Chapter Three

 

 

He peered down at her, with his small, gray-blue eyes.

 

“No, it’s free.” She expected him to take the chair to another table, but he sat down. She was intrigued by his face, he was so beautiful.

 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

 

“Sure, just a coke please”

 

“Alright, be right back” He got up and went to the bar. Charlotte spied the room and noticed Pete was too busy talking to friends to notice her with a complete stranger who, quite honestly, looked like he had been around. On the outside, he appeared just innocent, but she could tell he was exactly what she wasn’t: experienced. But she felt something, something deep inside her soul, and she couldn’t resist.

 

“Here we go. I’m sorry, I just noticed you from across the room. You’re a pretty girl, I’ll tell you that”

 

“Oh I bet you say that to all the girls.” Charlotte was not stupid

 

“Well of course, except this time I mean it. Your not one of those birds all dolled up, trying to impress. You look good without all that, and you don’t look like you care what other people think. That’s rare, especially in London”

 

“Thanks I guess. What’s you name?”

 

“Brian, Brian Jones”

 

 

“I’m Charlotte Quinn, nice to meet you” She said, starry eyed.

 

“Your Irish, eh? Not a popular thing to be here in Britain.”

 

“So I’ve heard. Yea, from Galway. So you said you’re a regular here?”

 

“Yea, my band plays here four nights a week. We’re getting quite popular, well, we’re no Beatles, but we’re getting there for sure.”

 

“What’s your band’s name?”

 

“The Rolling Stones. I picked the name.” he said proudly.

 

“Hmm, yes, my friend Pete has spoken of you, quite highly I might add”

 

 

“Look, I’ve got to run, we’re due at the Crawdaddy club in half an hour. Could I get your number? I’d love to take you out sometime”

 

Charlotte’s heart raced. He looked to be in his twenties! She was 15! Oh well, she thought. She gave him her number. He left, with his band, and Pete came over.

 

“Who’s that?”

 

“Just some guy.”

 

 

 

Days passed, and then Brian called. They had planned a date for Friday night, dinner, and a show at a great blues club. She was ecstatic. She didn’t tell anyone at school, for fear they might judge her for dating such an older guy. She didn’t even tell Pete.

 

The big night came, and she dressed up in new clothes she had bought with her modeling money, from a pimple cream ad. Brian showed up, driving a 57’ mustang. She was impressed to say the least.

 

 “You look great! Get in!” he said, escorting her out to the car.

 

They went to the Blue Cat Café, a swanky, hip beatnik café that served a great steak. Charlotte nervously picked at her salad, waiting for Brian to say something. He just stared at her with a warm smile. At that moment, a strange feeling came across her, a feeling she had never felt before. Billie Holliday’s “Lady Sings The Blues” played quietly on the speakers, as she too, with her large emerald green eyes stared back at him. She knew he was an old soul, with a lot to give to the world. She felt something that she had never felt before, from the pit of her stomach, something more than just attraction.  But, being the frightened 15 year old she was, she blamed it on hormones, and nibbled a bit more.

 

“I don’t know what it was, but I saw you across the room and I just had to be near you. Sorry, it sounds bloody strange, I know” He said in his soft, posh British accent.

 

“No, its okay, I felt the same way when I saw you. The funny thing is, I know nothing about you!”

 

“Oh, I know. Hmm lets see, I was born in Cheltenham, Gloustershire in 1942, so that makes me 21. I was a bit of a troublemaker in school, but I did well, so I went on to study to go to Dentistry school. But then the blues bug bit me, and I moved out at 16 and hitchhiked to Scandinavia.”

 

“Wow, your ions ahead of me. What a life” She said, her eyes glassed over with intrigue. 

 

“Well, I guess but my parents were a real drag, I bet yours are great. Besides, your only 18, you’ve got the whole world at your feet.”

 

Charlotte felt ashamed that she lied. But he would never understand how mature she was for her age. She bit her lip, and finished her salad. Brian was already done with his steak.

 

“Want to take a walk? Great place to walk at night, London.”

 

“Sure.”

 

So they walked, he took her hand into his, which were a bit calloused by guitar playing, but still soft. She was surprised. She wasn’t nervous around him like she was with boys she had crushes on. He was different.

 

“So you live in London?” She asked, trying to spark up a conversation.

 

“Yea, with a few roommates, in a disgusting place called Edith Grove. Mick and Keith, my band mates, we live there. Its gross, but it’s a room over our heads for the time being.”

 

“I see.”

 

They continued until it was 1am. He brought her home, and walked her up to her front door. He kissed her on the cheek.

 

“Charlotte, I had a really good time tonight. The Stones are playing a show at the Marquee this Wednesday, care to come?”

“I’d love to”

They made plans, and he left. She floated to her room, and fell right asleep.

 

**********************************************************************************

Sunday morning.

 

The phone rang, and Charlotte, in the kitchen eating applesauce, answered.

 

“Chaaalotte daaaaling, its Rosalie. I’ve got some big news.”

 

“Yes of course, what is it?”

 

“Sixteen magazine has booked you for an editorial”

 

“Great news! What kind?”

