★彡ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴅᴏᴡɴ | ᴘᴀᴜʟ ᴍᴄᴄᴀʀᴛɴᴇʏ彡★ ✅

★彡[ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 7]彡★

★彡[ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ]彡★

Everyday for the next month, Paul came into the greasy spoon where Abby worked. He was usually accompanied by one of the other Beatles, but when they were busy or teased him too much about 'that waitress bird' he went by himself.

And Abby was always there, happy to serve him. The two of them didn't get to chat much because Arthur was always up her back and telling her not to waste time by small-talking to customers, but they were definitely on good terms.

Paul got to the cafe at about half past eleven, and the bell above the door rang as he opened it and crossed the threshold, his doe eyes immediately darting around the place as he looked for the brunette beauty about whom he had begun to fantasise about.

But he couldn't see her.

She wasn't there.

Paul went over to the counter and cleared his throat. The red haired waitress, who had only served him twice, was there. She smiled, "can I help you?"

"Is Abby here?" He asked, once again looking around the place.

"She had a family emergency."

"When?"

"About twenty minutes ago." The waitress paused, waiting for Paul's order. When he didn't give it, she sighed. "She had to go get her sister from school. If you hurry you might catch her -"

"Why does she always have to get her sister?" Paul had noticed that whilst he always called in during the day, whenever he frequented the cafe twice in a day and came after three, Abby was never there. "What about her parents?"

"Her mum died two years ago, and they don't talk to their dad."

Paul instantly felt his guts rile inside of him. How could he be so impertinent? How could he be so inconsiderate?

He himself had lost his mother at a young age - much younger than Abby had - but he had had his father to bring him up. Abby didn't, and instead she was being a mother to her little sister. And not a bad job, he was sure. She was always working, and left on time everyday to get her sister from school.

"You think I can catch her?"

The other waitress shrugged and then nodded. "Her sister goes to Heathmount. They'll be walking down the main road, most likely -"

Paul turned to make his way out of the cafe, but then he heard the voice of Abby's boss, a man who he had heard her call Arthur.

"And if you catch her then tell her she's on thin ice here!"

Paul wanted to turn around, march over to the man and slap him... but he didn't. He swallowed his anger and annoyance and instead hurried out of the door and over to his car, grateful that today was not one of those days where he was being tailed by tens of fans.

Whilst he knew that he had a few that were following him, Paul knew that once he got into his car it would be a lot easier to lose them. Afterall, they were young girls who didn't have access to a car, and mostly had to rely on public transport.

He drove to Heathmount Primary School, which he passed everyday on his way to and from the recording studio on Abbey Road, and then he slowed down by a few miles an hour, turning his head left and right to try and see if he could spot Abby.

Paul was halfway to giving up when he came to a set of traffic lights. He stopped the car and put the handbrake on, watching the road in front of him. Nobody was crossing for several seconds, and then all of a sudden there was two people in the road.

Abby and her sister.

Abby was holding her little sister's hand, and Paul could see that she was talking to the girl.

With a grin, he wound down his window and stuck his head out of it. "I say!" He exclaimed in a mock posh accent which definitely caught the attention of the two, "where are you going?!"

He thought he saw Abby sigh. She got to the other side of the road with her sister and the two of them began to walk off. Paul waited for the green light before he drove the car again and parked it in a spot at the side of the road. He leaned over in the front of the car and unwound the window on the other side, where Abby would be walking past.

"Abby!" He called when he saw her approaching. He heard her sigh that time. "Where are you going?" Paul asked her.

"Home, Paul." Abby didn't bring her sister to the window. Instead, she held Mollie away from it as she craned her neck a little to talk to him... but Mollie listened intently.

"Can I give you a lift?" Paul asked, "it looks like it's going to rain."

Sure enough, the sky was grey and very cloudy, and the air was thick and heavy.

"No thank you." Abby answered sharply. She was tired and she was annoyed; Mollie had been sent home early from school because she had said something very unkind to another student. "We'll be fine." She looked at her sister and then snapped, "Mollie, don't do that to your shoes! You'll scuff them and we can't afford -"

Abby cut herself off when she realised what she was about to say... and in front of Paul, too.

Paul, who was always dressed immaculately, had a very expensive looking car and came into the cafe daily to spend a decent amount of money each time. Paul, who had a bit of a funny accent but was very nice and polite - and handsome.

Paul.

"Goodbye, Paul." Abby began to walk away, this time letting go of her sister's hand. The little girl followed her, and Paul sighed as he wound up the windows.

He turned the car around in the middle of the road, reluctant to embarrass Abby any further. It was obvious to him that she didn't like charity - no matter how badly she might need the help. Paul wished that he could do something to help her and her sister.