The End (Beatles Fanfiction)

Chapter 33

GEORGE

I heard the sound of footsteps, and looked up from my guitar. The sunlight from the window hit my eyes and I put my hand up to shield them, squinting at the doorway.

John stopped at the doorway. "Oh. 'Ello, mate."

"Morning," I answered softly and searched behind him. "Where's Yoko?"

Abrasively, John answered, "She's getting some tea in the kitchen," and walked into the studio to his guitar.

I shrugged off his biting manner, and strummed chords at random, with one slow sweep of the arm. G, C, D, G, C, A7...

I looked up to find John staring at me.

"What? Do I got somethin' on my face?" I smiled. John's expression was indecipherable.

"You look knackered. What time did you get here?"

I looked back down at my guitar. "Dunno. Pretty early."

I couldn't sleep. After Prudence and I had talked yesterday, I went home. I planned to apologize to Pattie, again, because it seemed like the right thing to do, but when I saw her at the door, I couldn't do it. I just went inside. We didn't talk to each other, even when we both went into the same bed at night.

Lying in bed, with Pattie's back by my side, I stared at the ceiling and thought.

Is this it? Is this what my life has become? 

Wordless interactions with my wife. Crying in public places. Hating my job. These were now part of my daily routine, next to brushing my teeth and combing my mustache.

Instead of tormenting myself in bed, I left the house and walked around all night. The thoughts followed me, and for a distraction, I went to the studio. At least with a guitar in my hand, I could placate my mind.

John was still staring at me. I felt his eyes burning into me, looking for something. I flicked my eyes up at him, then back down, and played a few more chords.

Bflat, F, C, G...

"George, what 'appened yesterday, huh?" His voice was not aggressive, but soft, concerned, even. I looked back to him. His eyebrows were raised, and he leaned forward in his chair.

"I didn't feel good," I answered slowly, tentatively. I didn't want John to start raving about my bad work ethic. Not this early in the morning. "Won't happen again."

He slowly nodded and leaned back. Feeling that the conversation was over, I went back to my strumming.

"I... um... can I ask you somethin'?"

I looked back up at him. He was tense. I leaned back from the guitar and draped my arm over it. "Yeah?"

John turned his head to the doorway, checking for any surprise entrances. Seeing that no one was coming, he looked back to me.

"Did she say anything after... the other day?"

"Who? Yoko?" Is he bringing up that bloody biscuit incident again? If someone talks about that one more time-

"No!" John flinched, and lowered his voice to a shouted whisper. He flicked his eyes to the doorway again, and then let the name out. "Pru."

I softened. "Oh." John stared at me desperately.

With all my issues at home, and at work, I had forgotten that other problems existed. How selfish of me.

I debated telling him about the rendezvous. "I... assume she was a bit taken aback. But she didn't say anything."