April 4^th 1965

 

George kicked his shoes off and put his feet up on the coffee table, wiggling his toes in front of the fire. He rested his mug of hot chocolate on the arm of the sofa and slouched down in his seat to watch Z Cars. Better be a good one, he thought.

 

George took a sip of his chocolate and smiled to himself, feeling contented. It felt like the first time in months he had had the chance just to sit down, relax and watch the TV. No friends coming round, no one ringing on the phone, even Pattie was out for the evening.

 

Biscuits! That’s what I need! George thought, jumping up as the credit sequence started.

 

In the kitchen he found half a packet of custard creams and was heading back to the sofa as the doorbell rang.

 

George stopped, halfway between the living room and the kitchen, indecisively wondering whether to answer the door or pretend no one was home. With an overly dramatic sigh, George altered his course and walked towards the door, grumbling the whole way. “Who the fuck… this time of night… Better not be selling somat…”

 

He opened the door a small gap, over cautiously putting his foot behind it to stop any crazed fan forcing her way in.

 

So, at first, he didn’t see her.

 

Only the rain; less of an April shower, more of an April monsoon.

 

George opened the door wider and peered round.

 

Grace stood to the side of the door, her face hidden under the hood of her red coat.

 

“Grace,” George said flatly. Grace had practically moved in the past few weeks, the amount of time she’d spent ‘visiting’ Pattie.

 

“Is Pattie home?” Grace said, not looking up, the rain pouring in a steady stream off the top of her hood.

 

“No,” George said, leaning on the doorjamb, “She’s gone to a charity dinner tonight. I think it’s for a kid’s home. Battersea. Oh no, that’s dogs, isn’t…” George’s voice trailed off as Grace lifted her head up to look at him, “Bloody hell, girl…” he said.

 

Her left eye was yellow and purple, almost swollen shut. Her bottom lip was split and she had a red bruise on her right cheek.

 

“I forgot she was out tonight,” Grace said quietly, “Could you tell her I was here?” Grace turned to leave.

 

George leaned out and caught her arm, “Wait, Grace, what the hell happened to you?”

 

Grace turned back to him, avoiding his eyes, “I… Uh, had an accident.”

 

“No kiddin’,” George said. She looked up at him, her fringe plastered against her forehead by the rain. On the television inside the house George could hear the sirens of an exciting police chase. He opened the door, “Why don’t you wait a while?” he said, “You might drown in this rain.”

 

Grace looked like she might argue, but then she nodded and walked past him into the bungalow. George closed the door as Grace took her dripping coat off in the hall.

 

“Could I use your bathroom?” she asked.

 

George nodded, “I’ll put the kettle on.”

 

 

Grace looked almost normal after she had washed her face, apart from her eye. She sat on the edge of the sofa as George brought in the teapot and mugs, mournfully looking at his now stone cold hot chocolate. “Custard cream?” he offered, as he moved it out of the way and sat down next to her.

 

She took a biscuit but instead of eating it, sat holding it, staring.

 

“Are you alright?” George asked.

 

Grace nodded.

 

“How did you… do that?” he said, indicting to her eye.

 

“I… fell,” Grace said falteringly.

 

“From where?” George said sceptically, “A third floor window?”

 

Big teardrops started to roll down Grace’s cheeks. George put his hand on her leg lightly, “Don’t cry, I’m sorry,” he said gently, “I was just kidding, its only my…”

 

“It’s not you,” Grace said breathlessly, “Oh, George!” She turned her body towards him and surprising him, flung her arms around his neck.

 

George rubbed her back as she cried into his shoulder, “Shush, Grace, what’s wrong?”

 

“It’s such a mess,” Grace cried, leaning back to see George but keeping her arms resting on his shoulders.

 

“It’ll go,” George said, innocently.

 

Grace smiled, “Oh George, you always know how to make me laugh,” she said, her sobbing subsiding, “It’s Roger, I mean.” She took her arms from around him and clasped her hands in her lap, looking down at them as she talked, “We had another argument. I suppose I shouldn’t be talking to you about this but… I hoped Pattie would be here…”

 

“An argument?” George asked, as the penny dropped.

 

Grace nodded, “It got out of hand…”

 

“Jesus, Grace…”

 

“It was all my fault really. I don’t think he’s gonna have me back, now.”

 

“He did this to you?” George lifted her chin up gently so he could see her bruises in the light.

 

“No, well, yes, but I pushed him to it. He didn’t mean it. I…”

 

“Love, it doesn’t matter what you did, it doesn’t warrant this,” George said emphatically.

