Lost & Found | Paul McCartney

Chapter 33

"Tea?" John's attention was glued to a book, placed on his lap and he was scratching his head as I stepped inside the room

"Mint, is it?" I threw my jacket on the wooden chair "I sodding love to."

I poured myself a cup and it was still pleasantly warm and plopped on the couch next to him.

"Are the other places taken?" he looked at me for the first time since I got here "You're an idea too close. Spoilin' me energy in a way."

I giggled "What are you talking about?"

"The law of personal space and wellness." he looked at me deadpan "One must stay six feet away so the other feel good and well rested."

"Fine, fine.." I sat on the carpet and leaned back against the couch, a spot I actually loved "Bloody plonker.".

John was Paul's closest person, I suppose. And that definitely meant there was some good in there - hidden under countless layers of quick witty answers and painful straightforwardness. I was sure he hated me, hell, he probably did but we managed to reach an agreement and be decent roommates, at least for now.

John, being naturally loquacious was immersed in reading a couple of new books his friend Arthur brought the other day. I looked at him, squinting eyes, too stubborn to look through glasses, reading every sentence slowly and attentively which lead me to the thought we weren't arguing mostly because we barely spoke to each other but that was the exact reason I felt so at peace around him, in his house after the emotional frenzy I went through the past couple of months.

Ah... the past couple of months..

*

I was in the kitchen, washing a few dishes we left last night as one of Paul's aunts sent us plenty of homemade food the other day. Paul came back from a quick stop at the studio and locked the door then made a few steps and stopped in front of me in the kitchen, scratching his neck "Leave them 'f you wanna, I'll clean the rest."

I lifted an eyebrow in confusion "Where did that come from?"

"I can help with the household things, can't I?"

"...Sure?" I turned off the faucet "Everything okay with Mary's documents?"

"Who?"

"Mary Hopkin? You said there was a problem with them and you left...forty minutes ago?"

"Oh...right...well, yeah...Seems like Kelly sent the wrong papers to the copyright guy, Mr Evans...so I had to...."

"When will you stop buzzin' like a bee every time there is a problem in there?" I turned around facing him "Realise you're too fitting 'cause you live close to everythin'?"

He turned around and walked towards the yard door and opened it, then he reached for his cigarette box like he always did when the topic wasn't favourable for him "Why are you talking like tha' when you don't know? Mal isn't here, Ringo is....you know what, I don't have to explain."

"You want to do it yourself because you know it will be done well," I said, taking a few steps towards him "I get it...but listen.....don't overwork yourself."

"I'm not.." he exhaled the smoke and looked at me and then at my lips "I'll be fine."

"I'm not sure you're eating well but I'm damn sure you can't sleep and it's been a while"

"I'll be fine, Mo.." He said in a sharp but not loud tone then he looked at me and wrapped an arm around me "Listen.....I'm sorry...It's been a mess at work indeed, jus' don't wanna burden you, s'all."