If I Fell

~31~

Pauls Home

Brian dropped me off at St. Johns Wood a bit after 1.a.m.

Jane would be on the flight back to the USA by now and Paul would be home in around an hour, Mal Evans, the 'right hand man-everything will be right' mountain of a man was with him, but I was still worried how he had handled the departure.

He puzzled me sometimes and now from coming off the whole Cyn/John saga I could see he probably was doing the same thing as John, playing around with more than one girl at a time, albeit more discreetly, for I had never encounter a bird in his cage but he would often be out late or never come back some nights at all.

I was snuggled on the lounge with a scotch and coke, having discarded my attempts to sleep til I saw him home safe and sound.

When I finally heard his key in the lock, I checked the clock 3a.m., skulled the scotch, grimaced at the hit of the drink and hid the glass quickly.

"You're awake" Paul shrugged his tuxedo jacket off, tossed it on the telly and fell next to me on the couch with a thud. "Thought you would be tucked up in bed for sure" He grumbled quietly.

I rubbed his arm and leaned on his shoulder. "She got away ok then"

"OH yeaaaa, she flew away alllright" Paul was more than slightly inebriated, I hadn't noticed before but the slur was there hovering in his voice. "I need another drink"

"Do you think that's a good idea" I spoke up and immediately regretted saying the words. I wasn't his parent. Paul glared then stood and fumbled about looking for a glass by the liquor cabinet, there wasn't one there though, as they were still sitting in a half full sink. I found my not very well hidden glass and pro-offered it to him "Here"

The eyebrow shot up in surprise and he had the gall to smell the glass, grinning at me "I'll share the one I make.... Deal?"

"Yea but not too-" The scotch was in, a dash of coke added before I could say 'not too strong' he turned and frowned grouchily, tossed the almost straight scotch back, skulling it quickly and repeated his movements making us a new drink.

And another.

Another.

After a while I was beyond relaxed and warm, Paul was hovering between sad and happy, mad and joking.

I tried to push him off to bed but he was stubborn, wanting 'just another' and 'join me Abbs' tugging heartstrings with 'don't leave me all alone'.

I was drunk I could feel my head tipping over the edge, my mind muffled and sleepy slow with too much scotch in my system. I tried to rise from the couch yet again but was forced back down, Paul's arms surrounding me as I landed on his lap.

Then he started.

"I'm a loser Abigail, I can't keep anyone happy" he spoke softly and I realised that there was a single tear hovering just under his eyelashes. Wiping it away, I smiled gently as his eyes met mine.

"You're not Paul, you just love a girl who is on her own plane to stardom" I kissed his forehead, a sloppy kiss, and hugged him close nestling my cheek on his.

I rocked him a little and we fell silent for the longest while.

"I told her that's it" Paul groaned out into my shoulder. "I told her I've had it. No more, we're finished" And he shook me as if he was trying to get me to realise his words, that I was her and needed to hear him.

"You don't mean that, you're tired" I felt him tense then shake his head dejectedly.

He tipped his head back and those eyes, those dark eyes, filled with sadness, held mine "No, I mean it all. I want someone that's there for me. Stupid I know but I want a home" I hugged him close again and held him tight.