Baby Girl | Ringo Starr ✅

11

The limo stopped outside of a large house in London, about a four hour drive from the hotel. "We're really late." I said, turning my head up to look at Ritchie, who had his arm around my shoulders and my head against his chest.

He hummed in reply, "yeah."

"Will Paul be angry?" The last thing I wanted to do was annoy a Beatle before I'd had a chance to make a proper impression.

"No." Ritchie paused, "they know that I'm always late -"

"They?"

"Paul and Linda -"

"Linda's here too?" I asked nervously and in disbelief.

Ritchie nodded.

"Sir, 7 Cavendish Avenue." The chauffeur said as he turned around in his seat to face us.

"Thank you." Ritchie answered, "open the door."

The chauffeur nodded and got out of the car, coming round to open our car door. Ritchie got out first and then turned to offer me a hand out of the car. I took it and we were soon standing side-by-side on the large drive of Paul McCartney's London residence.

He led me up the front steps before ringing the doorbell once, taking a step back and waiting for somebody to open the door.

A woman with blonde hair, blue eyes and a few freckles on her beautiful but ageing face opened the door. She smiled immediately and called over her shoulder, "Paul! They're here!" She then turned back to us, throwing a teasing "at last," at us.

Ritchie chuckled and let go of my hand to step forward and take the woman into his arms, embracing her tightly before pulling away and standing beside me, not retaking my hand, much to my disappointment.

"And who's this, Ringo?" The woman asked, looking directly at me. I blushed and Ritchie chuckled when he saw how red I was.

"This is Alex," he replied, "Alex, this is Paul's wife, Linda."

Linda McCartney, the woman, smiled at me. "Alex, it's lovely to meet you." Much to my surprise, she stepped over the threshold of her house and took me into her arms. It took me several seconds before I raised my arms and hugged her back. When she pulled away, she held me at arm's length, "I love you dress! Wherever did you get it?"

"I had someone pick it up for her." Ritchie answered for me.

"It's lovely." Linda said, "I'd love to have one just like it. Ringo, if you can find out where it came from and let me know, I'd be most grateful -"

"Linda!" We heard a male voice calling from inside, a distinct Liverpudlian tone to his loud voice. "Shut the door! You're letting the cold in!"

Linda turned her head to smile at her husband who hadn't come to the door to greet us.

"Ignore Paul," she said, mostly to me, "he's in a bit of the mood because the nanny handed her resignation in this morning." Linda paused, "James is a handful."

"Your son?" I asked politely. She nodded.

"My youngest." She took my arm and led me inside the house, Ritchie following behind. She was immediately making me feel welcome and I was very grateful to her for it. "I have four children; Heather, Mary, Stella and James. Heather is twenty-three, Mary is sixteen, Stella is fourteen, and James is eight."

I nodded, unsure of what to say to that.

"Now," Linda said, putting me out of the misery of having to find a response to her, "Paul is just in here -"