The Arch of Love ~ Paul McCartney

29. Little lion man

Liverpool, 3 June '62, 1:20 PM

I was late. I was supposed to meet Paul at the café at one, but is was already twenty past by the time I got there. I knew he hated it when I arrived late anywhere. Paul liked things to go exactly as planned and arriving late wasn't acceptable. Still, I couldn't help it if work ran over and he had to understand that. He had cancelled on me more than once because of meetings or practice with the band. It went both ways.

Besides, we hadn't seen each other in over a month as the band had played yet another residency in Hamburg. There was only so much we could do to stay in contact in that time. Though we still sent letters, him to the house and me to some kind of nightclub, calling was impossible and visiting him was unheard of.

There was so much I had been wanting to tell him and there was only so much you could write down on paper. I didn't have Paul's way with words. No, my letters seemed cold and unpersonal. They fell flat next to his, despite how hard I tried.

It had been hard to not see him at all in the weeks that he was gone. It was strange how easily you could get used to having someone around so often. There was nothing public about our relationship as we were always hiding around the corner. Aside from a few glimpses, his friends didn't know I existed. My friends knew he existed, but didn't know of my link to him. We had managed to keep everything under cover; the perfect secret.

That, of course, also meant that I hadn't been able to tell anyone I was sad that he was gone. I couldn't tell anyone but Paul himself. And so that was what I had written down in my letters to him. I had poured my heart out, telling him all about how I missed him and hoped he would come back soon. I had written that I longed for his kisses and touches and that I cherished our shared moments in the Cavern. And somehow, after writing all that, I had managed to still sound flat and emotionless.

What came back was a letter filled with the adventures of someone who clearly had the time of his life. The band was really kicking off in Hamburg, living on the name they had made for themselves over the past few years they had been coming to the German city. What ensued were long days and even longer nights on stage, alternating the spotlight with two or three other bands, some from Liverpool too.

Most days they didn't get to go to bed until it was already light, another day starting. They would sleep the day away, having breakfast at dinner time and then, when night would come, it would start all over again.

They had moved up from the nasty sailor's pub they played at when they first went over to Hamburg, nearly two years ago. Though this club wasn't much better and they were still mainly playing to sailors and prostitutes, they were climbing the ladder of the Hamburg nightlife.

What came, too, was the photograph the guy had taken at New Year's; a small, black-and-white photo, hanging on to the edge of being out of focus. It showed me sitting on Paul's lap, smiling into the camera. Paul, however, was looking up at me, a strong look of adoration in his eyes. Looking at it for the first time, and even now, made me jump a breath.

As it turned out, the picture had been taken by a friend of Paul's. A boy who had been part of the band when they went to Hamburg for the first time. He had fallen in love with a German girl and when the rest of the band went home, he decided to stay behind. That boy, the original bass player of the Beatles, had been in Liverpool for New Year's, taken our picture and then jumped on the train back to his girlfriend. That boy, barely twenty-one years old, had died the day before the band came back to Germany. He had lived his life on the fast track, but hadn't been able to marry the love of his life.

It had been a crazy month-and-a-half for Paul and the band and now, the day after they returned from Europe, they were meeting up at the Cavern to return. Because in three days, they had another audition at a recording studio. Paul had written that they were optimistic, now that they had even more experience performing. And hopefully no one would have a massive hangover this time.