Love to You

Chapter 1

London 1968

I woke up to the cheery whistle of the kettle. I opened my eyes slowly and suddenly realised where I was. I flicked a clump of my messy ginger hair out of my eyes and quickly straightened myself up and hoped that no one saw me falling asleep on the job. That previous night had been crazy, it had been my sisters hen-do and I got a little drunk...well, I say a little, but I honestly can't remember. This morning, I had woken up with a banging headache and no memories of the night. I wanted to have the day off, but I need the money. I shouldn't have spent it all on those drinks last night- that's what I remember from last night, the first few shots of vodka. The kettle was still screaming, as if it was in competition with my head. My hand fumbled and found the switch to turn off the kettle. It shut up, thank god.

My job was to make tea for all the staff and guests of Abbey Road Studios. I was the 'dinner lady' as my sister called it. The most glamorous job, I know - but I enjoyed it and I got a good wage and I got to meet famous people, musicians, like. I'd only been here 3 months, mind, so I hadn't met too many yet.

"Marty! Mr Martin wants tea and a chocolate digestive!" I heard a voice calling down the corridor.

"I know," I called back, "I'm just making it!"

There was silent whisper from Studio 2 and then the voice called back again,

"He said, be quick as the boys will be here soon!" The boys? His children? Some relatives? I don't know who these boys are but I'd like to meet them- or at least bring tea to them.

The tea cups rattled on the tray as I walked down the corridor to deliver Mr Martin's tea. I opened the door to Studio 2 and saw Mr Martin adjusting the cymbals on a drum set, the round bit in the middle (I don't know the technical names for drums) had the words 'The Beatles' in big black letters. I'd vaguely heard of them. I could never afford a record player, or a a radio, or a television so I don't really listen to music. I'd seen them in the newspapers though, but I didn't that that they were that big of a deal.

"At last!" Mr Martin exclaimed practically running over to me, "what took you so long?" I gasped. I must had been asleep for ages. I couldn't say I'd fell asleep, I'd get sacked- well maybe not, but I'd be in a lot of trouble. I stuttered and my eyes twitched, that happened when I was nervous. Then like a heavenly blessing, a scrawny boy in thick rimmed glasses poked his head around the door and said, "George, they're here!"

"Oh god! Thank you, David," he said panicked. He downed his tea and carried on adjusting the cymbals.

As I was about to leave Mr Martin turned around and said, "next time remember the biscuits, Miss Mackenzie." I nodded and said "yes sir, thank you."

I slowly walked towards the door and heard some voices, men's voices. They all had northern accents- Liverpudlian I think, and they were all joking and laughing. I lunged out of the door and I felt a body. It was skinny and warm and...furry (he was wearing a fur coat).

"Afternoon," the body said. I looked up and saw a face, manly and bearded. He had big teeth and pointed canines - like a vampire. I disconnected myself from his body and straightened out my apron. I smiled at him and said, "sorry about that sir."

"Sir? No need for that darlin'. Just call me George." The man said.

"Ooh George, are you on the pull?" One of the other men said as he walked in. He had dark brown hair and wore round glasses.

"Shuddup John!" George said embarrassed. I pulled myself together and asked them, "do you want a cuppa?"

"White, no sugar, thanks mate." The one with glasses said and patted me on the back. George looked at me and said "yeah, I'll have the same."

The other two men walked in and the one with the big nose said," you making tea? I'll have white, two sugars, ta."

The last one, with big puppy dog eyes said, "I'm fine thanks love." I nodded and shuffled out of the studio.

As I pondered down the corridor, I thought about the one with the big vampire-like teeth. George. Wasn't he gorgeous? I just couldn't stop thinking about how I'd bumped into him on our first meeting. I'd just be seen as that clumsy dinner lady that serves them tea. Oh god. I needed to find some more about George, so that night I called my sister.

"Hey Marty! How are you? I'm surprised you got home alright last night, you were pretty hammered after all those shots of vodka. You should have never had a competition with Jude, you know he is vodka downing champion." My sister said. I stood in the red phone box and sighed loudly.

"I'm not here to discuss last night," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Oh ok then. Why are you calling me then?"

"Do you know 'The Beatles'?" I asked.

"What - THE Beatles? I'm bloody obsessed, Marty! How did you not know that?"

"I was never very interested in what you liked."

"Anyway why are you phone me about the Beatles?" My sister asked.

"Well, at work today I sort of met them-"

"What?"

"I met them. The Beatles."

"NO! I don't believe you Marty." My sister exclaimed excitedly.

"No, straight up." I said laughing. I then heard a scream down the telephone. I had to move the receiver away from my ear as her scream was piercing.

"And I need you to tell me as much as you can about George." I continued. My sister was in hysterics by this point and kept on asking me things like 'did you get their autographs' and 'what did you say'. There was no point of asking her anything when she was like this.

"Marty, I'm coming to London to meet you." My sister said excitedly.

"To meet me or the Beatles?"

"I'll be down...tomorrow lunchtime and you can take me to work with you." She said quickly. I reluctantly agreed and said goodbye and then put the phone down. I breathes heavily and stepped out of the phone box. I closed the door and looked out at the starry sky. There was only one thing on my mind.

George.