Go away, George

Chapter 11

It was around half ten in the morning and the sun was already positioned high in the sky, casting rays of heat down on us. Partnered with the steady breeze that tickled at the hairs on my legs, the heat was bearable and quite nice, actually. It wasn't like I was going to get a tan, though. I was as pale as a bottle of milk and nothing changed that. I'd either burn and turn a blotchy salmon colour, or stay ghostly white. I probably inherited it from my mother.

My mother, Martha was her name but we just called her Mar, had terribly pale skin just like me. But she looked beautiful with it. In fact, everything about my mum was beautiful. Her thick ginger hair would curl slightly and cascade around her love-heart shaped head, ending just above her chest. Her hazel eyes were large and mesmerising, and with a brush of mascara her long eyelashes would be perfectly blink-able. Her nose was small and quaint, just like mine, although she had hers pierced when she was younger - she often wore a tiny diamond stud that would glint in the sunshine. Her lips were thin and soft, and when she smiled fully you could see her completely straight teeth that were  shade of brilliant white.

I missed my mother. She hadn't died or anything, but I moved out last year because I felt like I needed some freedom. Although I didn't see her much anymore, I called her up occasionally to tell her where I was, or what I was doing. She would tell me what had gone on recently, only little bitty things but just hearing her sweet voice made my day. I agreed to myself that I should call her up and tell her where I was now.

"John, do you mind if I just call my mum up and tell her where I am? I don't live with her or anything but she might've called my home phone and knowing mum she's probably worrying herself sick."

He laughed. "Sure."

I smiled and slipped my hand into my pocket, pulling out my mobile and dialling my mums number. Pressing the phone to my head I patiently waited for her to pick up.

"Hello?" Just hearing her cute voice made me melt.

"Hi mum, it's me Caitlin."

There was a pause. "Oh Caitlin, I thought you weren't going to call me or anything. What happened to you? I tried your house five times yesterday..."

"I'm a little busy see mum." I started. "I was on the bus back from college and a lorry swerved and hit us."

"Oh heavens, are you okay? Why didn't you call? Are you in hospital?" I was flooded with questions from my over-protective mother.

"Yes mum, I'm fine. I went in for a check up and they said I was okay. But you'll never believe what happened-"

"You met The Beatles, didn't you?" She suddenly 'accused' into the phone. How did she know?

"Uh yes... how did you know?"

I heard a light chuckle. "It's been on the telly, y'know. How The Beatles have been living with this girl, and how they've been seen around town with her, bla bla bla. It said she was George Harrison's new girlfriend and then showed a picture, and I nearly spat my herbal tea all over the floor when I saw your face on the screen."

"Oh, haha." Was all I could say. It was on television that I was dating George?

"So you are then? You are courting George? Oh Caitlin, that's fab. I always thought you liked Paul, but George is a nice fellow too, isn't he?"

I sighed. "Well yes, he is mum. But I'm unsure if we're really, dating as such. It's a bit of a weird relationship."

John laughed in the background.

"Is that him? That laugh then?" She was yapping down the phone, probably wanting me to shed unknown information about The Beatles to her. Sadly, I didn't know any.