Get It Straight, Or Say Good Night

Closet Capers

The small vestry's, usually used for storage, sat situated under the same roof-line of the main church building. The rooms were abuzz, Louie, her Ma and Dot all busy doing the many pre-wedding bridal rituals like hair, makeup and of course donning the dress, made by Lou's own hand.

She toyed with the lace as it scratched her skin, she wasn't joyously happy but she was pleased.

Pleased she was safe, pleased her child would not be a bastard with no father and terribly pleased John and she had finally, after many back and forth's, combined forces, signed names and made a deal that should give them both what they need. They even comically shook hands much to Paul's delight.

For Lou, it was simple- safe harbour.

For John, much, much simpler still - a housekeeper and darner of socks.

The moment it became anything more would have them divorcing and going their separate ways. Lou liked John and John, Lou; So they didn't want to wreck the friendship with misinterpretation or messy un-required or unrequited emotions, did they.

The deal may make the marriage of Lou and John simple, but the chattels that came along with it weighted heavy.

They were to marry in Louise's family's eyes, Aunt Mimi eyes, under church laws and any friends and other family that they would interact with would see Mister and Missus Lennon.

They were to live together.

They were to have a baby.

Even when the deal was demolished by a lawyer's ink or ripped up by their own hand, the baby would always be theirs in the eyes of everyone, not ever just hers.

Both hadn't even thought that far ahead, perhaps as Lou's belly grew they would.

"I saiddd toss it here" John was vexed, Paul wasn't doing as he was told and kept jumping on the desk, stepping onto the closet and peering through a small square window every bloody five minutes. "One more ya, tosser"

"No John you'll be right pickled if you keep it up" Paul patted his inside jacket pocket where the flask of Jim McCartney's favourite scotch sat safely and nodded at his own type of parental control over the boorish Lennon.

"I'll take the bloody desk away and leave you in here, high and dry for the night. Stuck there on that closet, ya wank" Doing a slow pirouette to find the door again, John started for it, ready to find his own drinks, or better still, leave the church building altogether.

"Don't you dare" Paul banged the flask on the top of the closet and chucked it to Lennon. Caught, sculled and drained well before Paul hopped off the desk and looked at John's get-up. "Put your tie on, John"

"I don't wanna"

"Baby.... Look mate it's half three you need to be ready by ten ta four. Fix your hair, do your tie" Paul offered up a comb and pointed out the overly ornate mirror as if John couldn't find it himself.

"I can't do this, it's stupid ain't it. Getting married to some broad I don't really want" John flopped on the timber pew that was the only seat in the room, the hard surface making him rub his arse from the drop to the seat.

"John, this was your idea, you did this. Lou's just through there almost ready to walk down the aisle" Paul sat beside John and patted his shoulder lightly "and mate.... This isn't some broad, it's Lou and if you leave her jilted by that altar you won't just have the Harrison's breathing down your neck for blood, you'll have me there too, with the sharp knife"

"Being a bit melodramatic aren't you Paul" John cracked his knuckles and annoyed with the lot, hit his thigh on repeat "Perhaps if you're so sweet on her you should hop on down the damn aisle"