She's So Heavy

Naughty BOY, You Let Your Knickers Down

Fingers drumming on lips, she worked them hard. Thinking, thinking, thinking.

About the past weekend- about what may or may not happen in the future. Paul McCartney was one fine piece of-

"Morning Jacqueline"

"Oh, hi Gary"

Oh god, she's sighing like the weight of another fella is on her. Jacqueline out of sorts for another is not terribly nice. Not nice indeed. "Errrr, there you go lovely" Handing over the photograph like it wasn't an invasion of her privacy yet again, was rather easy.

I'm a photographer. It's what I do. I see beauty, I need to keep a memento of it. Her profile is a dream. Lips- chin- cheekbones, drop a tendril of hair from above, wisping it gently to frame her features the snap becomes art. Pattie is young, immature- you can still see school in her but within Jackie lies an understanding of the way the world turns, deep thoughts, etcetera. All rising to caress her features, gifting them with the weight of wisdom, maturity, knowing. It's sexy. It shows. Her eyes narrow as she checks me out to see if I really did partake in yet another candid of her. Softening, she gazes back at the print in her hand.

"I'm quite pretty I suppose"

Before another word is uttered, she's back-

"Must have been a freak shot" Jackie's laughter fills the air and Pattie rushes in because Jacqueline's laughter, belly laughter, is mesmerizing and fleeting in its gift, not at all common. Although her laughter at the capturing of her beauty, like it was a misprint, is not at all amusing.

"What happened! You didn't give her a funny pill did you Gaz?"

"No! What are you on about? Funny Pill?"

"She doesn't laugh like this unless she's hallucinating"

"You are bonkers"

"Well she's hallucinating if she's laughing and it's not me gifting her my unique comedy"

"I didn't take a funny pill Pats. Gary here just presented me with a double exposure of you on me. Here- look"

"That's you Jacqueline G. Not you and me. You"

"Your beauty is..." Was muttered as he watched Pattie rubbing Jacqueline's shoulders down as if she was trying to massage the news of Jackie's beauty into her.

"Freaky?"

"Lovely"

"I'm a mum, not a beauty"

"Oh my goodness, Jacks! You are all of it. I'd give Georges right nut to have the depth you have, the emotion that seeps through your features from within"

"It's called exhaustion Pats"

"Well Paulie banging you all the time, would do that to a girl"

Clearing of an uncomfortable throat occurs and both girls stare at Gary... as he stands beside them having his heart ripped to pieces by a non-present Beatle.

She's shagging him. Of course, she is. Oh, that's where the bloody look comes from- she's being gorging on a bloody Beatle. Her look is one of sheer indulgence. Whipping back the picture from Jackie to reexamine the evidence was torture. My love. He's satisfied her. He's quenched her. He's shagged her silly and giving her that look. Damnit. It looks decisively like the look of love.

Dropping the image to the card table Gary turned tail and left the room. He'd have to think about this. How was a mere mortal able to trounce a Beatle. The cad isn't about all the time, is he. No- he's off touring the world with that shambles that he calls music. Jacqueline couldn't possibly want that sort of chaos in her life. No, a girl like her wants, no needs, a steady man. A man that can be there in her darkest hour. A man that can hold her every night. But that look...