He's So Fine [Beatles / George Harrison FanFiction]

Chapter Eight: 9th November 1961

'Now, all you cave dwellers! Welcome to the best of cellars! And welcome to a very special guest in The Cavern today... Mr Brian Epstein of NEMS music store! Please make Mr Epstein welcome...'

Bob Wooler made the announcement just as George stepped back onto the stage, ducking his head under the low archway, guitar carried on his hip. He looked round at Bob and raised his eyebrows at him, then looked for John and Paul. They were over the other side of the small Cavern Club stage, chatting to the girls at the front. Whether either of them had noticed that quick exchange was hard to say.

George had clocked him as soon as he'd stepped through the narrow doorway that led up to the street. He was ushered through by the Cavern's doorman, Paddy, missing out the usually obligatory signing in process, going straight over to meet Ray McFall, the owner.

He looked out of place in his dark suit and crisply starched shirt. Ray and Bob always wore suits, but Brian Epstein's was a cut above; obviously tailor made, expensive, top quality. Another man in a long length raincoat, a woolly scarf and glasses, followed him inside and stood beside him as Brian spoke to Ray. George recognised him from the record shop too - he took the record orders, writing them in a huge book. He was tall-ish and wirey, his mac seemed to hang straight down from his shoulders. He looked around the club and its inhabitants with a certain wild-eyed wonderment that bordered on fear, and pulled the front of his scarf up to his chin, just in case any of these maniacal teenagers went for his jugular.

George perched on the ledge next to Bob Wooler's DJ table, his guitar on his lap, rethreading his E string. It had snapped when he was playing and an impromptu break had been called, but the running order in the Cavern Shows were never rigid. The sets were always quite casual.

Brian Epstein spoke to Ray for a couple of minutes and then he brought him over towards the DJ table. Curiosity piqued, George stood up. 'What brings Mr Epstein in here, then?' he asked and Brian looked at him strangely.

'You've been in the shop,' he said and George nodded. Of course he had. Everyone had.

Brian Epstein was something of a local celebrity and he was treated as such. Everyone knew who he was, even if they'd never spoken to him. He owned NEMS, the music store that was at the top of Mathew Street and he'd written a column in the new Merseybeat newspaper. He'd never come into the low, dingy depths of the Cavern before though. It must have been arranged specially. George doubted he'd queued up with the girls outside in the fog and rain.