⇾ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈

Chapter Thirty-Six: (Almost) Mrs. Lennon

November 18, 1961

Days went by and turned into weeks. I was keeping in contact with all of the boys regularly, but also sending letters directly to John at the same time. I wasn't sure if Paul, George, and Pete knew about this or not.

John had been telling me about how they were playing at another club now, even though they shouldn't be. They said that it was Paul who had wanted to play there, and John stressed how much he was against it, contrary to his best friend.

John spoke of how the signer of their contract was upset about this and already threatening them. So, what do they do? Try and do it in secret. Not exactly smart.

Back in Liverpool, Dot and I had been keeping in touch, seeing each other at least once a week and we often found ourselves posting our mail to the band together.

Her belly had begun to grow and was almost hard to hide from everyone. She began to worry that she'd have to tell them before Paul got back. When she heard that the band was walking on thin ice and would likely return home early, she looked almost relieved.

"When do they come back?" asked Trixie as we got to my house from school on Friday, November 18.

"December 20," I replied, taking some stuff out of the mailbox.

"That's a whole month!" she said. "How can you wait?"

I looked at her skeptically. "What else would I be doing? It's not like I have any other friends besides you."

She rolled her eyes. "It doesn't bother you? I mean, not knowing what he's doing?"

"Trixie, we aren't together, you're forgetting. There's no promise for him to keep...yet." I sighed.

She frowned. "You're right, I guess."

"Besides, it's John. His reputation is literally just women, no strings attached. That's probably why he didn't start going out with me first." I laughed. "He has to get all he can before he gets none."

She laughed. "I suppose so."

I unlocked the door to my place and we made our way inside and sat our stuff down. I leafed through the letter quickly, taking the one addressed to "(almost) Mrs. Lennon," something the rest of the band had taken a liking to calling me because it got on John's nerves.

I took the single letter from John and stuck that in my pocket to open later when Trixie was gone.

She came over to me, now with a glass of water. "Almost Mrs. Lennon?" She smirked. "They've still got that going?"

"They haven't slacked once." I laughed at their childishness.

"John must really like you." She belted a string of laughter. "To let them keep doing this."

I rolled my eyes. "He probably just can't stop them."

She shrugged. "Ye never know. What does it say?"

I leaned back against the counter and opened the letter. I read it in my head a few minutes before giving off important parts to Trixie, like we'd recently fell into the routine of doing.

Dear Donna,

It's Paul writing this addition of "Letters with the Beatles!" How's Liverpool? Hamburg is duller without you around still. George says hi, and of course John sends a hearty—.

The word wasn't followed by anything, instead ending in a messy line as if someone had come and jerked it away. I presumed that was John's doing.

Never-mind, John said no to that. I would tell you that Pete says hello as well, but he's actually been gone a few days. We don't really know where he's gone. Probably shacked up with a bird somewhere. But we've been stealing Ringo from the Hurricanes and have been enjoying that immensely.

Anyways, they're getting more upset by the day. I suspect they'll catch us playing where we shouldn't someday soon and something bad will happen.

Of course, I'm not sure he could do to us, other than let us go. Perhaps he could snitch on George. He is underage, after all. Other than that, nothing is really happening here. We're just constantly keep a watch over our shoulders!

On a lighter note, George finally did it! He finally los—.

Another rough line.

Sorry about these marks. George and John are being pricks.

I could just picture George and John pouncing on Paul as he wrote this.

Ah, and send a lovely little greeting from us to your friend Beatrice. We of course can not wait to see her again.

Looking forward to meeting again,

The Beatles.

The letter ended with a little smiley-face at the bottom, probably drawn by Paul or George.

"Paul's written this one," I said to Trixie. "He says hello to you." I eyed her. She smiled and nodded. "They've been sneaking around playing at other clubs and they're scared someone'll rat out George for being underage if they're caught. Hmm, Pete's run off and they're playing with Ringo." I shrugged and looked up, having nothing else to say.

"Did ye get one from John?" She smirked, knowing I had and had hidden it. I sighed and pulled it out. "You'll never get away," she said.

I opened it and began to read, smiling at every little printed letter.

Donna,

Sorry for anything the lads have written to you. Anything they may say about me probably isn't true.

I'm enjoying hearing about everything that's going on back home, so keep your cute little stories coming, yeah?

"What're you over there smiling at?" Trixie came to my side to read it too.

As you probably heard, Pete's run off again. I'm not exactly sure what to do about him at this point. Ringo has been a lovely little lad to jam around with. Him and the Hurricanes have been invited to be a backing band for some bloke I've never heard of, so that's exciting for them.

As for us, we're walking on thin ice. Bouncing from club to club, and I suspect it won't be long before we're caught and then it's back to Liverpool with our tails tucked between our legs.

Beside all that, how are you? I hope you're doing good. How's Beatrice and Brian? I hope they're good as well. Hope everything and everyone at home is treating you right.

~John

"Sounds like they're having a hectic trip," said Trixie.

I nodded. "They're gonna get in trouble."

"Whose idea even was it?" She laughed.

I gave her a skeptical look, wide-eyed, and shrugged. "John told me it was George because of some girl he met, then George said it was Paul, and Paul said it was Pete, which makes no sense considering Pete is gone. Either way, I have no idea."

"Them Beatles, always getting into trouble!"

I laughed and nodded. "That's what's so interesting about them."

She raised her eyebrows and smirked, leaving the room as I blushed.