The Nearest To My Heart -John Lennon Fan Fiction - Paul McCartney Fan Fiction - Beatles Fan Fiction

Chapter Eighteen - Tillman/McCartney

Paul's lips were slightly parted, his fingers moved deftly over the keys of the upright piano.

His genuine enthusiasm for music was appealing to Charlie. The song he played sounded familiar, a bittersweet smile of recognition appeared on her face. Fats Waller. I'm Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter. The song evoked memories of her childhood.

Charlie softly sang. "I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter, and make believe it came from you." She looked over at Paul, seated next to her on the piano bench. 

Paul smiled, impressed that Charlie knew the song. He crooned. "I'm gonna write words oh, so sweet. They're gonna knock me off my feet. A lot of kisses on the bottom." He laughed and winked at her. "I'll be glad I got 'em!"

She laughed, shaking her head. "I'm gonna smile and say, I hope you're feeling better, and close with love the way you do. I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter, and make believe it came from you!"

He played enthusiastically. "Gonna smile and say, I hope you're feeling better, and close with love the way you do," He added. "Sing the last bit with me." They sang together, his tone soft and hers rough, but the differences in their voices complimented each other. "I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter, and make believe, make believe, make believe it came from you!"

Brian stepped into the front room, slipping on his blazer. "I'll be off then." He stated awkwardly, interrupting the lighthearted moment. "Paul, don't forget we've got an engagement at the BBC this afternoon.

Paul grinned, turning on the piano bench to face his manager. "I haven't forgotten."

Brian nodded stiffly. "You two will have the place all to yourselves. No interruptions."

He wanted to please his boys and provide them with whatever they wanted. It was the reason why he'd allowed Paul the use of his flat. They were going to work on an unfinished song of Charlie's. Brian suspected that they'd be doing more than songwriting. "You'll phone the office if you need anything?"

Paul nodded, turning to face the piano.

Brian hesitated for a moment, wanting to speak with Paul alone, and be assured that nothing untoward would happen. He desperately wanted to be one of the boys though and kept his misgivings to himself.

He walked over to the door, grabbing his overcoat off the rack, and draped it over his arm. Brian took a fleeting look at Paul with Charlie before he stepped out of his flat.

"Brian's a bit of a mother hen, but he means well," Paul explained good-naturedly.

He thought taking Charlie to Brian's flat was his best option to be alone with her. The Asher townhouse was simply out of the question. Paul didn't want to take Charlie to the flat George and Ringo shared either. Being alone with Charlie and helping with her song is what he wanted.

He wasn't going to push for anything to happen, but there was the hope that something would. "You're a Fats Waller fan?" Paul was under the misguided assumption that he knew more about music than Charlie. They'd only ever talked about current artists or musicians from the 50s. He smiled fondly. "It was my dad who introduced me to this kind of music. What about you?"

Charlie looked over at the portable tape recorder, placed on a small end table near the piano, and turned it off.  She wasn't comfortable sharing details about her life. She kept the bad memories to herself and was hesitant to share the handful of good ones.

The look on Paul's face was one of genuine curiosity, and that endeared him to her at that moment. This was the side of Paul she enjoyed, sharing their enthusiasm for music. "Ida would sing to his records. Fats Waller was one of her favorites." She reached out, turning on the tape recorder, and abruptly ended the conversation. "We should start working on the song."