17^th November 1965  10.00pm

 

 

Paul sat in the dark of the music room, sipping bitter tasting Scotch from a tumbler glass.

 

“Paul?” Jane called from outside the room, “Are you in here?” She came in, switching the freestanding lamp on. “What are you doing in the dark?”

 

Paul blinked as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the light. “Just thinking.” He was sitting at the piano. Jane came and joined him on the stool, resting her head on his shoulder. He kissed her forehead and sighed.

 

“What are we going to do?” Jane asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Paul replied, feeling as helpless as his words. “I shouldn’t have told that fella George had been arrested.”

 

“He would have found out anyway.”

 

“Yeah, but perhaps after he’d told me what he came to.”

 

“Do you think that’s important?”

 

“Yes. He didn’t come all this way to just say hello.”

 

The phone at the bottom of the stairs began to ring. Jane sighed, “That damn phone. Why don’t you just let me take it off the hook?”

 

“No,” Paul said, untangling himself from their embrace. “It could be important.”

 

“It’ll just be another journalist. I’ll get rid of them,” Jane said.

 

Paul followed her down to the phone, standing behind her as she answered it.

 

“Hello?… Oh, hello, yes, he’s here. Are you okay?” Jane said, glancing round at Paul. “Yes, we’re fine. Paul’s been at the station all day, don’t worry, Pattie… Of course.” She offered the receiver to Paul. “Its Pattie. She wants to speak to you.”

 

Paul took the phone. “Pattie?” he said into it.

 

“Hi,” Pattie said, sounding distant and tired.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

She sighed, “Yes, I’m okay. How are you?”

 

“Tired,” Paul said. “You’ve heard then?”

 

“Not until I’d reached South Lanarkshire, but yes. Paul, I don’t know what to think!”

 

“Yes, you do,” Paul said firmly. “George needs you now, Pattie.”

 

“Well, I’m not so sure about that,” Pattie said, he voice trailing off. “I’m sorry, I’m late in calling you. There were some… delays.”

 

“Where are you?”

 

“In some horrible bed and breakfast, they didn’t seem to recognise me as George’s girlfriend though, so I shouldn’t be bothered by anyone.”

 

“That’s probably a blessing.”

 

“George’s previous girlfriend, I should say,” Pattie added, sadly.

 

Paul bit his lip, looking at Jane. “The police will probably want to talk to you. You should come home first thing tomorrow.”

 

“Oh, I know,” Pattie replied. “I rang Jennie before you and they’ve been round there. She said she didn’t know where I was though. I suppose I’ll hand myself in tomorrow, before they start thinking George has done me in too!”

 

Paul smiled faintly, “Did you… find anything up there?”

 

“I got here about lunchtime. That’s when I heard about George. I stopped in a café for something to eat, and it was on the news on the radio. The waitress must have thought I was crazy. I dropped everything I was carrying and screamed at her to turn it up – but then the news had finished, so the waitress had to tell me what had happened. A complete stranger telling me…” her voice faded again.

 

“Oh Pattie,” Paul said sympathetically. Paul, himself had been woken by the news when Jane had come home, early that morning.

 

“They’ve charged him now, haven’t they?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Poor George.”

 

“I’m going to go back there tomorrow, they wouldn’t let me see him today, but I’ll… I’ll make sure he’s okay, Pattie.”

 

“Thanks Paul, George doesn’t know how lucky he is to have a friend like you.”

 

“I don’t think I’m exactly his favourite person,” Paul said, remembering his bitter encounter with George in the corridor of the police station. He realised John and Ringo must have told him of the events of the previous night. He looked at Jane again, looking back at him anxiously, and decided Pattie didn’t need to hear about that.

 

“It took me all afternoon to find the hospice,” Pattie said.

 

“You still went then?”

 

“I’d driven all the way to Scotland, and… I needed something to take my mind off things.”

 

“Did you see Brian?” Paul said, hardly daring to ask.

 

Pattie sighed, “No. And at first they denied he’d been there, I think they thought I was some reporter or snoop or something. But I was just leaving and a nurse ran up to me in the car park – she’d recognised me. Thank God for Beatle fans, eh?”

 

“Yeah,” Paul said ruefully. “So Brian’s not there anymore?”

 

“No, but he had been. Paul, usually patients only leave hospices one way, but the nurse said Brian was alive. She said he’d gone there a few months ago and stayed up until only a few days day.”

