Chapter 33

If you have been reading thus far, you will know all the crazy things I’ve been though. But I’d have to say one of the most interesting would have to be our trip to India. It was February 1968, and as usual Paul and I were leaving with the later crew. George and John were the most enthused about the trip, so it made sense that they scurried off before us. Ringo, on the other hand, was definitely the least into it. He almost refused to go, but after packing a whole suitcase full of baked beans, he agreed to stay till they were out. The plane had just landed in Delhi, India and there were more than an expected number of fans awaiting our arrival.
“Ah crap, look at this,” Paul muttered looking out the window. I leaned over him and saw the big group.
“They must have known we were coming, what with George and John already here,” Ringo said looking out his window. Paul sighed heavily.
“I’ve been on this bloody plane for the last 20 bloody hours, and went through five blooming time zones….I really don’t want to deal with this right now,” he said frustrated.
“Well is there anyway to get by them?” I asked. He shook his head.
“Probably not, especially since it’s just us four.” He answered.
“Well, I say to hell with the press. I want out of this plane and me arm’s starting to really hurt,” Ringo said rubbing his elbow. Paul and I looked back to him.
“What’s this? Your arm?” Paul asked.
“Yeah, I’m starting to feel quite a bit of throbbing pain…where we were injected with all those required things,” Ringo explained. Paul nodded.
“Right, let’s go then,” he said standing up. I followed suit, “We’ll tell the driver to go straight to the hospital,”
“Thanks Paul,” Ringo said wincing slightly. We walked out and there was a film crew ready to catch us coming down the stairs. Paul waved as if he was pleased to see them, and the rest of us did the same. Running, we made it to our car and once inside Paul told the driver to head straight for the hospital. The driver nodded and we were off. Paul leaned across me to look at Ringo.
“How you holding up Ring?” Paul asked.
“Ah, I can still feel my arm if that’s what you’re asking,” Ringo replied.
“Oh, alright then,” Paul said turning to the driver, “Step on it,”
“Of course sir,” the driver replied.
“How are you love?” Paul asked scooting closer to me and taking my hand. I smiled.
“Tired,” I replied and he smiled in return.
“Yeah, same here,” he yawned making me do the same. He laughed, and put my head on his shoulder. I closed my eyes for only a few minutes.
“Uh, uh,” I heard the driver stutter and I noticed we were no longer moving.
“What’s the problem driver?” Paul asked and I brought my head up opening my eyes. Straight ahead of us there was nothing. No road, no buildings, nothing; however, behind us was a line of press cars that had followed.
“Uh, I’m—lost,” the driver spurted out.
“You’re lost?! How can you be bloody lost!?” Paul said annoyed. Whenever Paul was tired or agitated, in result he was often in a bad mood. The driver swallowed seeing Paul’s angry face and I touched his arm. He looked back at me.
“Paul, don’t be so harsh,” I whispered. He raised his eyebrows at me.
“Harsh? You think I’m being harsh? I’m not being as mad as I should be,” he said loud as day. The driver glanced at me and back at Paul, still looking at me quizzically, “He bloody lives here, gets paid to drive people around. Ringo is in pain, needing to go to a hospital and there are thousands of bloody press cars behind us! And you’re telling me to be calm? Sorry, I don’t think so love,” he finished turning back to the driver, who seemed to be sweating bullets. Many people didn’t want The Beatles angry at them in fear that they would sue or do something terrible. Even if it wasn’t that big of deal, the most likely result would be in favor of a Beatle.
“I’m, so, sorry sir,” he said. Paul rolled his eyes.
“Yeah well, that’s not going to help us now,” he snapped looking to Ringo, “Are you alright?”
“Um, I really need to get to a hospital Paul, maybe one of the press cars will help us out,” Ringo said weakly. Paul mumbled a few choice words to himself, let go of my hand, and exited the car.
“I’m really sorry about him,” I told the driver who looked back at me surprised, “He’s had a long day, and it’s nothing against you personally…he’s just in bad mood,”
“Thank you ma’am,” the driver smiled weakly and Paul opened the door poking his head in.