 

Grace turned away from George and started to cry again. George offered her a tissue from the box on the table. She took one and wiped her eyes. George bit his lip, unsure what to say. “What did you argue about?” he asked eventually.

 

“I can’t tell you,” Grace said quietly, and then looked back at George, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

George nodded understandingly. “Shall I get the police?” he suggested.

 

A look of horror crossed Grace’s face, “What? Why?”

 

“You can’t let him get away with this. It’s assault…”

 

“Oh. No, no police.”

 

“Grace, if he does it once, what’ll stop him from doing it again?” Grace turned away, putting her hand over her mouth. George straightened his back. “He’s done it before,” he said sternly.

 

Grace nodded.

 

“Then, surely, you can see why you have to report this.”

 

Grace shook her head. “I can’t,” she whispered.

 

George stood up. He came round so he was facing Grace and knelt down in front of her. “You’re not to go back to him,” he said firmly, “You can stay here with us for a while and we’ll help you. We’ll get you a flat somewhere.”

 

“Thank you,” Grace said quietly, looking down at her hands again.

 

George reached out to her and put his hands over hers. “It’s alright now,” he said, “It’s over.”

 

Grace looked up at him. “That night,” she said, her voice breaking, “When I met you… That’s when it happened first. It wasn’t as bad as this but… He said he wouldn’t do it again, George…”

 

George squeezed her hands, feeling her heart breaking. “Grace, he won’t do it again,” he said, and then standing up added, “I promise you that.”

 

George walked out to the hall; Grace followed him, catching up with him as he was putting his coat on.

 

“Where are you going?” she said.

 

“Don’t worry,” George said, “I’m just gonna have a word with him.”

 

“No, George, you can’t…”

 

“Yeah, well, we’ll see how he does against someone more his own size.”

 

George turned to leave but Grace caught hold of his arm. “Please, George, don’t, you’ll make it worse.”

 

George stopped, “Grace…”

 

“He’s very jealous, he’ll go off his head! George,” Grace ran her hand down his arm and into his hand, “It was all over you.”

 

“Me?”

 

She nodded.

 

“What have I got to do with it? I’ve never even met the fella.”

 

“I know. He’s got it into his head we’re having some kind of affair.”

 

“But… that’s just stupid,” George said.

 

Grace stepped backwards, leading George back to the living room. “So you see, if you go round there, I don’t know what he might do. What he might do to you, George.”

 

George cocked his head, “I can take care of myself,” he said defensively.

 

“Yes, I know you can,” Grace said, “but he’s not worth it. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you and it was my fault.”

 

George sighed, “Alright,” he said, “but I still think you should do… something, about him, Grace. I’m sure Pattie will tell you the same when she hears.”

 

“Oh,” Grace said, dropping George’s hands. She perched on the edge of the sofa again.

 

“What?” George asked.

 

She looked up at him, “Do you think you might not tell Pattie?”

 

“Why?” George took his coat off again, flinging it on to another chair. “I thought that’s what you came here to do?”

 

“It is,” Grace replied, “I mean, I will tell her that I broke up with Roger and everything, but I just don’t want to tell her why.”

 

“Why?” George repeated.

 

“Because he thought me and you were… you know?”

 

George frowned, “But…”

 

“I know she hasn’t said anything to you, but Pattie’s almost accused me of the same.”

 

“What?” George said. He came and sat down on the sofa next to Grace. “She’s what?”

 

“Well, not in so many words,” Grace turned so her body was facing George, “but she’s very jealous, George. Haven’t you noticed?”

 

“No…” George said.

 

Grace nodded sympathetically, “She knows it’s silly, that’s why she’s never mentioned it to you. She’s always saying so and so is trying to steal George, or she thinks you like such and such.”

 

“And she’s said that to you?”

 

“Yes. I know she doesn’t mean it, but she’s always ‘warning me off ’.”

 

“But, Grace, I hardly even see you, it’s Pattie you spend time with…”

 

Grace laughed, “I know, that’s what I keep telling her! So I can’t tell her Roger thought the same thing, she would just see that as ‘evidence’.”

 

George nodded, “Perhaps I should have a word with her…” he said.

 

“No, don’t do that, George, you’d only upset her.”

 

George pursed his lips, “That’s very odd,” he said thoughtfully, “Y’know, both your fella and Pattie thinking the same thing. What have we done to encourage that?”

 

“I don’t know,” Grace smiled.

 

“It’s not like we go out together or anything.”

