Missing You...

Chapter Four

Thursday, 27 November 1980

The sun peeked in through the bedroom window, illuminating John's sleeping face. He lifted his head from the pillow, his face soft and flushed with sleep. The sunbeam that had woken John was pouring through a gap in the curtains like a waterfall, completely relentless, determined to wake him. John groaned and shoved his head under the pillow.

"Go away." he muttered, "I don't want to get up. I don't want to face the day."

The sun kept shining and wasn't showing any signs of leaving, but John remained motionless in his bed. The room was silent for a few minutes and John was soon snoring steadily, fast asleep. Someone had other ideas. Elvis strolled into the bedroom and noticed the lump on the bed. It was snoring loudly, curled up in a ball with its knees underneath its chin. Elvis decided to investigate and jumped on top of the lump. (Elvis was the cat, in case you hadn't guessed.) John woke with a start as Elvis hit his chest. John snatched the cat up in his arms, gently petting his head.

"Good morning, Elvis." John said brightly. "Well, good for you. Not so much for me."

"Meow?" Elvis mewed questioningly.

"Well, first of all, thanks for the wake-up call." John chuckled, "And I had a bit of a rough night. Nightmares and whatnot. I also came across a box of some -"

John was cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing. John rolled his eyes, muttered something about bloody milkmen and couriers disturbing his sleep, and staggered to his feet. Elvis jumped off of John's lap and landed neatly on the duvet. He then dropped to the floor, wriggled under the bed, and emerged with John's slippers in his mouth. John stepped into them, nodding gratefully at his furry companion, then sloped off to answer the door.

John peered through the peephole before he opened the door. He was very cautious about who he let into his home. He was worried he might let someone into his apartment and that someone could turn out to be a murderer and ax him to death. What he found on the doorstep didn't look like a madman, but he was still wary. John opened the door, leaving it on the chain.

"Yes?" he said cautiously.

"Hi there!" said the visitor. It was a young girl, only about thirteen years of age. She had dark brown hair that hung below her ears in subtle curls. She was smiling brightly at John, although her eyes looked absolutely terrified. Her glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose, but she had to keep hitching them up. They were shiny, black, thick-rimmed specs. John felt a sharp pang when he saw them.

"Who are you?" John asked, opening the door a little more.

"Um... hi, mister." the dark haired girl said. John noticed she was holding a large envelope in her trembling hands. "My name is Maya. I live just down the hall."

"Oh," said John. He opened the door fully and leaned against the door-frame, arms crossed. "Hello Maya. My name is -"

"John Lennon." Maya interrupted, "I know. I'm actually a big fan."

"Really?" John said. He couldn't help feeling a little smug. He rarely left his apartment nowadays so compliments from other people were few. "Would you like to come in?"

Maya's facial expression immediately changed from anxiety to plain shock. She stood there on the doorstep, completely motionless, seemingly stunned into silence. John tried not to laugh because he loved it when he struck people speechless. He examined his young visitor's face carefully, wondering if he should say something. He eventually took her by the hand and led her into his apartment.

"You know," John said casually, "You're the first person I've invited into my home for a long time."

"Really?" Maya said, her eyes widening. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason. Things have just been a bit rough lately." John laughed suddenly, "The only person who knows all of this is my cat. He's a very good listener. Never has anything nasty to say."

Maya giggled. She seemed to be relaxing a bit. John decided to ask her something.

"What's that envelope you've got there?"

"Oh, right! I nearly forgot why I came here!" Maya exclaimed. She shyly handed the envelope to John. "It was delivered to our apartment by mistake. I came here to return it."

John nodded gratefully as he took the envelope from her. He read the address. Maya was right. The postman had somehow delivered it to the wrong apartment. John didn't recognize the handwriting but there was definitely something familiar about it. He tore open the envelope, expecting it to be a library notice or the electricity bill or something even less exciting. A single piece of paper fluttered to the ground like a large white butterfly. John bent over and snatched it up. He read the message, then his mouth fell open. 

"What does it say?" Maya asked, getting excited. 

"It's... I can't... why would..." John stammered. He wondered if he'd misread the message, so quickly scanned the paper, muttering each word as he went along. "Oh, my God..."

"What?!" Maya persisted. "What does it say?!"

John sighed and handed her the paper, sighing heavily. Maya took the paper, her eyebrows raised questioningly. There were only five words penned but that was enough to make John completely lose his mind. 

Dear John,

I'm coming.

Paul