She's a Woman

Chapter Four - All Shook Up

I watched the band perform their last few songs before they retired for the evening. They were very good, but it wasn't hard for me to see why they were just the opening and closing act rather than the main attraction. I couldn't wait to begin taking part in performances myself. I'd have to wait for a bit as John later explained.

"Sorry, Michael. We won't be playing again until Saturday."

"Oh," I said, feeling disappointed. "Why do we have to wait such a long time?"

"The owners don't want us rock and rollers here. This club is run by Philistines," John said coldly. "They wouldn't know good music if it walked up to them, introduced itself and smashed them over the head with a cricket bat."

"That's oddly descriptive."

"Well, it's accurate," came the grumpy reply.

"I see," I mumbled.

John grunted and spat on the ground, then he went back to dismantling the sound equipment. Paul hovered nearby during our conversation, silently listening. I don't know if he knew I could see him eavesdropping but that didn't particularly bother me. What did bother me was the way he was staring at me and John - his neat eyebrows knitted together, and a glare that could have killed a cat. Paul eventually turned his nose up at me and began fiddling with his bass, daintily perched on an amp with his legs crossed.

"Gosh," I thought to myself, "it's no wonder that they haven't suspected I'm a girl! Not with people like Paul hanging around."

I was so busy examining Paul's curious behaviour that I hadn't noticed George standing right behind me. He peered over my shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of what I was looking at. I felt his heavy breathing on my neck and whipped around quickly, nearly smacking him right across the face.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" I cried angrily, so furious that I nearly broke character and spoke in my normal voice. I stopped myself just in time.

"Sorry," George said sheepishly, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing that's any of your business."

"Oh." George paused then asked," Where do you live?"

"Nowhere at the moment." I stuck out my chest and added proudly, "I left home."

George's eyes nearly popped right out of his head. "You left home?!"

"That's right."

"Then where are you going to sleep tonight?"

I didn't have an answer for this question. I hadn't believed I would have come as far as I had, so I hadn't bothered to seriously think about a new home. George saw me hesitating. His thick eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead and his mouth crinkled into a silly smile.

"What?" I said irritably.

"You don't have anywhere to stay, do you?" George said smugly, his cigarette bouncing around between his lips.

"No, as a matter of fact I don't," I snapped. "So what?"

"Where are you going to go, then?" George asked.

I nibbled on a loose piece of hangnail, desperately trying to conjure up a good excuse. Unfortunately nothing came to mind so I was stuck, gnawing anxiously on my thumb. George opened his mouth to say something sarcastic, but I must have looked really worried because he suddenly softened. He patted my shoulder sympathetically.

"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll be able to stay with one of us."

He didn't sound totally convincing, but I nodded gratefully nevertheless. George extinguished his  cigarette, then he began asking around to see if any of the other lads were willing to let me shack up with them for a little while. Pete and Stu made up the weakest excuses; they clearly didn't want anything to do with me. They were polite enough not to say outright. Paul was less reticent.