Emma spent a month at home relaxing; something she desperately needed to do. On October 1st, she returned to New York.

“Yes, you heard me right, Sam. I want to do a show in London. . . Well, are they asking? . . . Yes . . . Sam! I’m telling the truth!” Emma was on the phone with her manager and friend, Sam Elkhorn. She’d spent the last five minutes trying to convince him that she really wanted to do a show in London.

“Are you just messing with my head, Gellar?”

“Sam! I’m telling the truth. I think it’s time to go there.” She could just see Sam grinning on the other end.

“You’re really not fucking with my head?” he asked.

“No!” Emma cried. “I want to do this. They’ve been wanting me for a while and now I’m ready. I just need you to arrange everything. Now here is the biggest news.” She paused for dramatics. “I want you to find me a flat because I am going to set up residence in London.”

“This is probably the best news I have heard in a long time, Emmie. I’ll get at this right away.”

When Rubber Soul came out at the beginning of December, Emma constantly played it, especially track eleven, In My Life. The first time she had heard it, she’d cried her eyes out. It was so haunting and beautiful. It was like the whole album spoke to her. She doubted that any of the songs were inspired by her, but when Paul sang You Won't See Me, it was like he was talking to her. And when he sang I’m Looking Though You, it made her cry.

“This is so exciting!” Laura squealed as they walked off the plane.

It was February of 1966. Emma, Sam and Laura had arrived in London. Sam and Laura were there to help Emma settle into her new home. She still hadn’t seen the place. She’d entrusted Sam with the details.

They collected their luggage and got into a taxi.

“St John’s Wood, please,” Sam said to the driver.

“Ooh, that is a posh area.” Emma gasped. “I can’t afford something like that!”

Sam laughed. “Emma! The last painting you sold went for fifty thousand dollars! You can afford a nice flat!”

Emma sat back in the seat, staring at the city flowing by them. She still couldn’t believe she was back in England to live.

Sam informed them when they had pulled on to the street. Emma and Laura gawked at the houses. “I’m going to live in one of those?” Emma asked, amazed.

A group of girls were standing together in front of a large iron gate that led to a hidden house.

“You’re living near celebrities!” Laura teased.

The taxi came to a stop and Emma peered out of the window. You couldn’t see much of the house. Trees made a canopy, hiding the building from the street.

They got out of the cab and Sam payed the driver and collected the bags.

“Come on,” Laura laughed, tugging on Emma’s arm. “I’m sure it looks better on the inside.”

Sam had a key that opened the big iron gate and he handed the house keys to Emma. “I think you should have the honor.”

Emma took the keys from Sam unlocked the lock and pushed open the door.

The front room was alleviated by the sunlight. It shone off the cherry-coloured hardwood floors. Two steps led down to the front room. No furniture had arrived yet. To the left, a hallway led to the kitchen, and off from the kitchen was a stairwell that lead to the second floor. That was where the master bedroom was situated. Emma stood in the doorway speechless. It was huge. The floors were hardwood and off to the side were large, white, French style doors that led onto a balcony. Once on the balcony you had a great view of the lavish, traditional English garden in the backyard.

“This isn’t even the best part,” Sam smiled. He led them up a second flight of stairs and made Emma close her eyes when they reached the door. “Okay, you can open them,” Sam instructed her.

Emma opened her eyes and her breath was literally taken away. The third floor had been converted into a large art studio with floor to ceiling windows and there was even a loft. Her art supplies had been moved in and Emma couldn’t believe how perfect it was.

“I know you like lots of sunlight,” Sam began, walking to one side of the room. “So I had them make all the walls into windows. That way, you’ll be sure to get plenty of sunlight coming your way.”

“Zipade dodah zipide aey!” Laura laughed.

“I can’t believe this place!” Emma cried, spinning in a small circle. “Thank you, Sam.”

“No problem Emmie.”

“Are you ready to put on a show?” She asked.

Emma let Sam worry about putting the show together. She wanted to reacquaint herself with London and show Laura all the sites.

“I can’t believe I had never been to London before!” Laura cried as they got out of the taxi after a day of shopping at Carnaby and Oxford street.

“Isn’t it great!” Emma agreed.

The phone was ringing just as Emma unlocked the door and she rushed to answer it.

“Hello?”

“We have a gallery, we have a date. It’s all set.”

“Sam’s set a date,” Emma mouthed to Laura. “When?” she asked Sam.

“A week from today. It’s a short notice, but you would not believe how high in demand you are over here!”

