CHAPTER FIVE

 

When I got out of my bedroom in the morning, Paul and Ringo were already in the common room eating breakfast.

 

“Good morning.”, I said sitting next to Paul reaching for a piece of toast.

 

“Alice, look, about the barney last night,”, Paul started, ever the PR man, “John isn’t too keen about reporters.  He was drunk and angry….”

 

“And jealous….”, Ringo muttered.

 

Paul and I stared at Ringo.  Paul’s stare was one of reprimand, my was one of surprise.

 

“What?”, Ringo asked looking at us with his blue eyes open wide, with a piece of toast in one ring filled hand, and the butter knife in the other.

 

“Jealous?”, I asked, “Of me? Impossible.  Come on, he can have any woman he wants.  What can he possibly see in me?”

 

Ringo looked at me amused.

 

“I need a cup of coffee.”, I said flustered as I reached for the coffee pot.

 

I stood up with the cup of coffee at hand and sat on the love seat at the balcony, and lit up a cigarette.  I needed to think.

 

“You’re orange juice milady.”, a man with an aristocratic English accent said to me.

 

I turned around and it was John impersonating a butler, with a towel hanging from his left arm and holding a glass of orange juice in his right hand. I glared at him. His sheepish smile made me feel sorry for him. It made me soften my stare.

 

“Thank you.  Just put it on the table.”, I replied softly.

 

John put the drinking glass on the table and sat next to me.   His face was worth a million bucks.   He looked like a little kid who knows he has done something wrong, but doesn’t know how to fix it.

 

“Anything else, madam?”, he asked in his fake posh accent.

 

“No. Thanks John.”, I smiled weakly.

 

He stood up and sat with Paul and Ringo. George was already up too.  I stared at John from the distance, and caught him staring at me.  He gave me a weak smile, I blushed and looked away, taking a sip from the orange juice he brought me. 

 

It always bothered me how skeptical I’ve become towards men.  I sometimes wished I could believe in love like I did when I was younger. But I was afraid of getting hurt.  Sometimes I feared I was turning into a romance Scrooge.  Anytime someone did something romantic for me or mentioned some romantic experience to me, I just thought, ‘Bah! Humbug!  Why waste your time falling in love when you always end up with your heart broken?’

 

That afternoon I met with Al to have lunch.  We agreed to meet at the hotel restaurant.  It would be hard for me to get out of the hotel and even harder to get in.

 

When I got to the hotel lobby, Al was waiting for me sitting on a sofa.

 

“Hi there.”, he said standing up as soon as he saw me.

 

“Hi”, I answered, “Look, about yesterday night…”

 

“No, Alice, there is no need to apologize.  John was drunk, and if anyone has to apologize it’s him.”

 

“Yeah, but I feel bad about what happened anyway.”

 

“Let’s forget about that and have a nice lunch, shall we?”

I sighed as I shrugged my shoulders and nodded.

 

When we entered the restaurant it was empty.  I thought it was due to security issues.

 

The maitre’d looked kind of familiar.  This was an Italian restaurant and he didn’t look that Italian to me.  He led us to our table.  As we were waiting for the waiter, I stared at Al cautiously.  I never imagined he was so handsome when he was young.  Dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes, very defined nose, and a killer smile.  He looked great in his black suit.  If I found a way to go back to 2005, I would never look at Al the same way again.

 

“Excuse me sir.”, said the waterboy with the strange scousy Italian accent.  As he poured our water, he looked at me with the corner of his eyes.

 

Then it dawned on me, it was George!  I tried to hide my laughter. 

 

“What’s so funny?”, Al asked when the waterboy left.

 

“That waterboy is George.”, I whispered.

 

“Really?  George Harrison?”, he said with a stifled laugh, “That’s really cute.  They like you.”

 

“Yeah, or they’re really bored.”

 

Then the maitre’d appeared with the waiter.  It was Paul and Ringo.  But, where was John?  I was afraid he would be the chef!  Who knows what he would put in our food!

 

“We’re dead pleased of having you as our customers today.  Would you like some wine, sir?”, maitre’d Paul asked.

