If I Fell

~16~

The door behind me squeaked open and Paul McCartney stepped in, closing the timber and glass firmly behind him. I walked over to the desk and picked up my few textbooks.

"Damn. Untrusting of me, I see" I said it quietly to myself then turned around, Paul raised his eyebrows. And what eyebrows they were, dark like his hair, ebony, shining with the overhead light glowing above him.

"I won't steal anything, Mr McCartney. I'm not a thief" I spun around again not waiting for his reply just stacking the books and opening the desk drawers for my stationary and the like.

"I would never think that of you Abigail" Paul spoke happily, as if he had made a joke. He moved closer and I felt a tad uncomfortable. "John was a bit forward out there before, I'm sorry about that"

"Oh, its ok, be the first and last of Beatle kisses so I've got to take them while I can get them, don't I" I smiled thinking of John's kisses, he was as deluded as can be to have done it.

He would have so many girls kissing him. I was just one of the hundreds, thousands even, an oddly disturbing picture forming in my head. "Probably should jump your bones while I have the chance, in the bedsit and all. Or would you be needing the Playboy's first?"

Paul collapsed onto the bed and let out a strangled 'arghhhhed!".

"I haven't touched you yet, Paul" I teased, the conversation a little easier now and sat beside him as he pulled a tiny bottle out from under him. The actually source of his painful exclamation.

"Yours I believe, from Romeo out there" Paul nodded towards the house, towards John. Bill had remembered our conversations.

The tiny bottle was full of sand, golden, shimmering sand, a cork stopper plugged the top. I tipped the jar and the shards of Miami beach slipped up and down in the bottle.

"You're Ramoneo. He's Bill" I frowned at the thought. "And I'm the shit fed mushroom. Pleased to meet you by the way, if only for it being because of my unannounced entry"

"I'm so sorry Abigail" That's all he said, he just sat there and looked about the room, everywhere but at me "We should have just told you at the start but it got bigger and bigger"

"What the lie or your careers?" I stood and he took my hand, holding my fingers in his, I smiled sadly as I looked down from my position. His dark puppy dog eyes searching mine, I was lost for a moment before I blinked and broke the spell of Paul 'the cute one' McCartney.

He was hypnotising me, he was the Beatle Paul McCartney and for all intents and purposes he was sat on my bed. He tugged me closer and I leaned over as his breath touched my cheek.

He whispered "Will you stay?" kissed me quickly on the lips then stood, I floundered and almost fell over.

I touched my lips "What was that"

"A thank-you kiss"

"Oh, not a sorry one then"

He kissed me again and mumbled over my lips as he kissed "Sorry, sorry, sorry"

"Hey Macca Jim wants to ... oh right then, that's how it is" John went to turn and leave but I grabbed him, dragging him back into the tiny bedsit that was now feeling rather small with the three of us stood in it.

We all just stood there looking around the room for minutes, not one of us spoke. Uncomfortable silence reigned. 

I was still hurt by the deception and they were too mute to fix the situation. Paul gazed toward the ceiling, tugging at his collar; intently studying the dirty brown mark that was in the corner above the window, John's vision seemed to be intent on his shoes until I lifted the little bottle of golden beach sand.