Two Different Roads

A Hard Day's Night

June, 1966
Summer, the season for touring. The band had grown to hate it. To begin with,, they saw very little of the many cities around the world they visited. Their fame kept them virtual prisoners in their hotel rooms. Even the concerts had become a complete waste of time. They couldn't hear themselves play over the volume of their screaming fans.
It was all quite stressful for Ellen as well. Her job on the tours consisted of dealing with the seemingly endless series of petty problems Brian couldn't or wouldn't handle himself.
No doubt John Lennon was included in that description. He was the most likely to complain, cause trouble when he grew overly bored. Although not part of her official duties of course, Ellen's relationship with the temperamental guitarist certainly made things easier for everyone. She was his distraction, his stabilizing element, which could sometimes feel like a full-time occupation in itself. She spent nearly every minute of every day by his side even while attempting to attend to matters pertaining to her job because he wanted it that way and would have become downright insufferable if she hadn't.
There were advantages to all the forced time together as well of course. Even John couldn't manage to have sex twenty-four hours a day, so creative alternative solutions had to be invented to fill all the odd hours he wasn't mounting or attempting to mount her.
They spent long afternoons talking about any number of things whilst smoking cigarette after cigarette, read to each other, and played cards with the others along with marathons of John's favorite game, monopoly. He loved it so much that he always brought his own set on tour. He even had rituals that must be adhered to. He stood when rolling the dice, and was determined to have boardwalk and park place. He really didn't care if he won or lost so long as those two properties were his.
He had even begun trying to teach Ellen how to play the guitar in free moments. Her favorite times though were the intimate, romantic moments they shared which might or might not end up with making love.

They had both read up on the art of massage and had taken to giving each other almost nightly, relaxing, sensuous rub-downs to ease the frequent tension. There were the modeling sessions John requested as well in which she would try on whatever new clothes he'd bought for her. He became an amateur shutterbug, taking a great number of photographs of her both in states of dress and UNDRESS.
Initially, she'd been reluctant to allow this last, but he assured her they were for him alone, and they didn't appear pornagraphic in any way. They were arty (not surprising from an amateur artist) and beautiful. He even learned to do time-lapse photos in which he took shots of the two of them together that were tasteful but fairly explicit at times and left no doubt at all as to the nature of their relationship.

And so the days passed tolerably, even sometimes pleasantly. Germany was the first stop on the tour immediately followed by Tokyo, Japan.
Since the boys couldn't really go out, vendors actually came to the hotel to display their wares. John purchased a few things for both his wife AND lover. He gave Ellen a beautiful, silk kimono and a jade necklace with matching earrings.
At one point he attempted to escape out into the city with her and Paul. They didn't make it far before being caught and escorted back to the hotel.
This unpleasantness was a harbinger of things to come. Nothing could have prepared them for exactly HOW unpleasant their next stop in the Philippines would become though.
II

Ellen had gradually developed into a light sleeper during her years with John, largely due to the many unexpected awakenings she had been subjected to in almost countless hotel rooms in cities around the world as well as the knowledge that she might have to make herself invisible at any moment to avoid being publicly exposed. And so despite being up all night with Lennon she was wide awake instantly when Ringo came charging through the door that morning in Manilla.

"Wake up Lennie! "He's got to see this!"
She quickly disentangled herself from her still unconscious lover and attempted to rouse him. Unlike her, Lennon slept like a rock and didn't appreciate in the slightest being gotten up before he was ready.
"Lay off Ellie! Didn't I wear you out enough already!"
"John, Ritchie is here and it seems important."
Eventually they were all in dressing gowns sitting cross-legged on the floor before the TV in the next room. The Beatles were obviously the topic of discussion, which was normal, but in this case the outpouring seemed decidedly hostile.
"It's that bloody luncheon we were supposed to go to at President Marcos' palace yesterday. The whole country is in a snit because we didn't show up."
"But Eppy told them we weren't going. Can't they take no for an answer?"

There was a knock on the door of the suite. Ellen answered it as John and Ringo continued to sit transfixed before the screen. It was Paul and George.
"Have you seen the telly?"
"We're watching it now Geo," she answered.
They entered the sitting room to join the others, but before they had even managed to sit down the other Beatle Roadie, Neil Aspinall, was at the door. They pounced on him at once.

"What's going on? Are they really pissed off?"
"Apparently. They have discontinued room service and every other service as well. We are going to have to get our own cabs to the airport and carry all the luggage ourselves."
"We don't even get breakfast?"
"That's the least of our worries. Brian suggests we pack and get the hell out of the country as soon as possible. I can wait for you and take you to Eppy, Ellen."
"Sod off, Neil. She's not going anywhere without me. If Eppy doesn't like it too bad. She might be his employee, but she's MY girl and I'm looking out for her. "
"John, he might need me."
"I need to keep you safe. Stay here with me."
There were no more arguments. It would be pointless with John. They all packed in record time. Ellen didn't even bother to put up her hair, merely ran a brush through it quickly and let it hang loose. Lennon helped her latch her suitcase then placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She grasped it, squeezed it, and gave him a light kiss. Silently they seemed to acknowledge the unease they were both feeling.
They emerged from the room hand in hand. Within minutes they had met up with the rest of the entourage and were on the way downstairs. When they attempted to exit the hotel it became apparent their troubles were only beginning.
Despite propriety John kept Ellen close to his side, her hand in his as they shoved their way through an angry crowd to a car.

Things took an even more sinister turn once they reached the airport. They were jostled, heckled. The elevators were shut down, and all the airport staff refused to assist them in any way.
The final escalation occurred in the lounge as they waited to board the plane. The shoving and manhandling degenerated into actual physical violence. The group and staff were kicked, punched, and spat on.
Even Ellen as a woman did not escape ALL of it. Her hair was pulled, the shoulder of her blouse torn. Suddenly someone yelled, "Beatle Puta!"
"Who the fuck said that? I'll bloody well kill 'em!"
"John, it's all right."
"They called you a whore Ellie!"
"I don't care. Let's just get out of here."
A wild punch landed. Now it was her turn to want to retaliate.
"Don't you touch him!"
John actually had to take her hand to prevent her from striking back at the closest person, which now unfortunately seemed to be Ringo.
Finally the worst was over. They made it to the plane and flew away to New Delhi, India for three days of much-needed recuperation.

It took some time after their arrival before anyone was able to calm down much less relax. Alone in their room, John looked Ellen over thoroughly. "Are you all right, Ellie?"
"I will be, but I was really frightened."
"Me too, but everything's going to be OK now. We're together."
He took her in his arms, held her tightly. "I'd never let anyone hurt you ever."
He kissed her, a kiss of comfort and more than a little desperation. In minutes they were in bed, naked, making love.
It was only afterward that they actually felt somewhat normal again. They were alive, in love and could actually find a little humour in their ordeal.
"My champion-I thought you were going to thump that bastard who hit me."
"No one messes with my man," she smiled.
"Am I El? Am I yours?"
"You want to be?"
She was teasing, but there was a seriousness in his voice when he said, "I asked you first."
"I love you Johnny, and I'll gladly have you as mine...after all, it's not every man who threatens murder just because someone calls their girl a name," she kidded again.
He called you a whore, Beatle whore."
"Well..."
"Stop right there. I won't have you thinking that way even for a second...besides if you were, you're so good even I couldn't afford ya."
They laughed together, made love again. Later Ellen would often wonder if the incident in Manilla was indirectly responsible for the situation she and John found themselves in. For now they slept in the bliss of ignorance, certain the worst had already occurred. After all, what could be more horrible than what they'd endured thus far?