Above Us Only Sky (Paul McCartney/Beatles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 28 - You Know I Love You Still

The phone was answered on the third ring.

Marisol uttered something that must have been incomprehensible, judging by the long pause from Brian's secretary.

"Sorry, you said this is Marisol?" Joanne said. "I'm sorry, it's just we get so many calls from people pretending to be Ringo's sister or Paul's cousin. Can you hold the line please?"

There was another pause.

"Hello, this is Wendy, how can I help?"

"Wendy! Hi, it's Marisol..." She racked her brain, searching for that tidbit of information that she needed until finally it came to her. "Thank you so much for the wedding gift. The vase is lovely. It's on our dining room table." Still in the box, with all the other vases, but nobody needed to know that.

"Make sure that husband of yours keeps it filled with flowers," Wendy said, her voice friendly.

"Oh yes! Quite," Marisol said, then wondered when she'd started speaking like a sixty-year-old Englishman. "I mean, it looks beautiful with or without flowers. It's simply lovely. And we don't have anything else like it." And now she was babbling.

"Yes, I got the lovely thank you card from the both of you. Is there something I can help you with?"

Marisol took a deep breath and forged ahead. Wendy likely knew Paul's wherabouts at any given moment so the woman would see right through a lie. But Marisol hadn't come up with anything better in her agitated state.

"Yes, if you don't mind. Paul asked me to drop something off at Ringo's flat...on Montagu? And I've somehow misplaced the exact address."

There was only the slightest hesitation.

"Oh. No problem love. Can you hold?"

There was a bit of murmuring and the sound of papers shuffling before Wendy came back on the line and read off the address. "It's 34 Montagu Street, love."

"Thank you, Wendy."

34. That would be easy to remember. That's about how old she would be by the time Paul forgave her for this little jaunt.

"No problem, love. We will see you soon at Brian's holiday party."

Which Marisol knew nothing about. "Right! See you soon!"

Marisol consulted the London A to Z. Or A to "Zed" as the Londoners called it.

Two left turns and a straight shot down Lisson Grove. It couldn't be much more than a mile or so away.

Leaving Melody in the care of that woman for what would surely be no more than a few minutes, she peeled out of the courtyard in Paul's Mini. Fans scattered left and right.

The parking gods were with her and Marisol pulled into a choice spot in front of the building. She killed the engine and cased the surroundings. Paul's DB6 was nowhere around. But it wouldn't be, would it? He'd park down the street or around the block if he didn't want to be discovered by his snooping wife.

She felt a little sick to her stomach, leaning over to stare up at the windows, hoping no one was looking out.

What now? Should she march up to the front door and knock? Wait for Ringo to appear, holding his drumsticks, and say to him, "Oh hey, have you seen my cheating husband lately?"

While she was thinking this, a van pulled up and parked behind her. Two men dressed in work clothes got out of the van and went straight into the flat, one of them carrying a toolbox.

Well, that settled it. Paul wasn't here rubbing knees and other parts with Maggie, or any journalist. Not unless they'd broken something having so much wild sex and had to phone a repairman.