 

“The doctors, and the hospital appointments.”

 

“But that’s been – what? Three times in as many months?”

 

Grace shrugged, “That’s what Roger thought.”

 

George grinned, “He doesn’t think I’ve got much class, does he? Of course, I always take the girls I’ve got on the side to hospitals! Nothing more romantic!’ He laughed.

 

“Where do you take them?” Grace said.

 

“Oi,” George said, warningly.

 

“Are there… many?” she said coyly, leaning on her hand.

 

George sat back in the sofa, resting his left foot on his right knee, “What makes you think there’s been any?”

 

“Pattie’s suspicious. Where there’s smoke…”

 

George shook his head slowly.

 

“Ah, come on, George,” Grace leaned back, level with him. “You’ve got hundreds of girls throwing themselves at you on a daily basis!”

 

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

 

“Is it?”

 

George laughed, “There’s no one,” he said, “Not since Pattie and me moved here.”

 

“Really?” Grace said dubiously. She rested her head on the back of the sofa.

 

George smiled and looked away, “Yes…” he said, then glancing sideways at her, added, “Like I would tell you, anyway? Pattie’s best friend?”

 

Grace smiled, “You can trust me, Georgie.” George turned his head away. Grace leaned round to see him, “Are you blushing?” she asked teasingly.

 

“No,” George said, grinning despite himself.

 

Grace put her hand on his cheek and moved his head back to face her. George let her. She laughed, “You are!”

 

George leaned back from her, shaking his head, feeling the heat in his cheeks.

 

“I thought you rock stars were supposed to be unashamedly decadent and promiscuous?” Grace teased, placing her hand on George’s shoulder, “And here you are, blushing like a school boy!”

 

“Hey, there’s not much of the schoolboy about me!” George said.

 

“No, I bet there isn’t…” Grace said, moving her hand down to rest on George’s thigh. She put her other hand up to the side of his head and leaned in, her lips meeting his lightly, and then kissing him tenderly.

 

George didn’t move but he didn’t stop her.

 

The programme on the television suddenly dropped silent and all he could here was the rain beating against the windowpanes.

 

Grace took a deep breath and kissed him harder, more frantically. George felt her fingers pulling at his shirt buttons.

 

The Z Cars detective on the television declared, “He won’t be doing that where he’s going” and George came to his senses.

 

He pushed Grace away from him as she undid his last button.

 

“I… can’t,” he said hesitantly.

 

Grace recoiled from him, moving to the opposite end of the sofa. “I’m sorry,” she said in a half whisper. George sat up, buttoning his shirt. “I should have known someone like me wouldn’t want… someone like… me.”

 

“It’s not you,” George said, looking down at himself, wondering how he had managed to get so undressed in such little time.

 

“Especially looking like this,” Grace said, indicating to her bruises.

 

George looked up, “Oh no, Grace, it’s not that I don’t like you, or don’t… want to…” he put his hand on hers, hoping it would be interpreted at reassuring and nothing else. “It just wouldn’t be right. You’re Pattie’s friend and…” his voice trailed off.

 

“Yes, of course,” Grace said, she stood up, “I should leave.”

 

“No, don’t Grace,” George stood too, “Please.”

 

Grace reeled round to him, “You’re so beautiful, George. You could have any woman you wanted. Why would you want…”

 

George put his hands out to steady her, “No,” he said, “Grace, I think you’re very… attractive. If it wasn’t for Pattie I would be with you in a second.”

 

Grace quietened, “Really?” she asked simply.

 

“Yes,” George told her. It was intended as a white lie but he was surprised to find it felt truthful.

 

“I’ve spoilt everything now, haven’t I?” Grace said, “You’ll tell Pattie and she’ll hate me. It’s just you were so nice to me, after Roger…”

 

George shook his head earnestly,  “No, you haven’t. We can pretend it didn’t happen. Pattie doesn’t need to know.”

 

“She doesn’t?”

 

“No. We haven’t done anything, really. A kiss. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.”

 

Grace flopped down in the sofa, “Oh Georgie, I can’t ask you to lie to her.”

 

“I won’t be,” George sat next to her again, “I’ll just not say anything at all.”

 

Grace looked at him, “Are you sure?”

 

“Yes,” George said firmly.

 

Grace put her arms around him again. “Thank you, George,” she whispered and let go of him, “I’m just feeling so… mixed up. It’s been quite a night.”

 

“Yeah,” George smiled ruefully, “You’re bound to be.”

 

The credits for the end of Z Cars began to run.