𝕃𝕖𝕥 𝕀𝕥 𝔹𝕖 | 𝕁𝕠𝕙𝕟 𝕃𝕖𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕟 ✅

2

27th September, 1960

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Something told Paul to walk the longer way to school that morning, and he wasn't sure why. He was late anyway, and the last thing he needed was to be even later, but he couldn't stop his feet from taking him along the River Mersey. His guitar tapped familiarly against his back as he walked, but he barely noticed.

Paul was too busy thinking about the previous night's show, when he had been probably more intoxicated than was sensible to be, and had had a massive argument with Stu, who held the title of John's best friend and confidante, as well as bassist of their band, which was currently in the middle of names.

Paul ground his teeth together and buried his hands deeper inside his pockets, wishing that he had opted to bring a coat to school with him - it was unusually cold for the beginning of September, and he sighed as he realised that they were probably in for an even longer and colder winter than normal.

The shore of the Mersey was covered in pebbles and stones, and as Paul walked along it, he kicked them up and watched as they skittered along. He liked the sounds that they made as they scraped and ground against each other. He hummed a song - he wasn't sure what it was, but he made a mental note to remember it and work out how to play it on the guitar for John. The two were always writing songs together, though it was usually in the company of Stu, who could be quite critical of Paul's writing, considering the fact that he himself had never actually written anything for the band -

That sound didn't sound usual.

Paul increased his speed, stopping only when he reached where the odd sound had come from.

There was a black hardback book there, and it was about the size of an LP. He knelt down and picked it up. A few sheets of loose paper floated to the floor and he knelt down again to retrieve them. Intrigued, he sat on the slightly wet rocks, ignoring the part of his mind which kept reminding him that he was going to be late for the Inny's registration. He opened the book and found that it was full of sketches.

Maybe John knows who it belongs to, Paul thought as he flicked through the drawings.

They were quite good, actually - in fact, he had never seen a drawing as good as the one in front of him, which seemed to be of the Liver Building. It was incredibly detailed, and he wondered if he knew who the book belonged to. He wanted to give it back to them and to tell them how talented they were.

The sketchbook had been abandoned on the bank of the Mersey, but was only a little wet. If somebody had thrown it into the river then it would have been ruined. Had somebody thrown it onto the stones and hoped that the tide would take it in time? Or was somebody hopelessly looking for it, trying desperately to remember where they had last had it? Did they need this for a class project? If he handed it in, would the person think that he had stolen it?

Paul was always overthinking things, and this was one of them. He checked his watch and his eyes widened. He stood up and made sure that he wouldn't drop any of the loose pages before he left the shore of the river, practically running along the streets as he realised that he was sure to receive a caning for how late he was. Paul was confident that even John had never been this late to school.

But he had to find the owner of the sketchbook to return it to them. He added another thing to his mental list, which seemed to be getting longer and longer every time he thought about it.

Keep the book safe until you find who it belongs to.

Paul hurtled through the deserted halls of the Liverpool Institute High School for Boys. He was trying to be as silent as possible whilst doing so, but he was failing miserably. Peter Sissons, the head boy and prefect at the Inny, stepped out from behind a set of lockers and looked at Paul. He clicked his tongue, wagged his finger at his peer, and then Paul knew that he was in for it.

"Late, McCartney." Sissons took out a stupid little notebook that he had been given by the headmaster in order to make down a student's crime in the Inny. "Report to Headmaster Edwards immediately."

Paul sighed and nodded, turning around and heading towards the headmaster's office. He clutched the book tightly and hoped that the owner, wherever they were, would not be receiving a caning for not having their work, much unlike himself.