Chapter 4
"Yeah, sure, if you want. Where to start," he said, sighing. "Well, I've known Paul the longest. Met him on the bus. We went to the same school, he's not too much older than me, and was only a form ahead. I guess one day we found out that we both played guitar and we started playing around a bit. I mean, at this time there were so many bands getting started in Liverpool. Everyone was in one. So, through him I met John."
He shifted and she lay on her side to see his face. His dark eyes met hers and he continued.
"John's older than us, by a few years and I looked up to him a lot. Still do, I guess. He just acted so cool, he was in college and would be all artsy one day, then would act the ted the next. Not so good at guitar, but he was the leader, we all knew it. I played some song in front of him and he liked it, so I got to join the band. I think he was embarrassed by me at first, I was so young, and he had a girlfriend and all and it was serious and I'd want to hang out and he'd blow me off. But I could play guitar better than him, so I was made lead."
"He and Paul write most of the stuff. In the beginning it was just them, they just couldn't stop. They'd get together for a couple hours and there'd be a new song with bits and pieces of a couple more. Now it's more John writes his own, Paul writes his own and then me. We're all our own writers but John and Paul still have control. But early on, John would help me with some of my songs. Real crap, but he'd get through it with me and help me out."
"And then Ringo. Well, I knew Ringo first, he was in another band and I knew he was a really good drummer. Our original drummer was Pete, but he never seemed right, like he wasn't giving it his all. When we started to get popular and got a manager, he wanted him out and I talked to Ringo and got the mates to okay him and he was in the band. He's really great. Sometimes he's the only one who keeps us together. When we fight, he's the one we all go to talk to."
"Do you fight a lot?" she asked softly.
He shrugged. "It depends. A lot of times when we're recording it gets bad. It's getting to be like we're not a band. I feel like I'm a back-up, not part of the band. We still have good times, and before it was great. We just laughed and had fun with everything. Now, well, it depends. It's the music. Sometimes it brings us together and we just get high and jam and really feel it, other times it's a drag. Getting up, recording, having everyone tell you what to do, how to play. Sometimes I'll want to play something, but it's not what John or Paul wants and I feel stifled. I've got a lot of songs building up and no where to go with them. But . . . I mean, we're mates. We've known each other since grammar school! That's a long time. We've been through a lot together."
Tala studied his face, noticed the subtle changes it went through as he talk of good times, bad times. A darkening of the eyes, knitting of the brow, or a smile. It was a heavy weight on him, she knew.
"So, do the others feel the way you do?"
He raised his brows. "I think it's getting to be that way. I know John's been discontented for years now, actually. He wants to do other things. Ringo feels left out sometimes, being the drummer. If we don't need him, he doesn't play and that takes a toll. Paul, well, if it were up to him, he'd be our leader, manager, producer and keep the band together forever. I just, I don't know what to do."
"You know, but you can't do it," she said, brushing the hair from his eyes.
"I know, I know. But I will, soon. It's inevitable, I think we can all feel it."
She looked at him, tilting her head, sensing his vibe . . . the strange, conflicting waves that wrestled within him.
"George, you know it's going to get worse before it gets better? You're going to go through a lot. The question comes down, not to how to avoid it but how to handle it. If you can do it with the grace you're capable of, then it will ease your mind greatly."
"That's comforting," he said wryly. "But, to be expected, naturally. Being the mystic you are, you wouldn't happen to know just exactly what I might run into?" he asked with a grin.
She shook her head. "Well, being that I am not a mystic, no. But, of course your music, your friends, maybe your marriage. Everything that touches you, and I know that sounds horrible. I don't know what will happen and I'm not predicting anything. I just feel that the road ahead will giving you some difficulties."
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. What a drag."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I was just feeling you, you've got a lot of tension and I wish I could help you," she apologised.
"Well, you do. To be able to turn to you and hear what you say. Your advice grounds me, makes me think and prepare. It makes me want to change. I take what you say very seriously."
He leaned to kiss her, bracing his fingers beneath her chin.
"I'm not sure I should be afforded the seriousness you put into me. I tend to open my mouth at bad times and say what I feel. I'm an advice giver even when people don't ask and that's a downfall I have."
"No, I don't think so. I love that you're so blunt and honest. The truth hurts, they say and it does. But it's the truth and you have to deal with it."
"Well, if ever you don't want to hear it, tell me. Please."
He nodded and a silence fell. Tala felt her stomach grumble a bit and she looked at him.
"Do you think those pakoras are still warm?"
He grinned. "I doubt it. Let me get them though, I'm hungry, too"
She watched as he went to the car and leaned over the door, searching for them. He looked so lovely, naked, his lean body so firm. She loved the way his dark hair fell about his shoulders. He turned and walked back and sat down. He gave her the package of pasties and she popped one in her mouth.
"A little cold, but good."
He ate one and smiled. "Food always goes cold when we try to eat it. Wonder why?"
"Hmm, I don't know. I suppose we just get distracted easily," she said, casting him a seductive glance from beneath her lashes.
He shook his head. "Don't look at me like that or these things'll be hard as rocks."
