Waking up in Linda’s arm was a dream Paul never wished to wake from. He got out of the bed and went for the shower while she slept gently and quietly. He opened the tap and out came the water. Oddly enough, there was only one tap, but no matter how he fiddled with it, the water came out in the exact temperature he enjoyed it. He chuckled, remembering the saying "It’s not a perfect world". He had no clue, but this one seemed to be perfect so far. He hummed as the water ran down his once again young body, humming a song he had placed in his "Ram" album, one named "Dear Boy". Suddenly, he stopped, remembering he had written that as a message to John after the band’s break-up. Not a hostile message, but one that clearly indicated his resentment against his friend. It talked about his depression after the demise of The Beatles, as well as John’s choice to leave his first wife… And the last paragraph said something about John’s preference of his new love over their friendship. It was, all in all, a sad song. And Paul was not sad in the least. Still, the tune was always good and catchy, so he continued humming.

Linda stepped in as he showered and spoke softly. –Why didn’t you wake me?

-You looked luvely in yer sleep, luv. – Paul looked out the shower. – Is it just me, or does the water come out the way I like it?

Linda laughed. –You’re as surprised as I was, but yes….

Paul giggled. –Gear!

- You feel like eating something?

- Well, I do know we eat out of fancy, so… Do you fancy anything, luv? - Paul said as he scrubbed his feet.

- Pancakes…

- I’ll get to it in a minute…- Paul reached out for a towel.

- No way! – She giggled as she prepared her toothbrush. –You spent the last months of my first life cooking for me, now it’s my turn!

Paul peeked out of the shower, his hair no longer soaked but damp from towelling it. –Gonna be the good missus, then?

- Sort of…- She grinned at him. – Just wanna make you happy today…

- I already am…- He stepped out of the shower wrapping the towel around his waist, and he kissed her cheek. –You have no clue how happy I am.

Linda took out a can of shaving foam and sat Paul down. –Well, - She applied some foam to his face, and turned to rinse her hands. – I’ll bet you’ve cried more in two days than what you did in ten years of your previous life…

- That’s very true… - He smiled as he saw her pull out a blade from the sink drawer. –Are you gonna do that?

- Chin up!

Paul obeyed and she gently slid the blade down his neck, careful not to cut him. –Well, at least if I slash your throat you’re not gonna die from it.

Paul giggled. But he remembered that his shaves were always smoother and softer whenever Lin did them.

- Going to meet the guys today? - She asked as she finished shaving his neck.

- Supposedly. – He sighed while she rinsed the blade under the tap. – But I dunno, George said he’d let me know…

- Oh, you saw him! - Lin smiled as she once again approached to shave the rest of his face.

- Met him yesterday at the park. I was jamming with these kids, and all…

- I’ve done that once or twice.

Paul gasped. –What? You did that voluntarily?

Lin gave him an exasperated look. –You taught me music, Paul, I have to share it here. – She began to shave his cheek. – I got pretty good with the keyboards, you know…

He grabbed her hand and kissed it. –Yeah, I know…

She smiled at him and stared into his eyes, his beautiful, sad, greyish-hazel-brown eyes she had missed so much, reading love all over them. – I love you, Paul…

Paul grinned at her as he kissed her hand again. – I luv you too…

After finding all the instruments he needed in the attic of his house (another great surprise), he went out the door as Lin waved her hand from the entrance. Guitar in his hand, he paced to the house George had signalled as his own, and knocked on the door. He tapped on his guitar case, humming as he waited for someone to open the door.

- Paul? - Liv asked, wide-eyed and happy as she saw him. –Oh, God, you look gorgeous!!- She hugged him. – Please, come in!

- Hi, Liv! Paul smiled. –God, you look good too!

- George is in the shower now…- She led him to the livingroom. –He was up all night talking to John and Ringo on the phone…

- God, we have phones as well? – he raised his brows with a giggle. –Do you reckon there’s anything different in this… afterlife thing?

- There’s no war, luv! - George smiled as he approached Paul, towelling his hair. –Got yer guitar, I see…

- Yeh…

- All right, just let me get the mop hairdo ready and I’ll be with you in a jiffy, hey?

Paul nodded while George ran back up the stairs. He then turned to Olivia and smiled. –So, how are you, Liv?

- Well, feeling great like everyone else.- She brushed her black hair to the side. –Actually, George and I found out you were here because you were on TV…. – She stood up and went to the telly, turning the knobs. –We get local signals as well as first signals..

- The afterlife has TV stations? - Paul squeaked.

- Of course! For local news and other things…- She went through the channels, until she reached the news channel. - Ah there it is!!

