With just three days until the wedding, Brad, Molly and I are sat on a plane, headed for London, England.
John would have his chauffeur waiting at the airport to drive us to his house, the so-called Kenwood. There was about ten minutes or so until we touched down, and I was thankful. Molly was starting get restless.
The rest of the flight was filled with both Brad and I trying to calm my daughter down, as she squirmed around, biting on anything she could find.
"We have now touched down in England. Please take care when exiting the plane." The tannoy calls. Brad looks to me with a gleam of excitement in his eyes.
He takes my hand and guides us off the plane. We collect our bags (not that there's many), and follow the instructions John gave us to where our car would be waiting.
I spy a Rolls Royce in the corner of the car park, trying it's best to remain ambiguous, but mostly failing.
"I think that's it right there." I point, feeling Molly lift her head before placing it back down again in the crook of my neck.
My suspicions are confirmed when I see a man step out from the driver's seat.
"Hello, YN? Alf." He extends his hand to us both, and we put our bags on the floor in order to return the gesture.
"Lovely to meet you. I'm YN, this is Brad and this little trouble-maker is Molly Julia."
"Ah yes! I've heard all about you little one!" He coos, tickling Molly in my arms, making her squeal with laughter.
Standing back up to his full height, Alf smiles at us.
"Honestly, John's not stopped boasting about her since she was born."
I smile at the thought of John telling all his friends about his daughter who, despite the distance, was clearly his pride and joy.
"Well, let's not dilly-dally about in this rain, let's get you home."
..........
"Should be a good day, weather's set to be sunny, but they always say that." Alf states, with a belly-rumbling laugh that fills the entire car like thunder. He seems so jolly and it sure does help ease my nerves.
"Yeah, I've known John since he was little, just a little nipper. I was an old friend of his aunt, and then he got all big and famous like. He gave me this job because of my good looks." Alf boasts with a sudden seriousness.
Brad and I look at each other with confused amusement, not believing him for a second.
"Only joking! One look at this face and all the pedestrians run back onto the pavement." He bellows again.
We all share a laugh, and then the car goes silent as we slide through the streets to Kenwood.
In his letters, John had described how he and Cynthia had renovated the house, building a swimming pool and decorating the rooms with abstract sculptures which left much to the imagination.
It sounded impressive, and upon driving up to the door, i realised John wasn't wrong. It was beautiful.
The front garden was filled to the brim with vivacious flowers and bushes. It reminded me of a cottage you'd see in fairy tales.
"Woah, not done bad for himself here has he?" Brad comments, helping Alf get our bags out of the back. I head up to the door, running my hand along the slick wood before knocking.
Not even two seconds passed and John was at the door, a relieved and animated look on his face.
"Oh, I've missed you two." John breathes, stepping out and wrapping his arms around me and Molly. I lean into him, making sure not to squash our daughter.
"Hello, little one." John coos, sliding his hands under Molly's arms and lifting her out of my arms and on to his hip. I'm grateful if the break. She's getting heavy now.
"Daddy's missed you." He boops her nose, and carries her into the house before she gets ill from the typical English day.
"I'll take your bags to your room." Alf calls from behind us, and we thank him.
Before heading inside, I stand on the doorstep, mentally preparing myself for the events of the next few days. They're going to be painful, but it's too late to back out now.
"You okay?" Brad asks with serious concern, rubbing the small of my back.
I nod and smile as best I could, masking my dread. I'd be meeting Cynthia for the first time. The only contact I'd had with her is when I wrote her a letter telling her I was pregnant with John's child.
"You ready?"
"Yeah, let's do it."
YOU ARE READING
Norwegian Wood
Fanfiction"I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me." ~ A John Lennon Story. (Formerly called Yesterday.) {Mature Content}
