Somewhere In Time (A Beatles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 33: Chicken Noodle Soup

France! I had never been and I was so excited to be going. We had a short stop in Versailles for a show and then we were on to Paris for a little over two weeks.

When I traveled with Paul, I tried to stay away from the cameras and press. Well, the best I could manage. So, I often traveled in the car in front of the others, usually with Brian. The trip to our Paris hotel, the George V, was no different. Everyone was too busy looking for the Beatles, that Brian and I were able to get into the hotel without much trouble. The roar of screams after we were safely inside, announced the boy's arrival.

Brian always made sure the boys were already checked in so they could go straight to their rooms. When I got into the room Paul and I were sharing, I immediately went to the window. You could see the Eiffel tower from the window. I was staring at it in awe, when Paul came up behind me and put his arms around me. I settled back into his chest and enjoyed the view.

"I told you that the next time I was in Paris, I wanted you with me" Paul said softly tickling my ear with his breath.

I turned to him in surprise. "I can't believe you remember that. You and John were here what, 2 years ago? It seems so long ago. So much has changed."

"That's true, I love you even more than I did then. I can't believe you've put up with me for so long. Thank you for being here with me"

I pulled him closer to me so that there was no space between us "There's nowhere else I'd rather be"

The Paris shows were different from what we had thought they would be. Not as many screaming girls, which was refreshing for me. There were mostly young boys waiting for them at exits and entrances. Which disappointed them, but amused me greatly.

Paul and I were able to sneak out several times while we were there. We disguised ourselves, Paul in a very un-Beatles like outfit and a hat to hide the distinctive haircut. I put my hair up and then put a scarf over it. Although, I did try to avoid pictures, some had been taken of me and published. The red hair was a dead give away, so I had to hide it.

Paul got recognized easily, even with the disguise. However, if we didn't stay in one place for long we were able to escape much notice. We were able to take in the Eiffel Tower, the Champs Elysees, and our favorite, the Louvre.

When Paul had interviews or other engagements, I would go out by myself. I had the time to lazily walk the streets taking pictures of things that caught my eye. It was wonderful.

It was also in Paris that we learned that "I Want To Hold Your Hand" had gone to #1 in the American charts. Their first #1 there. This had been a goal of theirs for a long time, their idols were from America. Also, we were headed there in less than two weeks. The timing was incredible.

They finished the Paris shows and then we were back to London for 2 days. Almost everyone decided to stay put in London, but George snuck back to Liverpool for a short visit. Cyn was coming to New York as well, and I was excited to have my friend there. There was a lot of boring times stuck in hotel to come, and it was nice to have her to talk to.

We were on the plane to New York, and I got up to use the restroom. On my way back to my seat, I noticed George sitting by himself and I sat down beside him. He was really pale, and his eyes looked a little hazy.

"You look terrible. What's wrong?" I asked him concerned.

"We all know Paul's your favorite Beatle, there's no need to insult me" he said hoarsely, smiling slightly at me. I raised my eyebrows at him and he added "I don't feel well. My throat hurts"

I put my hand on his forehead and sure enough, he was burning up. 'You've got a fever, George. Take these." I said pulling out two aspirin from my purse.

Unfortunately for George, he still had to meet the press and answer questions. At least his fever had gone down after taking the aspirin.

He was excited to be playing in America, even sick. They all were, this was a dream come true. Their first time in America and they were already stars.

Paul listened to the radio on the way to the hotel. To their amazement, they were playing Beatles songs on the radio. American radio!

When we finally made it to the hotel, a doctor was called for George. He had tonsillitis, and was told to stay in bed. It was decided he would rest until their performance on the Ed Sullivan show.

Cyn and I stayed behind with George as John, Paul, and Ringo had a photo shoot and a rehearsal.

After kissing Paul goodbye, I went to check on George. He was awake, so I went and sat on the side of his bed.

"How are you feeling, buddy?"

"Still pretty bad. Throat still hurts" he said.

"Well let me see if I can make you feel better" I said picking up the phone. "Room Service, please" I waited to be transferred. "Yes, can I have a bowl of chicken noodle soup for room 905"

"Chicken noodle soup?" George asked "That's your magic cure for sore throat, is it?"

"Well, my mom sure thought so. Whenever I was sick, I was force fed the stuff. Don't worry I won't do that to you." I said, laughing at the picture in my head of me trying to force feed George. "It won't hurt you to eat it, though. The salt in the broth will help your sore throat"

When the soup was brought up, George ate it. I think to placate me.

"Ta, Mum. It was very good" he said sardonically at me.

In response I scrunched up my nose and rubbed his hair, messing it up. "I'll leave you to get some rest, my wee Georgie boy" I said in my worst imitation of an Irish accent, and left his room with a smile on my face.

The other boys came back from rehearsal in high spirits. Their first American performance was tonight & it was to be broadcast to millions of Americans. George was up out of bed, feeling a bit better and ready for the performance.

"Thanks, luv. For taking care of me." George said before we left.

"Anytime. You know I'd do anything for my second favorite Beatle" I said putting my arm around him. "I'm glad you're feeling better"

Paul walked in just then, and gave us a questioning look. I just rolled my eyes at him, and he started smiling. He had nothing to worry about, and he knew it.

I was so proud to be standing backstage, as the Beatles preformed for American audiences for the first time. Cyn and I were holding on to each other nervously as they performed, but there was no need to be nervous. They charmed America just as they had Britain.