I Learnt To Love In Liverpool | George Harrison ✅

♥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐎𝐧𝐞 ♥

I sat down opposite my brother, ignoring his silent plea for a cup of tea. I had missed him far too much to leave his company for a few minutes to boil the kettle. Perhaps George will be happy to make some in a moment, I thought to myself. I opened my mouth, but all I could do is smile at Paul.

"Don't look at me like that, Em." Paul furrowed his well-shaped eyebrows.

"Like what?" I asked, the smile hanging slightly askew on my face, "like I'm happy to see you? I am, Paul."

"No," he sighed, "like I've got all the answers. You've always done it."

"You have got all the answers, Paul. Whenever I've had a question, you gave me the answer. You're my big brother, of course I look at you like the sun rises out of your arse."

He chuckled, "that's a new way of putting it -"

"An Americanism." I replied, "I picked it up from Linda -"

"My wife teaching my little sister naughty words?" Paul teased, pretending that he was surprised, "I'll have to have a word with her - punish her, even."

I pretended to gag, "oh please, I'm going to boke!"

Paul laughed, "serves you right, you little minx!" We both laughed and it felt like old times. I wondered if he ever thought about when we had been younger and I had first come to Liverpool. In the year or so that I had lived with dad, Mike and Paul before we'd moved to London, we'd become like a real family, and it had been heart wrenching to have to leave - though I knew that I would be safe and cared for as long as Paul was around and George was at my side.

"What're you thinking about?" I asked Paul suddenly when I realised that he had gone quiet and was staring at the patterned carpet, his brows knitted together and his chin perched on his fist, his arm leaning on the side of the armchair which he had settled himself in.

"Hm?" He hummed in reply, pulling his attention back to me.

I crossed my arms against my chest, "you were so deep in thought that you didn't even hear me, Paulie," I paused, "what were thinking about?"

"Oh, um," he bit his lip, turning red. Ah, so he was embarrassed about whatever it was, then.

"The fact that you just told your sister that you were going to punish your wife?" I asked, only half-joking with him.

He chuckled quietly and then shook his head, his long hair moving along with him like it had a life of its own.

"No," Paul replied, "I was thinking about the new baby."

"Yours and Linda's?" I raised an eyebrow, "why?"

"Well I'm..." Paul sighed, "I'm a bit nervous - what if I'm no good as a father?"

"Oh, Paul," I breathed as I got off of the settee and came to sit on the side of his armchair, putting my arms around his neck and pulling his head to my stomach, giving him comfort. "Of course you'll be great as a father. You're great with Heather -"

"But babies are different, aren't they?" Paul asked rhetorically, "babies need constant looking after. With Heather, I can leave her for a bit to play with her dolls or to watch some television."

I tried a different tactic, "what makes you think that you wouldn't be a good father?"

"I just have a bad feeling -"

"You've been great with Dhani, and Nancy and even Jack." I pointed out, "and I remember how you were when Julian was born. Paul, you wouldn't put him down." I paused, "and Ringo's two love you, too."