She laughed and raised a pakora to his mouth. He took a bite, then fed the rest to her. He watched her eat, then kissed her impulsively.
"You know, you've got beautiful lips," he said, smoothing his fingers over them.
"Do I?"
"Yeah . . ."
He leaned to kiss her again, gently sucking on her bottom lip. He ran his tongue slowly over them, touching lightly. She smiled and touched her tongue to his. He pulled her closer and let his mouth explore hers, tenderly, thoroughly. When they broke she looked down, feeling suddenly shy.
"What's the matter, love?"
"Nothing. My intimacy with you surprises me sometimes, that's all. Look at us, sitting here naked, having made love in a field . . . it takes a lot to be with a person in this way."
"I know. One thing to be in bed with the lights off, another to be in daylight, body bared to the world. Do you feel comfortable with me?"
"I wouldn't be with you if I didn't."
"Good. I couldn't stand it if I weren't able to make love to you like this. It's free love, better than sex in bed."
"I never thought I'd make love like this."
"Me either. Sex was always hush-hush when I was younger. I learned a lot of things from other lads, and then in Hamburg, but this is entirely new."
"The way it should be," she said, kissing his cheek, "I think we should go back now. There are some things I want to show you."
He arched a brow. "Oh really? I can't wait."
She popped another pakora in her mouth and got up. "Then hurry up!" She went to the car and pulled her clothes on, rearranged her skirt, and he came over digging for his shorts, somewhere on the floor. She settled into the passenger seat and once he had his shorts and sunglasses on, he hopped into the drivers side and started the car. He drove back through the field and out onto the road, then lead-footed it again. She laughed aloud as her hair flew out all around. He smiled at her, teeth shining, and went even faster. He had them home in no time, pulling up to the door with a cloud of dust.
"You liked that didn't you?" he asked, grinning.
She blinked and brushed the hair from her face. "Yes George, that was lovely. Never have I swallowed so must dust in my life," she answered, rolling her eyes.
He winked and came around the car to open her door. "Okay, so what's this you have to show me? I'm very excited, you know."
She took him by the hand and lead him into the house. She stopped in front of the door that was always closed, but for some reason, never asked about.
"You have to wait here for a moment," she said, and opened the door and slipped in. About a minute later she came back out and he looked up from the guitar he'd taken from the case as he waited.
"Follow me."
He did and stepped into the room. It was pleasantly dim, and lit only with candles. Two corners of the room were filled with burning incense and two had lush, tall plants. Exotically shaped colored bottles sat along the windowsills that were covered with thin, paper reed blinds. A cushioned area lay on one side of the room and on the other a small, tiled pool. It was round and heated, the steam laying on the surface like fog.
"Wow . . . I had no idea . . ."
"Well, you did come over to see me for a reason, before we started doing . . . other things," she said, grinning.
"Yeah . . . wow," he said again, looking around.
"This is where people come to meditate, chant or be alone. Anything they want. I want you to use it. So, please take off your clothes, and lay down on those mats."
He complied, putting his shorts in a corner. "How should I lay?"
"On your back, please."
He settled down and watched as she picked a blue bottle from the sill, then walk back to him and kneel by his side.
"Now, I want you to close your eyes. I'm going to relax you right now. You can help me by chanting, or thinking of pleasant things, but nothing that will darken your soul. Let your body go loose so it may respond to my touch."
He nodded and closed his eyes. She rubbed her hands together to warm them, then began to run her fingertips along the outline of his body. She barely touched him, just enough to leave a lingering sensation behind. She let her hands move over his shoulders, down his arms, over and between each finger, then down his legs to his feet. She continued this process a few times, then moved to the inside of his body, stroking over his chest, belly and downward. Then she outlined his face as she had before, tenderly brushing over his brows, eyelids and down his nose to his lips. He remained motionless, and his angular, handsome face looked so serene. She had a hard time not kissing him, he was so attractive.
"How do you feel?" she asked softly.
"Mmm, I tingle," he answered, voice distant.
"Good. Now I'm going to massage your muscles."
He gave a little nod. She poured some fragrant oil from the bottle and rubbed it into her hands. Ever so gently, she rubbed at his temples, down his cheekbones and along his jaw. She continued this pattern downward, concentrating along his shoulders and chest, rubbing deeply, to work the knots out of the muscles. She worked for a bit on each hand, rubbing the knuckles and joints. After she finished the top of his body, she knelt to whisper in his ear.
"I'm going to roll you over."
He gave a barely audible grunt and she grinned. With just a little trouble, she got him over and placed his arms tight to his sides. She poured some oil onto the deep groove of his back and spent a good deal of time working over him, giving attention to all of his tight, tense muscles. She worked them, rubbing the heel of her hand over them, kneading with her fingers. She rubbed her thumbs along either side of his spine right at the nape of his neck, and along down to his lower back. She concentrated on his feet, rubbing the cramped muscles and loosening them along his arch. When she finally finished, her hands ached badly, but she knew she had done a good job. She looked at his body, glinting with the oil. She went to the pool to give it time to soak in, and set loose a few lotus flowers to float along the top of the water. She tested the temperature, and feeling that it was efficient, poured a bit of oil from a different bottle into it. Then she went back to George and leaned down near his ear again.
