The Life We Once Knew

Back in Hamburg

The idea of a change of scenery was quickly trashed. Going on tour was never a good idea for someone who wanted a change of scenery. All I saw was a car and a room, and a room and a room. Sometimes the inside of a plane, train, or theater. My change of scenery consisted of more walls and screaming fans.

Going with the lads on tour was a terrible idea. I was nursing a broken heart, and listening to thousands of screaming fans and security guards ordering me around didn't help matters. To make matters worse, I had to watch as a different band took Revolution's place as The Beatles opener. You would think, having been on every single Beatles tour up to that point, I would have expected that. My mind was clouded at that point, and I could barely remember my name let alone what a tour was like. To someone drowning in grief, it seemed like a brilliant idea. 

As bad of an idea as it was, there was a good side. Had I been left at home, the only company I would have had was Linda, who was visiting her family in America for a month. I could have called up Cynthia, Maureen, Pattie, or Jane, perhaps even Ellen would have made time in her busy schedule, but that was unlikely. They all always seemed to be busy. With the lads on tour and me at home, I would have been left with nothing but a baby, a dog, and crippling loneliness. Deep down, I knew Paul planned for that. He knew I wouldn't get much of a change of scenery, but at least I wouldn't be left alone.

"Let's do Nowhere Man," John called out, "Then, What Goes On, yeah?"

Paul mock saluted, "Aye aye, Captain."

"There's a good Macca."

All four lads laughed. They were rehearsing and doing a soundcheck all at the same time. The first show of the tour took us to the familiar streets of Hamburg, Germany. It felt good to be back. Part of me expected the cops to show up and deport George and I again, despite us being more than of age.

Vera and I sat in the seats of the theater, watching as the lads rehearsed. I always preferred to watch them rehearse rather than perform professionally. During the rehearsals, there was no guidelines to follow. They could play to their heart's content and, if they messed up, they got a cheeky remark rather than displeased fans. Seeing them rehearse reminded me of the days before we hit it big.

Vera was enjoying it. She would squeal every time the lads began to sing and slapped the seat of the chair like a drum kit. I watched her with a tender smile. A newspaper was open in my lap but I was only halfway paying attention to it. Vera and my mates captured my focus.

"Love!" Vera shouted, "Love Uncle Beebles."

I giggled, "There you go, Junior, you're gettin' it."

Vera seemed to have a new word everyday. She went from saying nothing but Mummy and Melly to saying teddy, love, uncle, and beebles. To her, all four of the lads were Uncle Beebles. Soon enough, she would get their names right. She continued to pretend drum on the seats as she watched the show.

"It seems she's musically inclined as well," Brian smiled as he walked down the aisle.

He took the seat next to me, his smile never leaving his face. Every time I saw him, he looked exhausted, now more than ever. This tour was already proving to be straining, with a new opener band and John's religious comment lurking in every dark corner. Brian was at the end of his rope. His eyes were always bloodshot like he never got enough sleep. Permanent dark bags hung underneath his eyes and he seemed to have more wrinkles than most men his age. His hair, though short, had specks of gray in it when he should not be old enough to go gray.

"I always knew I'd raise a drummer," I smiled, "She'll carry on when I'm long gone."

Brian smiled, "How are you?"