 

Dead pleased? Now, what kind of scouse Italian did this maitre’d talk?

 

“What do you suggest?”, Al asked.

 

Paul gave Al a blank stare for a few minutes.

 

“Scotch-a and-a Coke-a”, Ringo said with the funniest phoniest Italian accent you have ever heard.

 

I couldn’t hold the laughter anymore.

 

” I know it’s you! Paul and Ringo!”, I laughed.

 

“What gave us away?”, Ringo laughed, “Was it my accent?”

 

“We’ll let you know when we decide.”, Al said.

 

“No problem sir.”, George said bringing a bottle of red wine.

 

“What’s this?”, I asked.

 

“The man sitting at the corner invites you.”, George said struggling with his phony Italian accent.

 

“You don’t have to struggle with your accent anymore, she knows it’s us.”, Ringo whispered.

 

“Oh Good!”, George sighed in relief, trying to open the bottle of wine.

 

I looked at the corner, and there he was, the missing Beatle, John.  Sitting alone, staring at me, with his elbows on the table, his fingers intertwined, with a glass of wine, and a bowler hat on his head. 

 

I nodded at him holding up the glass of wine, he held up his and nodded too.

 

“When you’re ready to order, let us know.”, Ringo said handing us the menus.

 

Al and I decided to have lasagna.

 

While we were eating I couldn’t stop looking at John from the corner of my eye, he was also staring at me. 

 

“I think John likes you.”, Al whispered between bites.

 

“Huh? Oh no, why me? He can have the most beautiful women he wants.”, I answered trying to sound nonchalant.

 

“Well, I think he likes you, and likes you a lot.”,  Al smiled, “And I am a man, I should know.”

 

“Um, thank you?”, was the only thing I figured out to say.

 

The lasagna was delicious, I was sure no Beatle had to do with the food.

 

“I’m going to powder my nose.”, I said standing up.

 

“Sure.”

 

As I washed my hands in the bathroom I got close to the mirror just in case I heard some noise. Nothing.  Since I arrived to 1965, I always listened to the mirrors to see if I heard something.  But until now, nothing.

 

When I stepped out of the bathroom somebody grabbed me by the arm.

 

“Did you like the wine?”, John whispered.

 

“Yes.  Thank you very much.  You have very good taste in wine.”

 

“I have very good taste in lots of things.”, John said with a sly grin.

 

I couldn’t help  but smile.

 

“Got you smiling ‘ey?”, John said walking me against the wall, and putting my hands upon the wall over my head.

 

He was so close to me I could feel his warm breath and the faint cigarette smell faint in his breath and clothes.

 

As he approached me my heart started pounding faster.  I could feel his lips barely touching mine. His tongue gingerly touching my lips, looking for its way inside my mouth.  I felt butterflies in my stomach.

 

This was the moment any girl dreamed of!  John was kissing me!  But wait, not like this, not now, not this easy.  Alice you just can’t let him sweep you off your feet like he does with any girl.

 

“John no.”, I said moving my face to the side.

 

“Why not? Don’t you like it?”

 

“Al must be wondering where I am.”

 

“Forget about Al.”

 

“John.”, I said.

 

“Yees.”, he said in a sing song voice.

 

“I gotta go.”

 

“You do?”, John asked with a grin as he caressed my lips with his fingers.

 

“You’re really persistent aren’t you?”, I said taking his hand away from my lips.

 

John just laughed softly.

 

Why didn’t he just tell me he liked me?  The writing was on the wall.

 

“You know, I…”, John started.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With the worst timing in the world Ringo appeared, and John immediately let go of my arms.

 

“I thought you left.”, Ringo said.

 

“No.  I’m here.  And if I was lost, John found me.”, I said giving John a knowing stare.

 

If looks could kill, John would have murdered Ringo with his stare right now.

 

Now it was Ringo that gave me a knowing stare. “You know, that Al bloke is waiting for you.”

 

“Yeah, I know.”, I said finally able to walk to the table, “See ya later John.”