In My Life - George Harrison/The Beatles

Chapter Twenty Two: Home

The plane ride back to England was rather quiet, with the whole of the Beatles and their entourage exhausted from the trip. Considering it was a private plane, the band had spread out across it, with John and Cynthia sat together in the window seats, hand in hand whilst John doodled I'm a notebook full of possible song lyrics, Paul sat in front of them reading, and then across the aisle was Ringo, asleep with his head resting against the window, and George sat in front of him, headphones plugged in to the in-flight radio.

Except he was only listening to the radio to ignore the others, his gaze settled on the seats in front of him in a scowl, an expression his face had been settled in for the majority of their trip. Whilst they were performing he seemed happy, and during their after-parties and all the press they'd done he'd seemed to be his usual, banterous self, but now they were on their way home he appeared to be rather miserable, something that Cynthia noticed and couldn't help but be confused over. Within a few hours they would be home, he would get to see Liverpool and his family for the first time in weeks, but yet he just looked utterly downcast.

"What's wrong with George?" Cynthia asked John quietly, shooting a sympathetic glance over to the younger man as he sat oblivious to the rest of them.

"Oh, him?" John sighed boredly, not even bothering to look over at his bandmate for himself, though he did at least glance up from his notebook to look at his wife. "He'll still be sulking after Connie,"

That didn't take her by surprise much, remembering all the times John's cousin had hung out with the lads and how George always seemed to light up when she appeared. After Connie moved away, John had told Cynthia all about how George was pining for her, though he never made it too obvious, except for one night after he'd been deported from Hamburg the first time, after all the band reunited and he got utterly drunk and cried on Cynthia's shoulder about how much he missed Connie. George couldn't remember that night, but Cynthia definitely did though she'd not told a soul about it, and it was the first time she realised George might just be in love with Connie.

"Bless him," she sighed sadly. "What actually happened between them? The last you told me they'd not spoken since she was last home,"

"Well they've shagged a few times since then," John spoke matter-of-factly with a shrug, seeming so casual despite him discussing the girl he classed as his little sister and his best friend, not even noticing Cynthia's surprise to his coarseness. "He's barely spoken to us about it,"

That was when Paul appeared, his head poking up from the seat in front as he overheard the conversation and turned round to join in, resting his arms on the back of his headrest. John let out a dramatic sigh when Paul showed, but the younger man continued to grin, as if he was thrilled by the gossiping. He probably was, since he'd told her once he'd wanted Connie and George to be an item ever since he'd first introduced them, despite them being fourteen and thirteen at the time.

"By the sounds of it, Cyn, he got it in his head that he loved her, and Lennie being Lennie decided that was too much for her so she did a runner," Paul explained. "He invited her on the trip and everything,"

"She's gone mad, I tell ya'," John nodded to Paul. "A couple of years ago, if he'd have done that she would've been all over him,"

"She might've been if she wasn't so bloody worried you'd have punched him," Ringo called to them, clearly now awake as she glanced over at them, a small smirk appearing on his face as John pretended to look shocked. "She was always worried you'd rough up the lads she fancied,"

"Me? Bugger off, as if I'd get in the way of young love," John exclaimed, his comment making Paul and Ringo exchange a look of joking doubt, knowing it to be far from the truth. "Anyway, doesn't matter, they've both missed their chance cause Con'll never leave London, the traitor,"