Paul stared at the telly, saddened. People were standing outside his home, holding candles, laying flowers down on the ground and crying. Not just outside his home, but also in every British embassy around the world as well as in the streets of New York, where The Beatles Memorial Statue in central park was surrounded by hundreds of people chanting out songs. Paul remembered vividly the vigils when his three mates had passed, and was touched to see the world missed him. He almost cried when he saw a young girl in her mid twenties, holding a banner with the faces of the four Beatles, which read "Together again, lads!" in red under the images.

George stepped behind Paul and watched in silence, until he finally spoke. –It’s sort of unreal to realise it’s about you, hey?

Paul nodded.

- Yeh, it was the same fer me as well…- George sighed. – It was sort of moving… But it’s good to know that that banner the girl had is true, hey, mate?

Paul looked up at George and smiled. –Yeh… It’s so good to see you lot… I can’t wait to meet John and Ring…

- Well, then lad, get yer six string off the floor and let’s go fer it!

After kissing his wife goodbye, the two musicians set out for Ringo’s. This time, they took a car. (Naturally, Paul was stunned once again when he saw that they had cars… And that they ran without the need for fuel!).

The landscape was unimaginably beautiful, more beautiful than what he could have wished for. Paul gawked at the view from the side window of the car, making George giggle.

- Better than Pepperland, hey?

Paul laughed. –God, I can’t even begin to imagine what Pepperland would be like over here…

- Pepperland was a madman’s opium dream, Macca! - George laughed back. –On film it was good, but can you imagine what it would be like fer real, mate? A bloody nightmare!

- Yeh!! What about Jeremy?

Both giggled as George spoke again. –Jeremy Hillary Boob, PhD…. What on earth was that, then?

- The nowhere man? - Paul raised his eyebrows as they both remembered the furry little character from the Yellow Submarine movie.

- Yeh, he’s a nowhere man, mate, basically because he’s not real…All you see around you is very, very real…

After a fifteen-minute drive, they pulled over by a huge red brick house with tall trees all around it. No sooner had they stepped out of George’s car when Maureen ran over to them, screaming for Paul, and jumped around his neck. –Oh, you big lad!!! Look at you!!- She squeaked. –It’s so good to see you!

Paul hugged her back. –Mo, you look just like I remembered you!

- See there? - She modelled before him. –No greys at all, luv!

Paul and George laughed as they followed her into the house. – You’d never believe it, but he had no clue about you coming here, Paul! - She tidied up as she walked in front of them. –We were watching telly last night when George called us… Richie was off his head with happiness, you know!

- And, err… Where is he? - Paul asked as he licked his lips.

- Right ‘ere, Paulie!!!- Ringo jumped on Paul’s back and messed his hair up. The both wrestled playfully before the smiles of George and Mo.

- God, I missed you, mate!!- Ringo gave Paul two huge kisses on his cheeks before hugging him again. – It’s so bloody good to see you, man!

Paul’s hair was now a mess. – God, Ring!!- He smiled at his friend. –How have you been, man?

- Good, good!!- Ringo huffed putting his hands in his pockets. – Miss my family a bit, but I’m otherwise happy, you know… Been up to no good, conducting a show on telly…

- Just yer thing, hey?

- Sort off…

- He’s been getting into community service, mate...- George spoke for Ringo. –He was trialed for alcoholism, now he works with lads who passed young in car wrecks and stuff, you know, to help them out and stuff…

- Just sing something to them and they seem happy enough…- Ringo smiled.

George turned to Paul. –You have been told about yer duties as a musician, hey?

- Yeh…- Paul nodded. –Sum kid in the park told me before I met you.

Then the phone rang. Paul jumped, startled as Maureen rushed over to get it. –Hello? Yes? Oh, hello! Yes, he’s here… they all are… Of course… Yes, John, you too…

- John? - Paul gasped, feeling the air leave his body as Maureen hung up.

- He’s wondering where the hell you are. – She smiled at the boys. – You know what he’s like, can’t wait an extra minute…

- It’s a bleedin’ miracle he’s up THIS early. –Ringo looked at his watch, and then turned to look at Paul. –You know, when he heard you was coming over, Paul, he almost lost his hinges. He called me right after George did, you know… He was all excited and shit… couldn’t get a single word across, he was just being incoherent.

- Well, John always did have a knack fer the absurd. - George scratched his chin. – Best be on our way, we don’t want to keep Long John waiting, hey?

They all went into George’s car. The trunk was already saturated with George’s guitars, so Ringo had to ride in the back with Paul’s six string on his lap.

After another fifteen-minute drive, Paul began to feel nervous. This was JOHN! His best friend, his soulmate in a musical and brotherly way, and the one man he had ever looked up to other than his dad. Good old Johnny Lennon.

