Nobody Wants To Know Him

XXXV - Think For Yourself

Saturday 19th May 1973
Liverpool, England
5.32pm

When I stormed out of the bathroom, I wasn't quite sure when I was going. It was only when I had walked down the hill where Kenwood was situated on top of that I realised I was on my way to my house. My old house. The one I had moved out of just a measly three months ago.

The journey there hadn't changed at all, but it felt shorter with all the thinking I was doing.

All I wanted was for John to be happy. It was certainly true that he seemed content with how life was right now, and he definitely wasn't the opposite of happy. But I wanted to see him thrilled like he was when he showed me a new song, I wanted to see him get excited over a melody he'd made up. I wanted to see it more, I wanted to see him practically light up.

And I knew that was through him creating music.

So what better way than for him to actually do it properly? And show it to even more people besides myself? I still couldn't understand why he was so against speaking to Paul about it, either. Sure, he mentioned he'd be too pleased since he had kept pestering him for so long, but that couldn't be the only reason, could it?

John was difficult man to read, and I still didn't understand him in many ways. But I had at least thought I had grasped some comprehension of how his brain worked; he'd said one night that he thought I was what he needed.

That I had been able to reinvent the world for him.

The mere memory caused my heart to thrum in my chest. No one other than John had been able to spark within me like he had. It was safe to say I had never cared about anybody more than I had John.

So when I stood on the doorstep of my childhood home without John by my side despite the fact he was the sole occupant of my thoughts, it felt wrong.

I hadn't knocked yet. I was just stood in front of the small step before the door, simply staring at the house number.

My head snapped to the side when I heard movement to my right. I could see Doris, the elderly neighbour, putting out her recycling bin, but it didn't seem she had seen me yet.

Good old Doris Anderson, the woman who is perhaps one of the lone reasons I had even met John in the first place. Without speaking to her on that first night, piquing my curiosity with her description of the family that used to live there, I may not have even visited John on that fateful day.

"Doris! Evenin'," I greeted, watching her slowly turn her head towards me.

She shuffled over to me, grin on her face before pinching my cheeks. "Hello, lovie. My, have ye grown?"

I hadn't the heart to tell her that I was nearing my mid-twenties and had, in fact, not grown for almost ten years. So instead I just gave her a lopsided smile.

"How're ye? And Lloyd?"

"Oh, y'know. Same old, same old. Lloyd's hip's playin' up again, but when's it not?" she said with a crooked grin. "But we're alright, don't you worry about us, dear. Now, how have ye been? Heard ye moved out at long last, so yer father said?"

In my head, I debated telling her about my trip to the house on the hill. She was the first to hear about my plans, after all, and something good had definitely blossomed from it, even if the pair of us had had a bit of a spat. So I decided I would.

"Oh, aye. Well... about that." She raised both eyebrows expectantly. "D'ye remember when I couldn't get into me house? And I asked for yer spare keys?"

I watched as she stared blankly at me before a flash of recognition fluttered across her face.

"And how I mentioned I was goin' to deliver the paper to the guy on that hill?"