 

“You were right. Brian hasn’t been to the offices for weeks. Months probably. Most of the staff have been replaced, and Annie, this girl – she’s Michael Archer’s receptionist now – she gave me the address.”

 

“Really?” Paul said, brightening up.

 

“Yes, she was a bit worried about Archer finding out, but I said you’d make sure her job was safe.”

 

Paul pouted, “I don’t know if I can do that…” he said, dubiously.

 

“Yeah, well, she doesn’t know that,” Pattie smiled. Paul laughed as the kettle whistled.

 

“So, the address?” Paul said, looking for a tea towel to wrap around the kettle’s handle.

 

“Yes,” Pattie took a small, folded piece of paper from her handbag and unfolded it, smoothing it on the tabletop.

 

Paul came over with the tea and looked over her shoulder.  “Where on earth is that?” he said.

 

“South Lanarkshire.”

 

“Scotland?” Paul said, putting the cups down. “Brian’s all the way up there?”

 

“I hope so,” Pattie said, folding the paper up. “Annie said it was an exclusive, private…” her voice trailed off.

 

“What?” Paul asked.

 

“Hospice,” Pattie said. “She said it was a hospice, not a hospital.”

 

Paul frowned. “So, looks like its true then,” he said solomly. Pattie nodded. Paul sat, “Still, I can’t believe if Brian were… y’know, that he wouldn’t have said anything to us.”

 

“Annie also said George had been in the office today,” Pattie said quietly.

 

Paul rubbed the back of his neck, “Really?”

 

“He wanted to see Brian too, apparently,” Pattie replied flatly. “Had to make do with Archer.”

 

“Well, that’s hopeful,” Paul said, trying to sound encouraging. “Don’t worry, Pattie. George’ll… be back to his old self in no time. You’ll see.”

 

Pattie nodded and put her head down, and it took a moment for Paul to realise there were tears in her eyes. “Oh, hey,” he said softly, leaning his arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

 

“No, its not you,” Pattie sniffed. “It’s…” She forced a smile, “you’d think I’d be over the crying at the drop of a hat stage, by now.”

 

Paul smiled, “Its alright.” He stood and offered her the box of tissues from the top of the fridge.

 

“The last time I saw George, he was so… so nasty,” she said, and although Pattie had told Paul this story at least twice before, he sat and listened patiently. “He’s not like he used to be at all.”

 

“No,” Paul agreed. “But Pats, there’s all sorts of things running through his mind. He doesn’t know what to think. He’s just lashing out. He doesn’t mean it.”

 

“I hope you’re right.”

 

So do I, Paul thought but nodded firmly and said, “I’m sure. What we need to do is get hold of these letters, I’m supposed to have written.”

 

Pattie nodded. “George had them with him when we… split up. I wish I’d looked at them, but… I didn’t think.” 

 

“Tomorrow then,” Paul said, “We’ll drive up to this hospice and find Brian. I’m sure he can’t know what’s been going on. If he comes home with us, then he can sort this mess out, talk some sense into George and find out who this Grace girl really is.”

 

“No,” Pattie said. “You can’t go. You have to stay here and talk to Jane and John and Ringo. Before something gets back to George.”

 

Paul glanced at his watch. It was nearly ten. “John said George was meant to be coming here too, tonight,” he said thoughtfully.

 

“What?” Pattie said, panicked.

“John and Ringo arrived unannounced, George was meant to be with them apparently.”

 

“I don’t want to see George, Paul. Not yet, anyway.”

 

Paul shook his head. “I doubt he’ll come now,” he promised. “He’s nearly an hour late.” Pattie looked doubtful. “But even if he does, we just won’t answer the door. Or I’ll stop him at the doorstep.”

 

Pattie cast her eyes away, “Well, I should be going soon anyway,” she said.

 

“He won’t come round,” Paul said.

 

“I’ll go to Scotland,” Pattie said, changing the subject.

 

“Alone?” Paul replied, surprised.

 

She nodded. “I’ll find Brian. I’ll at talk to him.”

 

“Okay,” Paul said. “If you’re sure. We could wait, and then I could go.”

 

“No,” Pattie said. “The sooner we find him, the better. I’ll be fine. Paul, have you thought…”

 

“What?”

 

“What if Brian’s too sick to come back to London? What if he really is dying?”

 

Paul shook his head with a conviction that he didn’t truly feel. “Nah, I’m certain, if Brian really was that ill, he would have told us himself. He wouldn’t leave it to some overgrown accountant. And in any case, whatever might have gone on, he wouldn’t not tell his parents and brother. I think I took a couple of years off Queenie’s life, when I rang her!”

 

Pattie smiled, “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.” She stood to leave. “I’d better go and get some beauty sleep if I’m going to be up early tomorrow.”

 

Paul stood up and walked to the door with her, checking paranoically George wasn’t waiting in the street, before he let her out. “Pattie,” he said, as she stepped out. She turned back. “I can’t promise anything, yet,” he said, “but I have a very good feeling that Grace will be out of George’s life very soon.”

 

Pattie put her head on one side, “Why?”

 

“Just something that was said when I saw her last,” Paul replied with a wink.

 

“Take care, Paul,” Pattie said, and kissed his cheek.

 

“Ring me when you find Brian,” Paul said.

 

She nodded, “I’ll call you tomorrow evening, about 6,” she said as she walked down the steps.