first question... ~ Paul McCartney (1st book)

•Part 26•

August 6th 1965

They arrived outside a building that was brightly lit and iconic looking. Once they had stepped out the vehicle, the truly magnificent place was revealed.

"The Ritz!" She declared and her mouth fell open in shock.

"Correct" he said gazing at the large entrance proudly and then back at her. Amelia's reaction made him laugh quite hard.

After minuets of her trying to comprehend where she actually was and what was happening they walked in and were shown to their table for two. The reception was huge and was decorated as if everything was on a peach filter.

"Have you been here before?" She asked him as she gazed at the high ceiling.

"No, but I've always wanted t..."

"Mr McCartney and Miss Jordan, please follow me" the exceptionally dressed man spoke.

They were seated in the middle of the upper class congregation and smiled at the couple opposite them. Paul pulled out her chair for her to sit down and then returning to his.

"I never knew they served dinner" she said looking through the menu.

"They do now" he said copying her.

All of the items were not labelled with prices so it was hard to guess how much they were, but it wasn't going to be low. There was little to choose from but every dish seemed unique and different.

"I know" Paul said closing his menu "I'll choose for you and you choose for me" he said folding his arms.

Amelia was prepared to take on the challenge "alright then" and on queue the waiter waltz over to their table.

"For the Sir?" He asked in a thick French accent.

She thought actually trying to think of what he'd like "Beef Wellington" she smirked and he rose his face.

"And for the Madam?" He turned to him understanding what they were doing.

"Spiced Bresse Duck" he said leaning back in his seat and instantly she wanted to refuse but it was too late.

When the waiter had walked away she let out what she'd been desperate to say...

"I hate spice!" She said whispering and leaning over the table so the guests wouldn't be offended.

Paul chuckled taking a sip of his champagne "hate is a very strong word Lia" and chuckled some more making her shake her head.

She was dreading it, what if she had to spit it out? She couldn't do that especially in a place like this. But she was taken back by the appearance and it distracted her from the thought of the taste. Paul's followed soon after making her tummy rumble and wanted his more.

"Bon appetite!" The waiter said bowing and taking away their bread plates from their starter.

She picked up the next set of cutlery and Paul pulled a sarcastic smile as he dug into his meal. She swallowed and took a small bite of the duck. It was an overwhelming taste sensation, she thought she was going to fall out of her chair. The spice wasn't overpowering and blended in pure harmony with the other herbs.