After they pulled over, George and Ringo stepped out of the car and helped unload the instruments. Paul sat inside, sweating cold through his temples. George peeked in through the window. –So, what are you waiting for, lad? Cum ‘ead!

- I can’t…- Paul mumbled.

- Yeh, you can… It’s all right, luv! – Ringo opened the door and pulled the terrified Beatle out the door. –There, see? Need sniffing salts, Macca?

Paul smiled and shook his head as he took the guitar from Ringo. –I’m fine lads, it’s just that…- He looked down. –This is John, you know… So many things were let unsaid, and all this time I thought he really hated me…

- Don’t flatter yerself, Paul, we all hated you fer a while, when you sued us! – George smiled, trying to cheer him up. His plan backfired, as Paul glared at the floor miserably.

- Lads, I’m so sorry about that, I…

- Stop it, McCartney! - Ringo smiled. –We talked about it when we made the anthology, remember? It’s in the past! No one hates you, nobody ever did!

Paul looked at them, still unsure.

- Come on, man! – Ringo gently punched his arm. –It’s us! The bleedin’ Fab Four, hey?

- The luvable mop tops, Macca! - George threw his arm around Paul as they walked down a narrow brick path. They reached the front door, and George tapped confidently.

Paul still looked terrified. But terror turned into astonishment the moment the door opened.

- CYNTHIA???- He shouted wide-eyed.

The blonde woman was in tears, her smile broad and happy. – Paul! You look wonderful!

She hugged him gently and he complied with an equally gentle hug. – Cyn!! It’s you!!

- Of course! Who did you expect to find?

It was stupid to try to answer.

Cyn cleaned the tears off her eyes and smiled. –Yoko? She lives about three blocks away. She visits us from time to time, but…- She laughed a mischievous giggle. – It was me, Paul! Who would have thought, hey?

Paul nodded in astonishment. – It’s so bloody good to see you, Cyn!!! You really don’t know how good it is to see you!

- He’s scared out of his bloody mind. –George smiled as he greeted Cyn with a kiss.

- What of? John? - She grimaced. – Don’t be silly, Paul! He was so glad to have the chance to talk to you again. He’s really missed you, you know. After he heard on the news what had happened, he couldn’t stop smiling and laughing. "He’s coming ‘ere Cyn!! He’s coming over!" He jumped in the bed and did all sorts of silly antics, you know…- She lowered her voice, almost whispering. –He’s sweating bullets too, if I say so myself…

Paul grinned. –Really? Cyn, is he really going to be pleased to see me?

- Happy is not half the word! - She laughed. –He’s actually afraid YOU still don’t like him! He knows you do, and all, but he still has that ugly feeling, you know…

The Cute Beatle pressed his lips together. –Is he here, now?

- Yeh, he’s in the studio…- She invited them in and they all paced. Paul stepped in last, afraid.

Cyn walked upstairs, and the other three waited downstairs, while a sweaty Paul bit his thumbnail, one hand resting on the guitar case vertically placed on the floor.

- God, Paul, will you relax? - Ringo touched his arm. – He’s not the bleedin’ bogeyman, you know…

- I know, Ring, it’s just….

- It’s fine, Paul. –George smiled at him.

Cyn came downstairs. –Lads? You want to go upstairs? I think he’s finally ready…

Slowly, the three boys followed Cyn upstairs. Paul’s heartbeat was so strong he was sure the others could hear it.

George pushed the door open and stepped in. –Hey mate!

Ringo followed, but Paul stood outside the door, his eyes already shining with tears even before he saw John. He then heard his voice, a voice he had missed so much. –Well? Where is he, then?

Just the sound of his friend’s voice was enough for the tear to run down his cheek as he closed his eyes and bit his lower lip.

George peeked out the door and found Paul standing like a weeping statue outside the door. –Come on, mate…- He grabbed his friend’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. –It’s all right….

Paul opened his eyes and nodded at George. Silently, he followed him.

There he sat.

John was sitting on a rolling chair behind a modern recording console. He, too, wore the infamous mop top, his hair golden underneath the light of the lamps. Their eyes met, and Paul was able to see John was just as nervous as he was.

There was a stony silence in the room as Paul and John stared at each other. Finally, John stood up and Paul flinched mildly. The auburn-haired Beatle stepped toward his friend, his eyes also shining with tears. Without as much as a word, he hugged him. It took Paul a few seconds to react and hug him back. But once he did, they hugged each other tight, and loosened up into obvious and undisguised sobs. No words were necessary.

After long minutes of hugs and cries, John pulled away and looked into Paul’s eyes, as a smile arose on his lips. –So, then, Macca…- he spoke sniffing and making Paul shiver once again. - You finally had the balls to join us, then!

