Sweet and Lovely

George fell out of the car with the others, stood and shivered on the unforgiving concrete, would never get used to having to get up that early. He crossed his arms tightly across his body to stave off the early morning chill, and the four Beatles shuffled and shifted until in the distance they saw the train approaching. It slowed, it stopped, a door opened and their director leaned out and waved. "Morning!" he called, too cheerily as always. "Come on in, come and meet the girls!"

"The wha'?" blinked Paul.

"There's supposed to be some girls on the train with us." John pushed ahead of the others and moved towards the train. "Didn't you read the script?"

"No, and neither did you."

John grinned tightly and pulled himself up the steps onto the train, followed by the other sleepy bedraggled Beatles. George was last on, slightly intrigued, despite his bleariness, at the thought of meeting some non fan female company. As were they all. Richard Lester, still beaming far too enthusiastically for such an unholy time of day, led them along the narrow corridor to the car dining area. "Ladies," he called as they arrived. "Do meet the Beatles." And he gestured with a generous arm towards the four schoolgirls sitting at one of the tables.

"How d'ya do! I'm Paul." And Paul leaned down to shake the four hands, one at a time, his charming smile firmly in place.

"I know!" A giggle.

They might have introduced themselves, these schoolgirls who weren't, but George didn't hear. He stood back, still tired, still not feeling sociable, his gaze moving around the group, blonde, pretty…

She glowed. Her blonde shining hair was like gold, her eyes were blue drowning pools…

It was his turn. Was it? He leaned over. He shook three hands; he shook hers. He looked into those eyes as she looked up at him. "Hi," he managed. With further effort, he smiled.

She smiled back.

He collected himself sufficiently to let go of her hand.

Dick Lester was rounding them up to take them to make up. George ripped himself away.

"Make up," Lester called, by way of ushering them along.

George  took a glance back before they left the dining car. She was looking at him. He, unexpectedly, astonishingly, felt a flush of excitement, of joy even, which had nothing to do with sex.

"Bit obvious, weren't you!" Paul was laughing, not unkindly but that made no difference.

"Right up your street. Go Georgie." Ringo's grin was also kind. Ringo was usually kind.

George walked with the others towards the cramped carriage which served for the filming as a make up room. He found he had no answer to the other's teasing. He found he didn't care.
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"Yeah, but none of your five bar gates and over sort of thing."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

George had no idea what it was supposed to mean, he just cringed at the stupid line.

"Prisoners?"

Nice voice. Very nice. A bit posh. But that was ok. Most people were posher than he was. She hastened out of the room. "Cut." The scene had to be done again, there was a noise from outside the carriage. "Take a break, we have to set up again." She was just along the corridor. George found himself idly strolling along the corridor. She was accepting a cigarette from one of the other girls. His lighter was in his hand without voluntary action. He flicked it on.