Emma’s face turned red and Laura started to laugh. “When can I see the place, Sam?”

“I can take you there tomorrow around noon.”

“Alright. See you then. And thank you, Sam.”

“It’s what I do, Em.”

She hung up the phone and accepted the glass of wine Laura was holding in front of her. “Just what I needed!” she sighed.

“That’s great that Sam found a place.” Laura said, sitting down on the sofa that had arrived yesterday.

“Yeah,” Emma smiled. “I don’t think I have ever been this excited about a show.”

“Do you think any of them will be there?”

“Any of who?” Emma asked, slipping off her shoes and lifting her legs up onto the couch.

“The Beatles.” Laura said it like it was a dirty word.

Emma thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know. They must be recording or something. They won’t have time for an art show.”

“Well it’s not like they won’t know you’re here. By tomorrow night, all of London will know you are having a show.”

Emma sighed. “I can’t stop him from coming, Laura. I’ll just have to face him this time. I’ll have to face all of them sooner or later.”

“Maybe you’d rather it later than sooner,” Laura observed.

Emma downed the rest of her wine.

“This is great, Sam! You picked a good one.”

Emma walked around the large, bare walled room that would be housing her paintings in a matter of hours.

“We’re having the paintings shipped here as we speak.” Sam informed her.

“Great! And invitations? Can we really expect anyone to come on such short notice?”

“They’ll come!” Sam assured her. “They’ll make time!”

Emma laughed. “I wish I had the confidence you have for me!”

Sam wrapped his arm around Emma’s shoulders. “I am going to tell you the honest to god truth right now. And you know I don’t do that very often!” Emma playfully shoved him and he laughed. “You, Emma James, are one of the best painters I have ever seen. You have talent, girl!”

Emma wrapped her arms around Sam and gave him a light squeeze. “Thanks, Sam.”

“This feels like that day way back when, when I was getting ready for my first ever show!” Emma shouted to Laura as she ran from her bathroom to her closet.

“Did you find that necklace?” Laura shouted back as she ran up the stairs. “Tell me about it! We’re both a nervous wreck again!” She came into Emma’s room holding up the back of her dress. “Can you zip me up?”

Emma came out of her closet holding her dress over her left arm. “This looks so good on you!” she cried, zipping up the midnight blue silk sleeveless dress Laura had chosen to wear. “The necklace is on the table by my bed.” She disappeared back into her closet, coming out moments later, dressed.

Laura let out a long whistle. “Look at you!”

Emma did a small twirl. “It’s not too revealing, is it?”

“No!” Laura cried. “Oh my god! It just looks perfect on you!”

Emma had found this great dress in a vintage shop from the 1920's. It came to just above her knee and had long sleeves and a low v neck line. It tied up in the back and the colour was amazing. One moment it was a brilliant violet colour and the next it was a shimmering silver.

“Girl, you’re gonna knock them dead over this dress instead of with your paintings!”

Emma laughed as she slipped the pearl necklace around Laura’s throat. “I hope not! There, all done.”

“Ya ready to knock them dead?” Laura asked, turning around.

Emma got a gleam in her eye and smiled. “I’m ready.”

Emma smiled politely at face number forty-two. “Thank you for coming.”

The gallery was packed to capacity.

Face number forty-three. “Thank you for coming.” She needed to get out of there for a moment. She needed a drink.

“I’ll be right back,” she whispered into Sam’s ear. He nodded and went back to his conversation.

She grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter as she escaped onto an unoccupied balcony.

The night was going just as she’d hoped. People were raving about her paintings. But something was missing. She was in London, but she hadn’t noticed anyone at the party that she really wanted to see. She sighed and leaned her elbows on the concrete railing.

“I told you we’d meet at the top,” a voice said softly behind her.

Emma froze, goose bumps covering her body. Tears immediately sprung to her eyes as she turned around slowly.

“I thought you would never get here.” He opened his arms and Emma fell into them.

“John!” she cried.

“It’s been too long,” he choked.

They stood on the balcony, the cool evening air blowing, for a long time, just holding onto each other.

Finally Emma stepped back, wiping the tears from her face, and smiled. “I was hoping you’d come.”

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

Emma smiled, still is shock. “Is this for real?”

John brushed her hair with his hand. “Yes. And look at you. Miss famous painter!”

“You’re one to talk, Mr famous rock star!” Emma laughed.

“I told you we were going to the toppermost of the poppermost!”

“That you did,” she smiled. Then her smile vanished. “Is he here, John?”