"I'm going to help you get up and take you to the water."
She linked her arm through his and helped him rise slowly. He opened his eyes after a moment, though they seemed distant.
"How do you feel?" she asked putting an arm around his back.
"Like jelly," he responded, vaguely.
She smiled, and helped him over to the pool.
"Okay, now step in. I've got a hold of you."
He lowered a leg into the pool and she felt him shiver. He brought the other over and she braced his back as he sunk against the wall. The water came to his chest and gently lapped against him.
"Just do what you were doing before," she said, smoothing his hair back. "I'll come in a while to check on you. Take your mind somewhere and let your body rest."
His eyes closed once again and his head lulled against the edge of the pool. She left the room quietly, shutting the door behind her. A smile came to her face as she crossed the room and went to the stove. She heated some tea, now planning on being able to actually drink it. She sighed and sat in a chair and noticed the guitar. She pulled it over to her and held it the way George did and idly strummed at the strings. He made such beautiful music, it saddened her that he hadn't the confidence, nor the support her deserved. She hoped very much that she could help him in the time they had left. She had taken to praying for him, praying that he would find it within himself to make things better, to have faith in himself. He was affecting her as no man had and it was plaguing her with a love that mixed with bitterness. It was a dangerous new feeling and she was afraid it would slip through and that George would see.
She was bitter that she couldn't have him. She had him now, and she fully believed had things worked differently she could have him for all time. With her, in her life . . . their life. She refused to be upset about his past and how things turned out, that was all out of her control. But the future . . . something she was used to having a say in . . . was just as elusive as the past. He himself was how he should be, and yet his life and those that surrounded him were pulling him in another direction. They were two planets, attracted as they traveled on their separate gravitational paths, then shifting never to meet again.
She blinked hard, stopping the tears as they started. It was just unbearable to think that after this time together, after discovering her soul mate, they would be separated. What would she do? What could she do? Rant and rage, cry, tear her hair out . . . then what? Live with a hole in her heart and soul for all the rest of her life. She shivered and pushed the guitar from her, angry that she felt so oddly affected. She was used to playing by her own terms, or understanding what she couldn't help. But she felt now that there was something she could do, but it would never work. It wasn't fair . . . there, she thought it. But it still failed to help. If only there was something . . . if only he wasn't a Beatle . . . but then he'd be eternally stuck in Liverpool, never having been touched by India and wouldn't be with her now. She sighed in disgust. Things were unfolding as they should, she knew, and all good things had to pass. Still . . . this was very unfair . . . two people that could never be joined because of something so trite as extenuating circumstances. But their souls . . . she smiled faintly. Their souls would always be touched and imprinted by each other. She supposed that was the best she could ask for.
The water began to sputter, shaking her from her deep thoughts. She rose and poured herself a cup, and carried it back to the chair. She sipped it, scalding and black, let it burn her mouth. She looked into the depths of the dark liquid and wondered if her soul looked like that right now, heavy and dark. Feeling trapped, she put the cup on the table and stood. She went outside and sat in the sun, letting its rays penetrate her skin. She began to chant, pushing the disheartening thoughts from her mind, in order to calm herself. She couldn't fall apart now.
It helped to pacify her, to bring back serenity. She wasn't sure how long she stayed out-not too long for the heat was becoming intense and she couldn't forget about George. When she felt ready, cleansed, she stood and went back inside and stopped outside of the meditation room. All was quiet and she gently opened the door. He was stretched out in the pool, his head leaned back, eyes closed, the steam rising around him. She supposed it had been about an hour or so, though if he was very deep in meditation she didn't want to disturb him. She grabbed a towel that was at one end of the pool and knelt by George.
"How are you feeling?" she whispered.
His head tilted toward her. "Fabulous," he responded, voice hazy.
"Can I help you up?"
He nodded and slowly opened his eyes. He turned to face her, and she took his hand and steadied him as he stepped up out of the water. She wrapped the towel around him, and put her arm around his waist. She helped him shuffle from the room and out into the lighter dayroom, where he sat on the pillows. He blinked a few times and looked slightly confused. Tala rubbed him with the towel to dry his body and that seemed to rouse him a little.
"Tala, that was incredible. I feel so light, my body is so loose and my head feels much clearer. You're magic, love, I'm convinced."
She smiled and kissed his cheek. "I'm glad you feel so good. I was hoping that would do the trick."
He took her arm and pulled her close and sat her on his lap. He leaned his face toward hers and kissed her gently, her arms then wrapping around his neck, the kiss deepening. He ran his hand through her hair and she lay her head on his shoulder and he held her tightly. Silence settled upon them and they sat this way for minutes. He stroked her arm tenderly and she felt so safe, feeling his warmth and the beating of his heart. She looked up at him then and he was watching her, his eyes shining. She smiled and took his hand and pulled it to her heart. He wrapped her in his arms and sheltered her as she drifted into a light, comfortable sleep.
Chapter 5
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