Honey Pie (P.M)

Loved & Lost

Paul's hands shook as he turned the key, swinging the door to John’s flat open. He stepped out of the way, motioning for Louise to walk ahead of him. "Ladies first." He mumbled; his nerves were catching up with him. Louise could tell, but she simply smiled and walked past him. He shut the door and locked it, hoping he wouldn’t have to so much as crawl near it until the next morning. He dropped the keys on a nearby table, next to an ashtray that was full to the brim. He turned around, spotting Louise by John’s turntable and browsing through his records. “Find anything you like?” Paul asked, taking his jacket off and dropping it on John’s bed. He walked over and looked over Louise’s shoulder; he noticed she was smiling. “This one.” It was one of John’s few Elvis Presley records. “Why don’t I put it on?” Paul suggested, taking the record from Louise’s hands. She nodded and walked away. Paul put the record on and a calming, slow tempoed song started to play. As Elvis began to croon in the background, Paul had his attention was distracted. Louise sat nearby on the bed, watching him intently. Paul's eyes darted to and from every inch of her; the tops of her stockings, which had become visible from her dress shifting up when she'd sat down; her shoulder length dark hair, and how it curled so perfectly; and every inch of her beautiful, innocent face. Paul didn't think she meat to look so sedutive; in her mind, she had just taken a seat. Because she was as nervous as he was. “Sit with me?” She asked suddenly, nervously patting the space beside her. Paul didn’t need to be asked twice; he quickly sat down beside her.

No sooner had he sat down, were Louise’s hands on his cheeks and her lips on his. Paul responded quickly, kissing back desperately. Eventually, Louise managed to push Paul’s down and sat gently on his lower stomach. “I'm going to be honest with you, Paul; I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I'm downright terrifed. But, if I'm going to lose this to anyone but Elvis Presley, it's going to be you.” She said. Paul wasn't sure what to say, so he sat up and kissed her again. Louise started to eagerly unbutton his shirt and he reached around to unzip her dress. He reached the end of the zip just as she reached the last button. They broke apart and looked at one another. “I have a question, before I let you take away the only pure thing left of me.” "Go on..." “Why me? I’m nothing interesting. I’m not funny, or smart, or skinny… And I’m definitely not pretty.” Her voice broke as the word ‘pretty’ left her lips. Paul watched as a tear ran down her cheek. “Hey…” He said quietly, wiping the tear away. “Look at me; I’m here with you. And… I’m looking at you and you are so beautiful.” Louise took a sharp intake of breath, the kind you only do when you’ve been crying or are really overwhelmed, of which she had been/was both. She moved off him and he sat up. He opened his legs and she sat on her knees between them. Paul took his shirt off and held Louise’s hands. “You are so beautiful and you don’t even know. I think you’re funny, and smart and I don’t care if you’re skinny or not! Hell, I prefer that you’re not skin and bones. A little more for me to love.” Paul bit his lip as the last word left his mouth. Louise’s eye flashed up to him. “Love? You love me?” The realization that he did in fact love Louise hit Paul hard. Or perhaps that was Louise launching herself at him, kissing his lips aggressively. She sat back up, catching her breath. As he caught his own, Paul finally looked at her; really looked at her. Her dark hair was clung to her, cascading around her shoulders; her big brown eyes were framed by long, mascara-coated, jet black eye lashes; she smiled at him with a smile so big and full of utter joy Paul thought it might rip her perfect face apart. And at last her noticed her dress and how it had fallen slightly downwards, now that it was no longer fastened. The top of her bra could be seen, with all of her shoulders and chest now on show. Paul suddenly had the urge to kiss her collarbone. As his lips caressed the outline of her collarbones, Louise moaned quietly. Without warning, she pushed Paul back stood up on the bed. She rolled down the dress to her hips, revealing what Paul had been trying to imagine since the day he’s met her; the black bra and all the skin that was hidden with it. And, as the dress fell off her hips and she kicked it onto the floor, the long legs he'd admired for months finally came into view. Louise sat back down at the end of the bed, leaning against the footboard. Paul was close enough for her to lift her leg and rest her heel on his shoulder. “Go ahead then." She whispered, her seductive stare failing to cover the nerves in her voice. Paul nodded, and unclipped the first stocking.

The bleak Liverpool sunlight leaked into the small flat the next morning. It shone over the array of clothing and shoes that had been thrown about during the night. Paul took a drag from his cigarette and then handed it to Louise. They were sitting up, side by side, giggling like children. “It’s so romantic, isn’t it?” Louise said sarcastcally, looking at the pile of clothes. Paul chuckled. “Mmm. Really romantic.” He replied. She passed the cigarette back to him and rested her head on his shoulder. “I don’t know why I even take it from you; I don’t even like cigarettes.” Paul smiled. “I’m glad. I don’t really like girls smoking.” “Well in that case…” Louise said, taking the cigarette from Paul again. She took a deep drag and blew the excess smoke in Paul’s face. He smiled, shaking his head. “That’s mine. Thank you.” Paul said, taking the cigarette back. Louise rested her head on his shoulder. “So, what do we do now?” She asked. Paul put his arm around her shoulders, running his fingers through her hair. “What do you mean?” Paul asked, although he knew exactly what she meant. “How can we go on being just friends when you’ve tainted me?” Paul chuckled, taking another drag. “Why do we have to be just friends?” He asked. Louise scoffed. “One word: Dot.” Paul remembered his girlfriend and groaned; during his time with Louise, he’d forgotten all about her. “Exactly.” Louise replied, closing her eyes as if she was going back to sleep. Paul sighed and rested his head against the headboard behind him, taking another drag of his cigarette. A few seconds went by without either of them saying anything. Then Louise cleared throat. “Or…” She began. “Or…?” Paul asked, intrigued. “Or we could stay friends… And then some.” Paul looked down at her; she was staring at him. They looked at each other for a few seconds. “We’ll see what happens.” Paul replied, looking away from her. As he looked out of the window, Paul knew they were in for a rough time. And he was blissfully happy about it.

A year passed since their first night together; more nights like it followed. During that time, Paul was trying hard to find a way to break up with his faithful, long-term girlfriend, Dot, so that he could be with Louise. Unfortunately, somewhere along the way, Paul got Dot pregnant and the two of them became engaged. Louise’s heart broke as she watched on as they played the part of happy expectant parents perfectly, and she was left out in the cold. Everyone who knew them could see the hurt in Louise's eyes every time someone mentioned Paul's name. But Paul never saw the hurt, because he chose not to. He chose to stay away, for fear he would be unfaithful. However, as soon as it had begun, it all ended. Dot had a miscarriage, and Paul began speaking to Louise again. But the damage was already done...

{1960}

Paul had been sat staring at the same piece of paper for well over and hour. Michael’s telegram tore through his heart; he didn’t want to believe what he was reading. “Louise has left." Was the line that stood out, like someone had bolded it so he wouldn't miss it's harsh message. Nothing else in the message mattered; he didn't care what her reason for leaving was. Paul knew she'd really left because of him. Because he'd tainted Liverpool for her. She loved Liverpool and he had ruined it for her. Michael said something about studying, but Paul knew that was bullshit; Louise was a creative person, and wouldn't dream of purposely travelling so she could study. He knew it was all his fault. He wondered if he'd ever see her again.