Debbie Doll | Ringo Starr ✅

12

Two Weeks Later

Despite the carpet, we could still hear Elsie clip-clopping around in her heels. I heard her click her purse shut and then approach us. We were lying in the living room on the floor, the both of us on our backs with my head on Ritchie's stomach and the radio on in the background.

"Right," the two of us cast our eyes upwards to look at Elsie, who was wearing a frumpy dress, her old-looking heels and a green coat that did not match her outfit at all, "your dad and I will be going now."

"Where're you going?" Ritchie asked nonchalantly, stroking the hair on my head and looking back at me to do so.

"We're going to a friend's for dinner." She reminded us. "I told you this morning -"

"We were quite busy this morning, Elsie." Ritchie pointed out. I had been running late for the early shift at the Cavern, so I'd had to rush out the door, and Ritchie was escorting me of course, and so he'd come with me.

"Yes, well..." she bit her rouge lip, the lipstick staining her front tooth. I sighed, not bothering to point it out. "Anyway -" daddy walked into the room.

He took one look at Ritchie and I and sighed, turning away from the two of us.

I sighed again.

We still hadn't fixed our issues from a few weeks ago - he was still ignoring me... and Ritchie. Every time I saw him, I hoped that he would talk to me, but he never did.

"El," daddy said, "are you ready to go?"

She hummed in reply, "just telling the kids not to burn the place down -"

"We're not kids, Elsie." Ritchie pointed out.

"Well Debbie darling is," Elsie paused, "she's sixteen."

I flushed a deep red and chanced a look at Ritchie, who looked furious with his mother for her words.

Daddy left the room and I began to sniffle. Ritch glared at his mother, "just go, Elsie."

She waved goodbye to us, "don't wait up!" We heard her close the front door, and their footsteps going down the path outside.

Ritchie sat up and pulled me into his lap, holding me tightly and pushing my head into his chest so I could sob. Crying seemed to be all I did most days - the relationship that I currently had with daddy was really getting to me.

"Shush," Ritchie cooed at me as he rocked us softly back and forth, "it's okay... when we get to London, you won't ever have to cry again."

That sounded nice. I was sick of crying.

We sat in silence for the next few minutes whilst I composed myself enough to have a conversation.

And then my mood lifted when the presenter on the radio show announced that my favourite song was going to play next, "and next up tonight is Sweets For My Sweet from 'The Searchers'. Get up and dance, ladies and gentlemen, because you won't be able to contain yourselves."

The music started and Ritchie helped me to my feet because he knew that it was my favourite song. We began to dance; twisting our bare feet into the carpet and swinging our hips. His hands were rested on my waist as we both danced around like we had no cares in the world.

We laughed and smiled, enjoying the song until the last note was played and the last word was sung.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" Ritchie asked me.

I had cocked my head to the side, and I was just smiling at him.

"Because you're something else, Ritchie Starkey," I told him, pecking his lips, "and because you always make me smile."