I Learnt To Love In Liverpool | George Harrison ✅

♥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐲-𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ♥

23rd December 1975

"And then, Jack," I said, "Father Christmas comes down the chimney with your presents and leaves them under the Christmas tree."

"How does he know that I've been good all year?" My six-year-old asked as he looked out of the window and across the sky, which was full of clouds. For December, it was a good sky - the weather was fine, it wasn't raining or snowing. It was quite bright, and since it was only the six of us on the plane as passengers, the pilot didn't have too much to worry about.

We were on our way to New York for the Christmas holidays, and to take Dhani and Julian to meet their new little half-brother, Sean.

"Because he watches over you all year." George said from across the plane, laying on a suede settee which he had commandeered as soon as we had boarded very early that morning.

"He sees everything that you do, Jack." Julian added, looking up from the game of monopoly which he was playing on the floor with Dhani and Nancy.

"Everything?" Jack asked in a slightly worried tone, turning to look at me for clarification. He sounded more like a Scouser than my other three children did; he spent a lot of time with George - more time than even Nancy had done as a younger child - so I assumed that he had picked it up from him, because George's accent was still very thick despite being away from Liverpool for over ten years.

I nodded, "everything."

Jack swallowed audibly and went a bright red. "Mummy, I don't think that Father Christmas will bring me any presents this year." He looked at his hands, wringing them together in his lap.

"Why's that, dear?" I asked him.

Jack was silent.

"If you don't tell me then I can't tell Father Christmas that you're sorry." I said, trying to push him into telling me what he had done because I couldn't think of anything that he had done in the last year that was bad enough for him to think that Father Christmas wouldn't bring him any presents.

He remained silent for several seconds. I looked over at George, who was looking very interested as he watched us both from a few feet away.

When Jack still hadn't spoken after about three minutes, George sat up, "come 'ere, son." He gestured to the now-empty space beside him. Jack got out of the seat beside me and hurried over to George, settling against his father's side and smiling as George held him.

Because Jack was the youngest, we all babied him. He loved to be cuddled and cooed at because of it.

"Dad?" George hummed in reply, "do Uncle John and Yoko have a chimney?"

George thought for a second and then replied, "I don't know, Jack. Why?"

"Because Father Christmas can't bring presents for Julian and Dhani and Nancy if not." He answered in a tone of voice that replied that his answer should have been obvious.

"I'm sure he'll find another way in, darling." I shot the three older children a look. They were all narrowing their eyes at Jack.

None of them believed in Father Christmas anymore, but they played along for Jack's sake - though I saw the scepticism on all of their faces whenever Jack or George and me talked about the big man in the red coat.

I continued to listen to George telling Jack about Father Christmas, finding his voice very calming. I drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

"Mrs Harrison?" I began to gain consciousness, but I kept my eyes firmly shut. My mouth was dry and my head ached, my back sore because of the angle at which I had been sleeping at. I hated flying. "Mrs Harrison?" I opened my eyes slowly and saw an air hostess kneeling down beside my chair. "Mrs Harrison," she said with a big smile on her bright red lips, "we're just about ready to land. Would you mind redoing your seat belt?"

I nodded, too tired to reply verbally. She thanked me and then hurried off to take her own seat for the descent.

I looked across the plane at George, who had an arm around two sleeping children; Jack on his right and Nancy on his left, the two of them had their heads rested on his chest.

"New York, eh?" I said quietly, not wanting to disturb them. Dhani and Julian were strapped into their seats now, talking to each other with their heads ducked very close together. I loved how close my two oldest boys were, though I sometimes wished that they would include Nancy in some of their games and secret conversations; I felt that she felt like an only child due to her being the only girl and also a few years older than Jack.

George nodded, humming, "I remember the first time we touched down 'ere. February 1964."

"I was in London." I remembered, "pregnant with Dhani -"

"I remember." George paused, "who'd have thought we'd be back?"

"Do you ever feel old sometimes?"

"Old?" He echoed with a chuckle. "Em, you're thirty-two."

I nodded, "I know, Georgie, but it feels like just last week that I was twenty, and we moved to London. It's like yesterday that I had Dhani and Nancy - even Jack - I don't know how I got to be twenty-five, let alone thirty-two."

George chuckled again, "Em, you're thirty-two. When you're Paul's age, or even John's, then you can complain -"

"Paul's one year older than me."

"So let's have this conversation in six months, when you'll both be a year older."

I thought about that for a few seconds, furrowing my eyebrows as I thought about who had one in that situation.

After a minute, I sighed. "You're a headache-and-a-half, George Harrison."

George laughed so loud that he woke Jack up. Jack looked like he was going to cry, but George caught him quick enough to stop him. "Hey, son," George said, "we're in New York!"

Jack squealed in delight. Nancy woke up and abruptly sat upright. I laughed at her. She looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"Aw," I said, opening my arms, "it's alright, Nance. Your brother was just a bit loud." She got up and walked away from George, coming to settle in the seat beside mine. I made sure that she was strapped in properly and then I put my arms around my daughter.

The pilot's voice echoed throughout the plane as he spoke through the intercom, "good morning, Harrison family. We're beginning our descent into John F. Kennedy airport, New York. It's been a pleasure flying you today and I want to thank you for the Christmas bonus."

Ah yes, George had paid the pilot's fee twice over, calling it a 'Christmas present' from the Harrison family.

My husband was very generous - in fact, the media sometimes called him the generous Beatle - there were worse names, I supposed. Paul was the pretty one who ended the band, and John was the one who had married a lunatic... and Ringo... Ringo was known as the one who got lucky.

George had gotten off pretty lightly with his name.

"New York here we come!" Nancy squealed as she clenched her fists in excitement as we felt the pilot begin to bring the plane down, readying for landing at JFK airport.