The Double Life of Richard Starkey

Chapter 1

Ringo stepped around the study as he waited, manoeuvring carefully through the mess, not wanting to accidentally knock something over and break it, remembering what had happened the last time he had accidentally broken something. Still, it was worth the trouble. George's study had always fascinated him, ever since he had first set foot in it some years ago when his friend had only been an eager and somewhat overenthusiastic student. The room had something magical about it in Ringo's eyes, even though George would laugh at him for thinking such a silly thing. Magic didn't exist, after all. But to Ringo, everything George did up here was magic: something wonderful and enchanting, but also dangerous and somewhat frightening, but in a good way. He always liked coming up here.

The room itself was plain, with tall grey walls and a beautiful, but common, bay window, beneath which a large mahogany desk was placed. It was not, however, the room that was magical, but what was inside it. One wall was completely covered in bookshelves, filled with thick, leather-bound books in all kinds of languages, mostly Latin, with drawings and equations and strange scribbles in them, telling stories and sharing knowledge that were so far out of his reach. He could only fantasise about what they would say. He had looked in them, scanned through them, and studied each of the drawings inside. In the margins, he often found little notes in his friend's hand, but those were just as unreadable as the rest of the book. He was certain he had once seen one written entirely in runes.

All the other walls were covered in notes and maps and drawings, some of animals, some of the human body, some of leaves and trees, and even pine cones. Some looked specifically medical, with little lines pointing to specific parts of the body and naming them, often in Latin, though sometimes they seemed to describe a specific medical procedure. Ringo did not like looking at those for too long. They creeped him out.

Against another wall stood a small fireplace with two comfortable armchairs around it. Half-burned pieces of paper were scattered across the blackened wooden flooring and the rug beneath the chairs had seen better days too. Furthermore, the room was filled with stacks of books, papers and documents, unopened letters, and notebooks. A large globe stood beside the desk, the latter of which was full of even more papers, pens, pencils, ink bottles, scissors, and other strange-looking equipment of which Ringo could only guess the use, bottles, vials and test tubes, candles, and gas lighters, as well as many more things. Beside the desk, pushed up against the other wall, stood a chemistry set and two large glass cabinets with all kinds of things in there: more bottles, jars, syringes, nuts, bolts, screwdrivers, matchboxes, tubes, books, rolls of paper, models of the human body: you name it and it was there. Half of the things, Ringo still didn't know what they were. In the middle of the room stood a few glass tables with metal constructions on them, animatronics, but also clocks, watches, and even a small steam engine George had tried to fabricate on his own. To say he was more than a little enthusiastic about anything having to do with science would be an understatement.

His said friend stood by the desk, working diligently and in silence on his latest invention. What he had been working on, Ringo didn't know yet. He hadn't told him anything about it yet, and had simply ordered him to take a seat and wait until he had finished. The light coming from the tall bay window surrounded him in a bright aura of light. His hair shined in the sunlight and the pink liquid in the test tube he held in his hand shimmered back at him. Ringo couldn't see his face, but judging from the appreciative noises that would sometimes escape the younger man's lips, he was getting there. Or Ringo hoped so. He had been waiting for nearly two hours, and even then a magical place such as this one began to lose its impressiveness.

He had been called up that morning by George's fiancée, Pattie, asking him if he could come in that afternoon after lunchtime, since George had been on the brink of making a breakthrough and he didn't like to wait for his test subject. At first Ringo had thought about declining. He had planned to go out for lunch with Paul and his brother, Mike, but Paul had assured him it would be alright. They needed the money after all - 10 pounds was a lot of money - and Mike wouldn't mind. Now, however, it was getting late and he still hadn't tested anything, which meant he easily could have gone to the luncheon. At least George's fiancée had made him something to eat.