If I Fell│John Lennon/Beatles FanFiction

Chapter 66 - 2.Sept.1965

Chapter 66 

September 2, 1965

I clutched my stomach and refused to look at John. Anthony was driving us home to Weybridge after our flight from America, and I was moments from vomming all over the inside of John's beloved all black custom-made Rolls-Royce. And if he told me to hold it in one more time, like I had any control over the situation, I was going to lose it.

A doctor in Los Angeles, who'd been sworn to secrecy, confirmed my pregnancy. I was now estimated to be just over seven weeks pregnant or 'knocked up' as John liked to say with a shameless grin, which always resulted in my elbow in his side, the bloody wanker.

Even though I was a nervous wreck, and the logistics of it all would be a total nightmare, the strange and unnerving thrill of knowing I was pregnant with our child outweighed almost everything else. It was a feeling unlike anything I'd ever experienced before, a combination of constant worry and growing love for a baby I'd yet to lay eyes on.

Not a day went by without me retching, sometimes one of my meals reappearing in a toilet, and other times just suffering through the nausea. I wasn't sure how a tiny thing that barely looked human could wreak such havoc on my body, but I was desperate for it to end.

And what a ruddy lie it was to call it morning sickness...sure, it did sometimes hit me in the morning, but the nausea was unpredictable and came at the most inopportune times. I'd heaved my supper twice into a rubbish bin backstage at one of the boys' concert venues, once right in front of poor Brian. It really wasn't the way I wanted him to find out, though it didn't seem to bother John. But it was impossible to forget the look Brian gave me as I retched...

Brian's eyes were fixed on me with a wary expression on his face as he rubbed at his brow.

John grabbed my hair as he grinned at Eppy. "Oh, did I forget to mention I knocked her up?"

"Oh hell, John," Brian murmured, shaking his head as I heaved again, the smell of the rubbish bin not sitting well with my stomach. "Just happened to slip your mind, then, is that it?"

"Been rather busy, tour and all."

Brian let out a heavy sigh. "I suppose congratulations are in order?"

"We'll be needin' that weddin' a bit sooner, I think," John replied, his tone still beyond jovial. "John Junior will be here in April."

As I picked my head out of the rubbish bin and wiped my hand over my mouth, I mumbled, "Over my dead body will we name this baby after you."

My stomach churned again, which snapped me back to reality. We were still a few minutes from home, and I wasn't sure how much longer breathing through the nausea was going to work. I pressed my head against the headrest and gritted my teeth. It was my last-ditch effort to not vom because John would surely murder me if I heaved in the car, especially considering how bloody knackered he was.

I reached for my purse, thinking that a stick of gum might help settle my stomach, but it wasn't anywhere near me.

"Where's my purse?" I asked, trying to breathe through the unrelenting feeling.

"In the back. Anthony'll get it for you once we're home," John said from next to me, yawning as he spoke. The car's windows were tinted, and barely any sunlight made it through the shaded glass, but he still insisted on wearing sunglasses. "You've got that look again."