⇾ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈

Chapter Eighty-Nine: By George, I Think They've Done It

September 4, 1962

"The Beatles are going big!" John yelled out the window as Brian went to park the car in the parking lot of Abbey Road Studios.

It was 6:45. The boys were due to start recording in fifteen minutes. The sun was just beginning to sink and the air was getting chilly.

"John, shh," hissed Brian. "They're gonna think you're insane."

"Sorry, mother," John said in a high-pitched, comical voice and Brian awarded him with an irritated look back in the mirror. John shot a mockingly innocent smile back at him.

Nearly before Brian had stopped the car, Paul had already ripped the door open to the left of me and had hopped out, John following closely behind. John ran around to the other side of the car where Paul was and linked arms with him childishly, prancing around in a circle.

"We're going biiig, we're going biiig," they chanted.

A brief look of panic went over Brian's face, but then he stopped the car abruptly as Ringo and George tumbled out after their bandmates, creating a happy circle of their own. I felt my pulse accelerate at the mere speed of it all happening, but I heard John's timid voice say, "Ye comin', ma douce Donna?" and was able to come back to my senses.

"Right," I said, scrambling to step out onto the pavement. The boys waited eagerly for Brian to pop open the trunk so they could retrieve their instruments. "Back up," snapped Brian to the four young men who had crowded around him in anticipation.

I kept to the back, positively out of the way, laughing to myself at the humorous scene that had fallen over everyone in a blurry rush of adrenaline. I loved being with the band. I wouldn't trade any moment I had with them for anything in the world. Sometimes it felt like their cunning wisecrack was the only thing keeping me going.

I watched silently as they pushed past Brian the second the trunk was open and reached for their hard cases, hitting them together roughly in an effort to get them all out at once. Brian came to my side, smiling down at me. "They're a good lot, aren't they?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes," I replied. "They really are."

"Here, my dear," chirped John, coming up behind me and putting the leather jacket he'd been wearing around the light sweater I was wearing, leaving him in his suit jacket. "Yer teeth are chattering."

I frowned at him slightly, but pulled it closer around me, enjoying the warmth it provided.

~~~

"Do that again, boys!" said George Martin loudly—triumphantly...almost. Something wasn't right, and he could sense it. He took the headphones he had on off and handed them to his assistant as he rushed down to where the boys were standing.

"I don't know how—?" said John as he joined them. I leaned back in the chair I was in, watching him intently. The sight of him was like a tranquilizer shooting relaxation coursing its way through my veins. He alone was enough to keep me sane.

"What do you mean?" asked George.

"I can't play harmonica and sing at the same time," answered John.

George thought a moment, then pointed at Paul. Paul jerked out of a trance and looked around to be sure he was pointing at him. "You do it," said George.

"Me?" asked Paul nervously. The part was much lower than Paul's range. I could tell he was nervous about having to change it so suddenly. They'd tried changing it to him sometime in the past, but decided that they liked it better with John singing the part, and had transcribed a way for them to do it that way instead.

George nodded encouragingly. As he turned to return to the box we'd all been watching from, I saw John turn and say something to Paul and Paul nodded, biting his bottom lip in fright.

"Now," said George when he'd fixed himself back up. "Do that exactly the same way. Just add Paul on that lead part this time." He gave a little thumbs-up, and then looked down at the board in front of him filled with dozens of switches and dials.

I saw John look around and receive nods from all of his bandmates before he counted off and music began to play.

"Love Me Do" was a nice piece. I liked it. It was simple, yet somehow managed to be so intricate and brilliant at the same time. I wasn't exactly how Paul and John had managed that, but I guess it didn't really matter how because they'd done it.

"Love, love me do / You know I love you," sang Paul and John in harmony. "I'll always be true, / So please love me do."

Paul hit the notes with a trembling voice, successfully giving away that he was incredibly nervous around George. I saw John give him a proud nod as he pulled away from the harmonica to get ready to sing again.

When the song concluded, I heard the producer mutter under his breath, "By George, I think they've done it," and pull his headphones back off to give the boys a reassuring nod.

Brian and I sat up again to peer at them. They were high-fiving one another and chanting something we couldn't pick up on.

It was around nine o'clock now. The session was set to be over by then, but now it seemed that wasn't going to pan out that way, seen as how they still had a whole other song to do. It was time for the one that the boys were so reluctant about.

I fiddled with the seams on John's jacket that was in my lap. The studio was found to be relatively hot, and so my sweater alone was enough to keep my temperature regulated. I hadn't put the jacket down since we came in though. I found it to be comforting.

My eyelids were already beginning to grow heavy and I wasn't looking forward to sitting here for much longer, but I knew I'd just have to set it out. It wouldn't be much longer, hopefully.