Yeah Yeah Yeah (Beatles/Paul McCartney)

9. Sorry to Inconvenience You

October 1965
London

Paul

I glanced over my shoulder and, sure enough, Jane was halfway across the room. Her eyes were on me as she walked confidently, her hips swaying beneath her knee-length black dress. Something about her expression reminded me of the day we first met when her mixture of innocence and self-assuredness had fascinated me.

Not caring that we were in a crowd of people, I threw my arms around her and pressed my lips to her cheek.

"Hi," I whispered as I planted another light kiss on the tip of her nose. "This is a surprise."

"A good one, I hope?" She smiled up at me, but there was something off about her. She bit the corner of her lower lip as if she was unsure about being here.

I furrowed my brow. "'Course it's a good one; I've missed you."

It's possible that she was about to reply that she missed me too, but we'll never know. Because just then, John sidled up with Cynthia in tow.

"Hiya, Jane," he said, slinging an arm around her neck. "Long time, no see."

His words were innocent enough, but the tone suggested that she'd been missing in action for far too long. I realized that he, like me, was both hungover and drunk, and that didn't bode well for this interaction.

"Hello, John; hi, Cynthia," Jane said politely, wriggling out from under his arm and returning to my side. "Congratulations on the MBE."

"I'm convinced it was meant for The Bottles," he said, and Jane looked at me questioningly. I shrugged and tried to make a smooth getaway.

"Right, so we're just gonna--"

"Surprised you graced us with your presence," John continued. He scratched his head as if pondering one of the great mysteries of the world. "Can't remember the last time I saw you, really. Do you remember when we saw her last, Cyn?"

"Don't be such a plonker, John," I replied.

"I'm just saying hello!" he said, hands held up in protest. "Just tryin' to be friendly and all that."

"Well, try harder," I muttered, giving him a look that he studiously ignored. I rubbed the back of my neck, willing my headache to go away because I wasn't up for whatever this was.

"John, let's--" Cynthia tried to distract him elsewhere, but my bandmate was having none of it.

"So, Jane," he continued undeterred as he took a drag of his cig. "Paul tells me that you're kickin' him out of your house, is that right?"

Jane whirled around and looked at me. "Is that what you told him? That I'm kicking you out?"

"No!" I protested. "I just asked if he knew a good estate agent! Besides, it's time for me to move anyway; your family can't like all the girls always hanging around."

"There do seem to be a lot of girls always hanging around ya," John noted, causing Cyn to hiss John! under his breath.

Jane turned to me. "What does that mean?"

"I mean all the fans outside of the house," John explained patiently as if this conversation was a burden to him. "Like Paul just said."

"He's off his face, Jane," I said. "Ignore him. There's no..."

I trailed off as she continued to stare at me pointedly.

"It's not as if we sit around in the studio gossiping like broody hens!" I exclaimed, starting to get exasperated. "I just asked the lads if they had an estate agent to recommend. Is that suddenly a crime? I haven't seen you in forever, love, let's get outta here and--"