 

“Really? Shit,” Paul swore. “So we’re back to square one?”

 

“No, this is the good part – the only good news all day. The nurse didn’t know why Brian was there, what was wrong with him. She said they hid him away in a private room and only the head matron and one of the doctors were allowed in his room. They had him booked under a false name too; the nurse looked it up, when she saw Brian arriving. She recognised him as your manager!”

 

“So where is he now?”

 

“He’s in… Wales.”

 

“What? One end of the county to the other?”

 

“Yeah. But the nurse managed to sneak into the office at the hospice and get the address for me. I’ve no idea where it is – it’s got a Welsh name I can’t pronounce, it must be some small village somewhere.”

 

“Well, that’s something,” Paul said. “There’s a hope.”

 

“There’s more than a hope,” Pattie said. “It mean’s he’s not dying, Paul!”

 

Paul nodded, “Yes, thank God.”

 

“Perhaps… I should go there tomorrow? Before I come home?”

 

“To Wales? From Scotland? I don’t think that’s a good idea, Pats. The police want to talk to you and George…”

 

“Yeah, I know, but they don’t know where I am yet, and who else is going to be able to go and find Brian? As soon as I get back to London, I won’t be able to go anywhere, and neither will you; we’ll be dealing with George. I could just take a little detour on the way…”

 

“That’s more than a little detour!”

 

“I know, but if I can bring Brian home, he can help George. Michael Archer, in the evening press, says NEMS isn’t having anything to do with it.”

 

“What?”

 

“Haven’t you read it? He says George is no longer represented or associated with them.”

 

“What the hell? That fucking bastard!”

 

Jane, still waiting for Paul, raised her eyebrows in surprise.

 

“Right, okay, Pattie, check out the address if you want to, but call me again when you get there, okay?”

 

“I will. I’m going to sleep now. I’ve never been so tired.”

 

“Alright. Take care, love. I hope you find him.”

 

“So do I. Good night, Paul.” Pattie hung up. Paul replaced the receiver and turned to Jane.

 

She came to him, wrapping her arms around him again. “Pattie’s in Scotland?” she asked. Paul nodded. “What for?”

 

“I was going to tell you this morning, but then… well, you know, and I forgot.”

 

“Tell me what?”

 

“Jane, I should have told you this before… Me and George, you know we’ve… fallen out…”

 

Jane’s body stiffened, and she let go of Paul. “Paul, has this got anything to do with… those rumours?”

 

Paul didn’t reply for a moment, he hadn’t realised Jane knew. She hadn’t mentioned anything before. “Yes,” he managed finally, his throat drying.

 

Tears came to Jane’s eyes, “Oh no,” she whispered. “Paul, they’re not… true?”

 

“No!” Paul said firmly. “Jane, I swear on my life, they’re not!”

 

Jane managed a weak smile as the tears began to run freely down her face. “I was scared to ask you about it…” she said.

 

Paul’s heart broke, this had been exactly what he’d wanted to avoid. He took a step closer to her, his arms out to hold her, but Jane stepped back from him. “Jane, I really need you to believe me, love,” he said. “George got it into his head that I’d been… having some sort of affair with Pattie, but I promise you, it’s not true.”

 

Jane wiped her cheeks, “Why didn’t you tell me all this was going on?”

 

“I didn’t want to upset you,” Paul said helplessly. “I thought it would all blow over. Its such nonsense, I thought George would realise that and it would all be over before I had to tell you.”

 

“But it isn’t?”

 

“Seems not. George’s mind has been poisoned against… well, both of us. Me and Pattie. You should hear some of the things he said to her.”

 

Jane forced a smile. “I didn’t think it could be true,” she said. “I do trust you, Paul.”

 

Paul stepped towards her again, and this time she didn’t move away from him. He held her and kissed the top of her head.

 

“So, by who?” Jane said into his chest.

 

“What?”

 

“Who’s been telling George this?”

 

“Grace,” Paul said quietly.

 

“Really?” Jane said, surprised for a moment. “Well, I guess that makes sense. Why did he believe her though?”

 

“I don’t know,” Paul said. There was no need to tell Jane about the love letters George claimed to have. He felt he’d come close to loosing her this evening, and that revelation might just be too much.

 

“I do love you, Jane, y’know,” Paul said.

 

Jane lifted her head to look at him. She smiled. “Yeah, I know,” she said.