More From Hamburg

Liverpool

 Louise placed a mug of tea on the table in front of her youngest son and sat herself down opposite him, elbows on the table and her own cup cradled in both hands. George one-handedly tugged a cigarette out of the pack which was on the table next to him, lit it and then took a sip of his tea. They looked at each other silently for a while.

"Hamburg," said Louise.

George nodded. "Yeah," he said. Another drag of his cigarette. Louse said nothing, and George found he had to ask her. "What do you think?"

She shrugged. "I don't know," she replied, although George felt sure she did know. She always knew. "What do you think?" She always did that too. Turned it back to him. Sometimes he wished she wouldn't. This was one of those times.

"I think it'll be good," he declared. "Good work. Good pay. I'll be getting good money."

She continued to regard her son over the rim of her tea mug but made no further answer. George dropped his gaze, and then looked back up at his mum and found he had to drop the bravado act. "What do you think?" he asked again, and this time his tone was truly asking her to say.

"It's a long way," she said.

"Not that long."

"You don't speak any German."

"I can learn."

"Yeah, like you were always good at learning languages at school."

"I did some!" he objected, and she smiled at him, not unkindly.

"I've heard things about Hamburg. It's a rough place."

"So's Liverpool."

"More than Liverpool. It's a long way to be away on your own in a rough place."

"So you think I shouldn't go."

"I didn't say that."

"So, what do you think?" Again.

Louise Harrison reached across the old scratched kitchen table and placed her hand over his. He stared at it. The gesture didn't disturb him; theirs was a tactile family and his mum's squeeze of his hand wasn't unusual. But it wasn't giving anything away either. George looked back up at her. "I'd worry about you," she said.

"Why?"

"You're... very young."

"I'm..."

"Geo, why do you keep asking what I think and argue with everything I say?" He just stared back at her, trying to think... "Do you want me to tell you not to go?"

"No! I..."

"Do you want to go?"

Did he want to go? More than anything. If the others were going. If they were going, he had to, he had to stay in the band. He couldn't be left behind. He couldn't.

"Mum."

"Yes?"

He paused, and then went on, haltingly. He took a breath. "D'ya think I'd be ok, eh?" Quietly.

Louise looked across at the boy she still thought of as her little lad, her baby. Still his big, dark, and, she thought, rather beautiful eyes. Still his ears that stuck right out, still his thick hair now darkened to deep brown from the baby blond that seemed like yesterday. But now, a thinner and almost sculptured face, and a seriousness of expression that hinted at depths he seldom showed anyone, except her. The eyes searched hers. "I mean..." He didn't really have anything else to say. He just wanted to pull back from the moment.

"Course you would!" She smiled. "You're not daft. You can look after yourself." She paused for another sip of her tea. "And you're not going to be on your own. You'll all stick together, won't you." George nodded emphatically. "I'm not sure about you going off there on your own, but you won't be."

"Nah. We'll all be together. Paul's a good mate. And John..."

They both laughed at the mention of John. John could take on Hamburg single-handedly.

But he wouldn't have to. They'd all be together.

George took the last drag from the ciggie and stubbed it out in the full ashtray. He looked up at his mother and grinned. "Thanks mum."

"I'll make you some scones to share."

"Mum!! I don't need..."

"Shurrup. I'm making 'em." She pushed herself to her feet, and busily collected the two mugs and took them to the sink. "You'd better go and get some things together. You go in a few days."

"Mum?"

She looked round and frowned a query.

"I'll need you to sign for a passport."

Louise sighed her exasperation. "How long does that take? How much will it be?"

George crossed the kitchen, and put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. "Thanks mum," he said with a broad grin, and turned and nipped sharply out of the back door before more words could be said.