Nobody Wants To Know Him

LII - Nowhere Man

September 1973

After we returned from Wales, September passed in a blur.

We'd received word that George was recovering well. He probably wouldn't be fully healed until the start of the next month, but he was able to move about now, with some difficulty. He was still, understandably, hung up on the fact that his racing career was over, but gradually coming to terms with it in his own way.

With the academic year starting back up again, the McCartneys were back in London for the children to attend school. Paul was, of course, with Linda, still working with Wings on their third album, so they were pretty occupied. 'The McCartney Clan', as John had so aptly put it, always were a busy bunch.

As for the Starkeys, it seemed Ringo had pretty much finished filming his film. Mo was pretty much the same as ever, hairdressing and all, and their children were back at school now, too.

Mimi was doing fine, as she always was apparently, according to John. We went round to hers for dinner once or twice, as we did with my family also. Charlie was now off to university, so he wasn't home, and Nancy was just her normal self.

We also saw Tim. He had moved to a different shop, further out of the city centre, but he'd found himself a girlfriend, and he invited John and I round to meet her and for a meal, as well as Suzy and her Kevin.

John was much happier than he was before. He was going out more, going out on walks, popping out to see Mimi more frequently; he even offered to do the shopping for me! And he was doing more at home, also. For hours upon end, he'd be in the library writing some poetry, or in the music room working on something new which he'd be bound to show me some time, or sat in the garden sketching away, the only sound being his gentle breathing, the birds chirping, and the soft scratching of graphite on high quality sketchbook paper.

It was serene moments like these that I loved to watch John. I'd snap an occasional picture, just to treasure.

And it got me thinking. John was now such a different person to the one I met. The one I met on that fateful November afternoon, when winter was closing in on us. The one that scowled at me when he first saw me, but then invited me in for tea when he didn't even know my name.

______

Just as I was about to turn to leave, the door was flung open, and in the doorway stood a man.

...

"...yes?" He spat. "Can I help ye?"

His coldness brought me back. "Ah, sorry sir. I've brought a paper for ye. Didn't think you'd get it up here."

A little bit of his harshness seemed to subside at this.

...

A cold breeze blew through the leafless trees, causing me to shiver, pulling my jacket tighter over my body. This caught the man's attention.

"Y'know what, why don't ye come in? Or ya can freeze yer fucking toes off out there if you wish." He turned back into the house, leaving the door ajar.

I hesitated, but then decided, y'know what, to hell with it, and stepped into his house through the large doorway.

...

"Just hang yer jacket and bag up there. Shoes can just go next to the door," he said, loosely gesturing to a coat rack next to the door which I'd shut behind me.