Golden Lockets

Precious Words Drift Away...

Things in George's life were reasonably settled for the next few years. He and Ringo were getting on splendidly now that they were living together. Serenity had started attending the local primary school and had a large gaggle of friends, as well as her two closest friends, twins Adam and Sylvia. The band was still going strong despite the loss of their beloved manager. 

Everything was perfect... but then came one dreadful day in late 1970.

Arguments were beginning to arise between John and Paul. For reasons best known to themselves they couldn't agree on anything anymore and spent most recording sessions squabbling. George and Ringo knew better than to get involved, but they were still curious. One evening the two were discussing the matter over dinner.

"Another argument between Lennon and McCartney today?" George asked. He always left recording sessions early to collect Serenity (now seven years old) from school, so he missed out on Paul and John's famous quarrels more often than not.

Ringo nodded sadly. "I don't understand it. They used to be pretty much inseparable, and now they can't go for five seconds without shouting at each other."

"It's very strange." George remarked. He glanced across the table to were Serenity was sitting. She was staring down at her plate of untouched food, her hands resting limply in her lap. Her eyes looked sad and weepy, as if she might spontaneously burst into tears. George's eyebrows knitted together.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked worriedly.

"Nothing, Dad." Serenity mumbled. Her voice was slow and expressionless, like a robot. This made George even more concerned.

"You seem upset. Did you have a tough day at school?"

"No." Serenity said flatly. She pushed her full plate away from her. "I'm not hungry."

"Not hungry?" Ringo repeated, sounding hurt. He had spent hours in the kitchen, slaving over the stove to produce a decent meal. He'd even had a go at making Serenity's favourite dinner of sausage, mash, and baked beans, and here she was making a fuss.

"Come on, love." George said frantically. "Uncle Ringo spent a long time trying to make us a lovely dinner. Are you sure you can't try a little bit?"

Serenity sighed heavily, but she picked up her fork and scooped up some baked beans. She brought the dripping forkful close to her mouth and let it hover for several seconds. She could feel George and Ringo anxiously watching her. It was too much. Serenity threw down her fork, sending baked beans and little flecks of tomato sauce flying, and burst into fresh floods of tears.

"Serenity!" George cried, jumping up and running to her. He knelt down beside her chair and pulled her in close, trying hard to soothe her. Serenity was far too distraught to stop crying and eat her dinner. She sobbed into George's shoulder, her little arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Ringo watched on, his eyes wide and worried.

"I'm sorry!" Serenity wept. 

"Don't be sorry, sweetie." George said kindly, pretending not to notice the bright orange sauce stains on the pristine wallpaper. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Serenity said indistinctly, her voice thick with sadness.

"Don't be silly. You're crying." George peeled Serenity's weeping body off of his chest and held her at arms length. His eyes stared directly into her's. They looked scared and solemn. "Come on, darling. Tell Daddy why you're so upset."

"It's... It's just that..." Serenity struggled to get the words out. "I can't tell you, Daddy. I want to, but I can't. I made a promise not to say anything."