In My Life - George Harrison/The Beatles

Chapter Twenty Seven: Not Alone

October 1962

Connie really didn't want to go back to London.

That thought had been bothering her all week. She'd spent nearly everyday of her week at home hanging around with her friends the way she had done before moving down south, and even though she had a great time with them her mind was constantly stuck on the thought of how her days with them were numbered. The thought had made her panic, making her want to squeeze in as much as possible in her visit, see as many people and go to as many places as she could. It wasn't like how it was when she was a teenager any more, where she could just take her time around town, instead it felt as if she was rushing to cram in as much nostalgia as she could, because she was only in Liverpool for the week and had no idea when she'd be able to return. It felt as though she was revisiting her past in a hurry to remind herself of everything that she'd missed, reliving all the happy memories of her youth so that she didn't feel so down once she was back in London.

If anything, trying to see everyone and everything just made it seem so much harder to consider going back. She liked her life in London, or at least she thought she did until she came home. She was living her dream, working as a writer in the capital city, but she never realised just how down she felt there until she returned to Liverpool and realised that it had been so long since she laughed so much her entire face hurt. She'd almost forgotten what it felt like to feel so full of joy just because of an evening spent with friends, and it was a jarring reality check of just how lonely she actually was in London. Every night she'd been home that hadn't been spent watching the Beatles at the Cavern had been with friends in her living room, and she had realised that other than the disasterous date she'd had with Henry, she'd never had a friend over to her flat in London. In truth, she didn't have a friend she'd actually want to have over there, the only people who's company she enjoyed that much all being stuck up North.

Two nights before she was meant to get the train back down south, Connie laid awake in bed reading old books that once belonged to her mother, trying so desperately to take her mind off the worry of going back, knowing now that she would never be as happy there as she was in Liverpool. She loved the city itself, but she couldn't help but wonder if she would feel the same way if everyone she loved was also down in London, if the boys lived just round the corner, if she could go and see George any time she wanted like she did as a teenager. Connie refused to dwell on that too much, the thought being painful, knowing that she could not uproot the boys to London just because she felt lonely.

Life in Liverpool would go on without her, as it had done for the last two years. Connie had moved to London to make her own way in the world, to set off on her journey of achieving her dreams of becoming a celebrated, published writer, and so it was really her own fault that she felt such a strong fear of missing out. The thought that she would be so far away in the south with everyone she cared about at home, living their own lives, having fun and laughing without her, caused a physical stabbing pain of anxiety in her stomach, and Connie had to fight back tears all night until she eventually gave in, crying herself to sleep.

It didn't help that the very next morning she came downstairs to see the boys sat about in her living room. George, John and Paul were all sat on the sofa, tuning their guitars, whilst Ringo was tapping his drumsticks gently against the side of the fireplace. As she entered the room all of them turned to face her and Connie was instantly self-conscious of the red bags under her eyes from crying and so she pulled her cardigan around her tighter, fiddling with her hair to distract them from noticing. She'd always hated crying in front of people, the only person she ever felt comfortable crying around being John because he'd seen her at her worst, but still she hated to think they knew about her internal conflict. They'd all opposed to her moving in the first place out of their selfish desire to keep her in Liverpool where they thought she belonged, and she didn't want them to know that they'd all actually been right.