 

“It’s a bit unorthodox, I can’t say anything more, but don’t worry daaaling, it’ll be fabulous. Get your beauty rest the night before, and drink lots of water. This is a big assignment, so be at London central studios at 8am sharp on Friday morning.” Another day playing hookey from school. Oh well.

 

“Alright, thanks Rosalie.”

 

“Great, good luck darling, and remember, be professional.”

 

 

For Charlotte it was just another photo shoot. Or was it. Rosalie sounded a bit odd on the phone, maybe a scout from Vogue or Glamour would be there. That’s it, Charlotte thought, its got to be.

 

 

The big day. Friday morning. Charlotte had called in sick to school. She woke up at 5am, to shower, scrub her face, use a face mask, condition her hair, and so on. She was ready by 7. The car from the agency came to pick her up. She had a sick feeling in her stomach she just couldn’t shake, and walking on air because of Brian certainly didn’t help her nerves. Walking into the studio was hard, and she felt like she was going to positively throw up. She was seated at the makeup station, and a makeup artist went to town on her face. All of a sudden, she heard gasps, and a few cries. Then, a few very peculiar sounding English accents not far behind her.

 

“Jolly good”

 

“Yes”

 

“Luvly time, indeed”

 

“Alright I suppose”

 

She turned around, almost choking on her tea to see it was none other than the Bealtes, talking nonsense to upset the studio people. They had succeeded. Charlotte was convinced she was hallucinating, so she closed her eyes, and asked for a cup of water. But she kept hearing the funny voices, and she realized, that the mythical creatures everyone called The Beatles were indeed in the same room as her. She tried not to look, but it was too tempting. Knowing John was married, she set her eyes on Paul. His face was of pure innocence, or so she thought. Baby cheeks, sad puppy eyes, and full lips. Dreamy! Of course the boys set their eyes on their next victim, Charlotte.

 

“Pretty bird”

 

“Hmm luvly bird”

 

“Ooohh I want to talk to her”

 

“No, me first”

 

She knew they were messing with her head, but she couldn’t help but get flustered inside. When she was done, and seated on a director’s chair with her water, when the photographer’s assistant walked up to her.

 

“Hello Charlotte, here is the deal, you will be photographed with the Beatles, as you all wear the hottest fashions for this fall season. Then you will be shot combing one of the boy’s hair. I will call you over to wardrobe in a few minutes, so be ready.”

 

She couldn’t believe it, The Beatles! She hadn’t really been a rabid fan, but it still was exciting to be in the presence of famous people. She had the single “Love Me Do”, and knew they were huge in Britain, but hadn’t really gotten that into them. She was a fan, but was more interested in the blues, and of course, Brian.

 

“Um, hello miss model girl” John said, looking like he was up to no good.

 

“Hello, Mr.  Beatle man” Charlotte said quite cleverly.

 

“Will you comb my  hair in the shot? You don’t want to touch the others, they’ve got lice like you wouldn’t believe.” John semi-whispered, loud enough for the boys to hear.

 

“Ey ya wee git!” Paul yelled from the catering table. 

 

“Hmm we’ll see” Charlotte replied. John was amazed at how this girl did not jump at his request. She was different, he knew that much. So he became a bit more civil.

 

“Okay, then luv” He said, and went off to get a cup of tea and a scone. He came back, with tea and scones for Charlotte. 

 

“Thanks, that was nice of you”

 

“So how old are you? You look so young”

 

“18”

 

“Oh, your outright lyin’ “

 

“16”

 

“Try again luv”

 

“15” She said, with a sweet, coy smile on her face.

“That’s more like it. I can tell these things you know. Intuition or something like that”.

 

“Oh” Charlotte  played it cool, constantly reminding herself that these were just four guys who happen to make it big. That’s all, human beings, like herself.

 

“So, you’re a model, eh?” Paul said, as he sat down on another director’s chair, sipping tea.

 

“Yes, this is actually my first big shoot”

 

“Wow, pretty good gig. Hey Lennon, they want you over at makeup to cover your ugly face.”

 

“Bugger off!” John sneered as he got the hint and left. Charlotte got suspicious.

 

“So, your 15 eh? So young, but you seem mature. What’s your name?” He said in his high pitched voice. He was so cute she wanted to eat him up. But she still remained cool.

 

“Thanks. I’m Charlotte Quinn.”

 “Ey, we both ave’ Irish names. Gear.”

 

 

“They said I could pose combing anyone’s hair. Would you mind if I did yours for the picture?” Charlotte said, her eyes widened.

 

“Of course luv, but only on one condition.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“You give me your phone number so I can call you and tell you what time I’ll pick you up for dinner tonight” Charlotte’s heart stopped beating for a few seconds.

 

“You mean a….a date?”

 

“Well yes, unless its called something else these days” He winked.

 

“Sure, here let me write it down.” She ran over to the buffet table and got a napkin. She wrote her name, and phone number, as well as a smiley face.  She handed it over to Paul. For a moment, their hands brushed. She nearly fainted.

 

“Thanks luv, I’ll call you this afternoon. You’ll be around?”

 

“Um, yes, yes I will” The photographer called everyone to the set, and they took their places. Then it dawned on her. Brian.