Go away, George

Chapter 20

2 hours later; Monday, 3:00 PM

Me and mum had been shopping for a few hours and chatted to our hearts content. I'd told her all the goss about the boys and she had asked me a mahoosive list of questions about Lennon which I boringly answered. We found this quaint little coffee shop and decided to drop in.

"Oh, you and George are just a lovely couple." She cooed, peeking at the tiny menu and scanning it with her shiny painted nails. "You're on the telly quite a bit you know."

"Really? I don't really watch TV much any more."

"Oh yes, you two are the centre of the flipping world. Everyone thinks you're just too adorable." She carried on explaining as the waitress approached.

"Anything I can get'cha sweeties?" The waitress drawled in an American accent.

"I'll just have a Cappuccino and a scone please." Mum ordered, placing the menu back down.

The waitress scribbled something on a notepad. "Okie dokie, how about you love?"

"Um... a caramel frappe and a chocolate chip muffin would be nice."

"Sure thing. They'll be ready in a jiffy." She exclaimed and bounced off to the back of the shop behind the counter and disappeared.

"So you and George are doing well then?" She sort of questioned, tapping the table with her nails.

"Yeah we are.... Well, sort of. We are now anyway. Lately he was being cold around me and a bit funny but then I forced Paul to tell me why and he said that some other dude was joining the band and George was jealous."

My mother frowned. "I haven't heard of anybody else joining The Beatles. It sounds a bit unlikely to be honest."

"Well, that's what I'm kinda thinking. But I trust George and I can't think of any other reason he would be being weird around me." I admitted. "He said this guy is called Josh and he plays Sitar."

"I think that's a big farse Caitlin. Can't he play Sitar already? And wouldn't it be big news, surely somebody would have found out and leaked it."

The waitress arrived with the refreshments. I tried to pay but my mum insisted, as mothers do, to pay for both of us. I took a large gulp of my frappe and a nibble of my muffin.

"Well I just hope that it is a new member to the band and not something else. I know George would never cheat on me that is just w-a-y out of the question but I mean... I just don't know." I blabbed, eating some more of my over-sized muffin.

"Mm I know honey... but at least a bit of retail therapy can sort you out, make you a bit free from all this beatles malarky. We should change the topic really, just forget about them all for a bit."

I nodded and we began talking about something else entirely. We talked about Primark and how cheap clothes shops always make you feel fat because the size tens are actually size eights and the size eights are actually size sixes and are basically little scraps of material so you basically have to grab at least three sizes and try to stretch them onto your body in the changing rooms and find out which size you actually are in said shop which is absolutely tiresome and, in my honest opinion, ludacris. And breathe.

We talked about the women my mum is friends with at book club (and by the word 'friends' she means ladies who she is forced to converse and assosciate with) and how Barbra is really letting herself go. I love that phrase, don't you? It's just a polite and discreet way of saying 'wow she's really made a mess of her life what the hell actually happened to her oh dear'.

We talked about how dad broke his leg a few weeks ago from playing cricket. I really do not know how you can break your leg playing cricket but I decided not to ask too many questions.