Paul could still not speak. He simply stared at John with a tiny grin on his lips.

- Go on!! - John shook him violently, smiling broadly. –Speak to me! I’ve been waiting fer forty-one bloody years to hear frum ya!

Paul chuckled and bit his lips. –Hello Johnny…

John laughed and hugged him again. –Yeh, this is ‘im, all right!

Paul finally loosened up as he openly cried and laughed. – Missed you, mate… Missed you so bloody much!

- Yeh, I know…- John spoke, still hugging him. – Been a bloody lifetime, mate… We wasted so much time on incredible bullshit, hey? - Once again he pulled him away to look at him.

- God, Paulie, if I were a girl I’d screw yer brains out! You look luvely! No wrinkles, no saggy folds! Got starched and pressed, then, hey?

Paul pulled away giggling. – Sod off, yeh?

John laughed hard as he chased Paul around the room. –Go on, Paulie! Just one little kiss, hey?

- I swear, Lennon, I’ve a good mind to thump you one! - Paul laughed as he stepped away.

In a matter of seconds, there was a playful persecution in the small studio, which ended with Paul on the floor as John landed a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

Laughing out of his mind, Paul gave John a tighter hug as he stood up. –God, I missed you so much mate!

- I did hear the "Here Today" thing mate…- John smiled softly. –I was very fuckin’ touched…

- Are we allowed to say the "f" word? –Paul turned, astonished, to the others.

- Heck, I dunno if we’re allowed or not, Paul, you know me…- John lit a cigarette. –I’ve never cared much about what is or isn’t allowed…

- It’s a bloody miracle the man is here at all…- Ringo smiled. –He almost got the boot after he shouted at God fer taking his mum away from him when he needed her the most! Not to mention he had to find good explanations after saying we were more popular than Jesus was…- Ringo chuckled. – Let’s not forget, son… Jesus is the High Chairman’s boy, hey?

George and Paul laughed as John shrugged. – Never been able to keep me big bloody gob shut, hey? That got me five nice bullets!

Paul suddenly quieted down and stared at John. –That was one of the worst days of me life, you know…

John offered him a cigarette. –Of YOUR life, Macca? - He laughed. – Well, that wasn’t me best day, either, you know… I was bloody mad and lonely over here! And on trial! Only me mum, dad and Stu came ‘ere…

- Stu? - Paul raised his brows.

- He’s still me mate, you know!!- John smiled. –Can you imagine what I felt when I saw that I had moved on because sum fucked up animal thought it would be dandy to fill me up with lead? - he laughed. –Then you and yer bleedin’ song about me, Macca, I was in a state. – He put his hand on Paul’s shoulder. –If you said you knew me well, what would me answer be? - John spoke, quoting Paul’s song. – I would say, yes, you were right. I’d have been a proud bastard and said we were miles apart… But now… Nope, mate… You knew me better than anyone in the bloody world…

That was enough to get them both started on tears again.

- And I was proud to be in your song, mate… I knew you really luved me and I still put you through hell…

- No, John, ‘ang on…- Paul tried to stop him

- Wait, Paul. I’ve waited ages to tell you this… I’ve never been so bloody honest in all me life, mate, so…- John pressed his lips together and closed his eyes as tears ran down his cheeks. –I’m so, so sorry, mate. The hell you went through was all because of me, man… You didn’t break the Beatles up… I did… I did by pushing me best mate away…

Paul swallowed hard.

- No, John… I want to say something now…- Paul gasped for air. –I’m sorry too… I didn’t make it any easier fer you or Yoko…- he sniffed. –Hell, I didn’t make it easier fer anyone… I thought that if I wasn’t in control, it would all fall apart…

- And it did. - John finished for him. – I didn’t understand how you felt until I heard yer song, that "Tug of war" thing… You just wanted yer mate, and yer mate betrayed you…

- He was trialed for that. –George spoke as John looked down. – The moment he saw how you had felt, it hit him…

- I did shitty stuff as well. – Paul bit his lip. –I was a right prick to you all…- He looked at the other three. –Lads, I’m sorry….

- Aw, sod it! - Ringo said, turning around to hide he had a tear in his eye. –You just set me off, Paul!

John stood up with a big smile on his face. –Screw us! We’re a bunch of sentimental old bags!! Ere! Group hug, hey???

The four embraced in a tight hug.

After that, they were all smiling and glad to be together. John winked at Paul. - No more tug of war, hey Macca?

- No more tug of war, Johnny! - Paul winked back as he took his guitar out.

Paul was delighted to be with his friends once again, but he could not help wondering… Why had Yoko not been John’s soulmate? Where on earth or heaven was she?

continued