“No. Just Cyn and I.”

“Cyn’s here!” Emma’s eyes brightened. “Congratulations by the way!”

John’s smile faded for just a split second then came back. “Thanks. Shall we go find her?”

“Yes!”

They left the balcony and reentered the party, scanning the crowd for Cynthia. Emma spotted her first, by the bar, and was over there before John knew what was happening.

“Cyn!” Emma cried.

Cyn looked up, her eyes widening. “Emma!”

The two old friends embraced, laughing and crying at the same time. They began talking as if four years of lost time never happened.

“You have to come over to the house, meet Julian!”

“I’d love to!? Emma laughed. She looked from John to Cyn. “I cannot believe I am looking at you two. I thought I’d lost you forever.”

“We thought we’d lost you!” Cyn cried.

John put his arm around the two women. “Well now we’re here, so lets have some fun!” A mischievous grin crossed his lips.

Emma stayed glued to John and Cyn for the rest of the night, not wanting to lose them again.

Two days later a taxi dropped Emma off in front of John’s Tudor mansion just outside of London.. Before she had even got out of the car, the front door swung open and out came John with his arms open and a huge smile spread across her face.

She paid the driver and then fell into his arms. When they pulled apart, John led her into the house.

“Cyn had to go into London today. She should be back for supper. I was given specific instructions to show you the house.”

“Quite a change from 3 Gambier Terrace,” Emma laughed as he took her on a little tour of the mansion.

They ended up in a sun room at the back of the house. John got them a scotch and coke and they settled down in the chairs.

“I can’t believe I am looking at you!” John laughed.

“I can’t believe it either! We were so stupid to lose touch.”

“That was my fault,” John confessed. “I’m not going to sit here and make stupid excuses. Things took off for the band and we were busy, but there was time to write. I was just a bastard.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I was a saint in the writing department, either,” Emma smiled.

“We’ve missed so much.”

“But now we’re here and we have so much to catch up on. Look at you, Mr. World Famous Rock Star.”

John laughed. “Well look at you, Miss. World Famous Artist!”

“I wish I wasn’t world famous.” Emma confided.

John eyed her. “You’re joking, right?”

Emma looked down into her drink. “I wasn’t meant for the spotlight. I’ve never liked having attention drawn on me and you know that.”

“You deserve all the success that you’ve got. If you hate it that much, take a year off.”

She looked up at John. “It’s not the painting part I hate. It’s the television and newspaper interviews. The magazine layouts. I’m just a painter and yet they could care less about my art!”

“Oh Emmie,” John smiled. “What are we going to do with you?” he laughed as he ducked from a flying pillow.

Cyn came home then. Her and Emma squealed and hugged again. Then she was introduced to the little boy cowering behind his mother.

“Emma, this is John Charles Julian Lennon. Julian, this is an old friend of mummy and daddy’s.”

Emma crouched down and smiled at Julian. “It’s nice to meet you Julian.”

Julian smiled back and came forward.

She looked up at John and smiled. She could see the pride and love in his eyes for his son.

“Julian, why don’t you go upstairs and Mummy will be right up.”

He took off out of the sun room and you could hear his little feet run up the stairs.

“He’s gorgeous!” Emma smiled.

Cyn laughed. “He’s definitely no angel! Takes after his father, that one.”

“And that’s not a bad thing,” John defended.

“Whatever you say!” Emma beamed.

Cyn went and put Julian to bed and then the three adults sat down to dinner, catching up on things they had missed.

“So, where did you find a flat?” Cyn asked, halfway through the meal.

“My friend, Sam, found me this great place in St John’s Woods. I have an amazing studio and lots of privacy.”

She watched the look on John and Cyn’s faces drop.

“What?” Emma asked.

“You don’t know who lives in that area, do you?” John asked.

Emma shook her head. “No. Should I?”

Cyn and John exchanged a look.

“What?!” Emma cried.

“Paul lives there.” John finally said.

Emma almost dropped her fork. Just what she needed. “That would explain those girls that hang out outside the gates of one of the flats. He lives just a few houses down from me. I never even thought . . .” Emma mused. “I can’t believe this!”

“Small world,” John joked, trying to break the tension.

“Small world indeed,” she replied.

Three hours later, Emma left the Lennon home and as she drove past Paul’s house, she looked up at the upstairs window. There was a light on and she wondered if he knew how close they lived to one another. She just couldn’t escape him and she knew that sooner or later she was going to have to confront him. But when?