The Gift of Knowing

Chapter 4

Previously in The Gift of Knowing;

"The names James, James Paul McCartney. I prefer Paul though." I shook his hand, a little rattled that someone a year older me wasn't pummeling me, instead being friendly.

"I see you like guitars, do you play?" I nodded, getting enthusiastic. "Damn right I play, I can even play Raunchy." I blushed at my swear, knowing mother would be ashamed.

"Really? That's impressive, I've just joined a group called The Quarreymen. Maybe you've heard of us, maybe you haven't. The leader is named John Lennon, he would be impressed with your skills. Especially being so young, I'll try and find a time where we can all meet together. So he can hear you play, if you'd like to that is."

"O-of course I'd love to meet up! Let me give you my address so you know where to find me!" I tore of a piece of paper from the notebook filled with my sketches of guitars. Setting the other books on the ground I took a pen out of my pocket and wrote down the following;

25 Upton Green, Speke

I gave it to him, and he happily accepted it, tucking it into his coat pocket.

The meeting that started it all, that made it all happen is now coming into play. Let's hope the cards are in George's favor because meeting this particular John Lennon could change his life. Not just musically, but emotionally, phsyically and maybe even a little romance?

Pool of sweat have made a happy home on my underarms and palms, the latter causing the pen to consistently slip from my hand. Resulting in sloppy writing, or maybe it's just nerves? I'm not sure, but it doesn't matter now. What matter is that the meeting is today, yes, that meeting. As in the one that is make it or break it with the leader John Lennon of the band The Quarreyman. This is my chance to change the world, and I don't plan on messing it up.

Yesterday was a Sunday, and I was roused from the dinner table while eating some oatmeal for breakfast by a swift knock of knuckles on my front door.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I stood up quickly, causing my cheer to screech loudly on the floor. Accidently spilling the oatmeal otu of the bowl along with this the spoon clattered on the ground. I noticed none of this though, they were the last thoughts in my mind. Before I even reached the door I knew who it was,

Paul.

Who else would come out of their warm, safe, family abode, into the bone chilling snow to my doorstep? It just had to be Paul, there was no other explanation. I opened the door to see that specific shivering person there, I smiled at him and he smiled in return. His arms hugging his frame, desperately trying to keep in the heat. I opened the door all the way, hastily ushering him in. It wouldn't do me any good to have the guy that could help me get a career freeze to death, now would it? I didn't think so either.

"Georgie dear, who is that?" My mother called from across the house, making me blush at her nickname for me.

"A friend from school Mum!" I responded, I could hear her hum in approval. This is the first time anyone has come over afterall, mostly I go to other's houses. Not them to my own.

I could hear Paul snicker, but he quieted down when I shot him a playful glare. We exchanged pleasantries, the typical "How has you day been so far?" "Mine? Oh, it's been great. Thank you for asking." You know how it works. I finally cut to the chase,

"So... what'd he say?" It all came out in a rush, which caused Paul to smirk. I think he enjoyed this power he had over me, he liked to see me bounce on the balls of my feet in anticipation. He knew that I knew it too, which just seemed to amuse him more.

"By he who do you mean, I know many he's. Why you could mean Stu, or Peter or even my brother. Though he's not a part of The Quarreymen, he prefers photography. I've never figured out why, sure taking photos is a fun thing to do. But music is so much... funner, even though that isn't a word. It sh-"

I cut him of from his rambling,

"Paul, you know who I'm talking about. I'm talking about John! Is he letting me try out or not?" Exasperation evident in my tone of voice.

"I talked to him about it, and he said that there was no way you were getting in." Paul looked at me sadly, sorrow shining in his eyes.

My heart stopped, my world was slowly, but definitley, descending down. Ready to smash me through my floorboards and dead into the heavens.

"Unless..." I looked up at him, silently begging for him to continue.

"Unless, you played for me. So I could observe your skills, I'm kind of like the second man in the band. So he thinks of my opinion alot, he said that if I think you're good he'll let you have a shot. But you have to prove it to him though." Paul stared me dead in the eyes, the grin of a fool painted on his face.

I laughed, so loud and so long. In pure joy, nothing but joy. I was so excited that my chance had finally come, John was going to like me. He was going to approve, he was going to let me join, and he was going to like me. I was going to defy all odds and give it my all, and he was going to like it. I knew he would, he just had to. There's no way he couldn't. I was determined.

Paul loved it, and put in a good word for me to John. Today is Monday, it's my time to shine.

But now, now I'm starting to have second thoughts. What if I mess up, with all this sweat on my hands it's a completely sensable assumption that my fingers might slip on one of the strings. I know that brooding over it wouldn't change anything, whatever happens - happens. I'm just hoping that whatever does happen is enough for John to let me join, I believe he will. With my trusty Aaron in my hands I've got nothing lose, scratch that, I have alot to lose!

I need to go to 20 Forthlin Road, the McCartney household and meet Paul there. From there we would join up with the lads, where? He hasn't told me yet, but I might as well make my trek to his house now. Or else, my nerves were going to kill me.