Let It Be (A Beatles Story)

Chapter Sixty-Three

Brian wanted to have me hospitalized after I fainting while the lads were in the studio, but John told him to be quiet.  If I said I was fine, I was fine.  The manager was obviously a bit irritated, and John's mood swings didn't help much either.  

"Are you alright, love?" he brushed some hair out of my eyes, an action that was a bit too romantic for my taste, and for Paul's.  I heard him mutter something rather nasty to George, which made him smirk slightly at me.  Things between us were still tense.  I was beginning to fear that we would never find peace.  

I nodded that I was fine, and John stood up and went back into the studio.  As I hurried to finish a report, I knew Brian was watching me.  Biting my lip, I tried to push away the guilt that was present in my mind.  

Once rehearsals were over, I gave my report to Brian and he took it without a wonder.  Then he announced to the boys that they were going to London to appear on a TV show.  Ringo and Paul smiled at the idea, meanwhile John and George left without saying goodbye.  

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There is a possibility that you could relate to this feeling.  Whenever I read books or saw films about the Beatles, as much as I enjoyed them, I always had this sick feeling of being invasive.  Though they were still celebrities in the future and most of those sort of peoples' lives are open for examination, there was that feeling that made me want to stop.  It wasn't my business what John did on his vacations with Cynthia and Julian or how Paul felt when Linda died.  They were their affairs, and theirs alone.  

And even though now I was apart of their lives, and quite possibly would be for a long time, I still had that uncomfortable feeling.  I wasn't supposed to be part of the picture.  I shouldn't be living with Paul, for he was supposed to be dating Jane.  Nor should I stay with any of the lads.  They all had careers and families to worry about, and it pained me to see them go out of their way to help me.  

When Paul fell asleep that night, I grabbed my things and pulled on my jacket.  I wasn't sure what was compelling me to do that, but the force was undeniable.  

I wanted to run away.  

Wrapping the Parisian scarf around my neck, I unclasped the locket the lads had gotten for me and left it on the kitchen table along with a note.  

Leaving a note she hoped would say more,

She goes downstairs to the kitchen clutching her handkerchief,

Quietly turning the backdoor key, 

Stepping outside, she is-

"Am I really going to be free?" I whispered aloud.  But before my mind could convince me otherwise, I took my bag and hurried out the front door.

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Paul's POV

I heard the front door close from upstairs in my room.  After pulling on a shirt and sweatpants, I hurried downstairs, worrying if there was an intruder in the house.  I was also afraid for Elle; she was sleeping in the living room.  

But when I arrived downstairs and flicked on the overhead light, no one was to be seen.  Elle was gone.  

When I spotted the note on the kitchen table, I feared the worse.  Had she been kidnapped, and this was her ransom note?  But as I read the paper, my fears turned to complete sadness.