If I Fell│John Lennon/Beatles FanFiction

Chapter 51 - 10.July.1964

Chapter 51

July 10, 1964

I traced my finger around the rim of the glass that held a fresh pour of scotch. My parents' house was silent, and that was the way I wanted it. Only days had passed since the sixth anniversary of my mother's death, and tomorrow was going to be the first time visiting her at the cemetery alone.

It was maybe a bit daft to continue the tradition without John...there wasn't anything special about the eleventh of July. It wasn't the actual date of either of our mum's passing. But it felt wrong to break the tradition, even if it was all wrong anyway since John wouldn't be with me.

I'd made my way to Liverpool a few days earlier, with most of my belongings. After the disastrous evening out, Catherine and I had quickly found a flat in London and were moving at the beginning of August. Until then, my plan was to rest and spend time sorting through my mother's things...and trying to find her damned pearls. It was still eerie staying at my parents' house. I despised doing it. But I needed to feel close to her in some way, even if that meant sleeping in the house that I bloody hated.

The ache in my heart for her was worse than it had been in years, maybe because of what I'd just been through with Catherine, or maybe because I didn't have John anymore. Either way, the grief created an awful heaviness in my chest, one that I found difficult to breathe through. But the scotch helped dull the pain.

And I'd needlessly put myself through another round of torture. The boys were in town for the day to attend the Liverpool premiere of their first film. For some daft reason, I watched the evening news just to catch a glimpse of them, even though I'd seen George and Ringo just days before and I'd fallen asleep in John's arms the night I got mugged. No matter how hard I tried not to watch, I gave in to see the boys arriving home to the 200,000 fans waiting for them in the streets of Liverpool. And I couldn't help the massive grin that grew on my face as I watched them smile and wave at their adoring fans.

I knew they were a bit uneasy about their homecoming. The streets winding toward Town Hall were filled with people they knew. While I could see on their faces that they were thrilled to bits, I knew they were uncomfortable being thought of as local heroes. John whispered to me once that he was afraid their mates would think they'd sold out, especially showing up in suits, and he was sure that in a way, they had.

John was so close and yet so far away. I hadn't seen or spoken to him since he disappeared from my bed after that horrid night. And I certainly didn't expect anything to change. He'd been there when I needed him, but it didn't change anything between us. We were still broken, shattered, never to be repaired. And I was still dealing with the aftermath of it all, hoping that time would start healing my wounds, although it sure as hell didn't feel like it.

I reached forward and grabbed my glass of scotch. The growing bit of haze in my mind was lovely, and I hoped it would help me sleep because falling asleep on my own was nearly impossible.

A knock echoed through the house, and I nearly choked on my drink. My heart hammered as my brow wrinkled at the sound. Who in the hell was showing up so bloody late?

And then my mind went to ridiculous places. Was someone trying to break in? Of course bloody not. Why in the hell would they knock first...what kind of robbers announced themselves? The shite kind, I'd bet—the ones who didn't do much robbing.

The knock came again, and this time I could tell it was coming from the back door.

I rubbed at the ache in my head, the one that had only let up a bit since the man slammed my head against the cement wall. With a shaky hand, I placed my drink on the coffee table and stood. A wave of dizziness crashed over me, making it feel like the ground was moving beneath my feet. But the feeling faded after a few seconds like it usually did.