“Alright, found someone,” he informed us. Ringo nodded and Maureen helped him out of the car and I got out on Paul’s side. He took my hand and we ran over to the car that was helping us out and they ran Ringo to the hospital. It was nothing serious, just some affects of the needle and injections. They gave him some pain killers and sent him on his way. When we finished, the driver from earlier was waiting for us. Paul peeked inside the car and stood back shaking his head.
“No, I’m not bloody going to get in his car again,” he said.
“C’mon Paul, he was under a lot of pressure,” I told him.
“Yeah, well, we’ve had plenty of drivers under pressure and they all did fine. In this case, Ringo could’ve been in real trouble. I’m tired and jet lagged, and I just want to go back to the hotel and sleep—not get lost in this forsaken desert.” Paul said and just then the driver got out of his car.
“Sir, I’m sorry about earlier. I’m, well, I’m kinda new and I was trying to be fast and I just, I, well, I just got lost. I know how to get back, I promise,” he said looking afraid. Paul let out a grunt.
“Hm, well if you’re new, maybe you shouldn’t be driving us around. We’re important you know,” I heard Paul mutter. I opened my mouth and pulled on his hand a bit.
“Paul McCartney stop being a jerk!” I said firmly to him. He looked down at me surprised, “He’s new, and you may be a Beatle but you aren’t bloody royalty—people make mistakes and they can be made on you too, you know. I’m tired as well and I’m sure Ringo and Maureen are too. The longer we sit here and protest about riding home with this poor guy, the less time we get to sleep and the longer we have to wait. So, put your attitude somewhere else and get in the car,” I ordered and Paul’s eyes were as big as saucers and his mouth was open.
“Alright, sorry,” he said and opened the door.
“Thank you,” I said and followed him. Ringo and Maureen also joined us and the driver found his way to the hotel/camp whatever you want to call it, just fine. Paul and I said quick hellos to the others already there, and followed them by quick good nights. Paul and I walked to our little bungalow in silence and Paul opened the door. We dragged our suitcases in and I collapsed on the bed. Paul, silent, took his shirt off slowly. I sat up and looked at him.
“What?” he asked noticing me looking at him.
“Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?”
“I don’t want you to yell at me again,” he responded sitting on the bed, back to me, and placing his shirt nicely in his suitcase.
“Paul, I’m not going to yell at you again,” I told him and moved so I was sitting directly behind him. He laughed sarcastically and unzipped his pants.
“Are you sure about that? That last time I saw you like that, you slapped me,” he said then quickly whipped around so he was facing me. I made a face.
“I’m not going to slap you again,” I said knowing he just realized that I could.
“Well, I’ve never seen you mad like that before,” he said looking sad. I shrugged and moved next to him.
“Paul you were being a jerk,” I said and he made a face, “whether you think so or not—you have a tendency to get bad moods when you are tired or frustrated, and I felt bad for him. He didn’t do it on purpose, he was trying his best,”
“That’s true,” he said then lifted the corner of his lip, “I suppose I did over react aye?” I nodded.
“Just a little,” I said, “That’s the only way I could snap you out of it—you know, to be angry,” Paul rubbed his forehead.
“Gosh, I feel like such an ass now—I wish I could apologize,” he said sincerely. I smiled.
“I already did for you,” Paul let out a little laugh.
“Yeah? When did you do that?”
“When you were finding another ride,”
“Oh, thanks love,” he said pulling me against him. I smiled.
“No problem,” I yawned.
“Are you ready for bed?” he asked and I nodded.
“Oh yeah,” I answered moving away from him and getting off the bed. Paul sat back on the edge and pulled off his pants, staying in his boxers (yes, he’s moved away from the tightey whities—except on occasion he’ll wear them with his really tight pants). I slipped my clothes off and put on my nice and cool lingerie. India was one warm place!
“Come over here,” Paul grinned devilishly under the covers. I giggled and walked to the bed, going under the covers. Paul immediately leaned over on me and kissed me, “I’m glad I have you to put me in me place. Thanks again, Liv’”
“No problem. I knew if you were really listening to yourself you’d feel terrible,”
“You’re right,” he said kissing me again, “I feel terrible now,”
“Ah, I’m sure he understood,”
“I hope so,” Paul said making another face.
“This is kinda squishy,” I laughed. Each bungalow consisted of two twin beds, and Paul and I were squeezed in one. Paul laughed.
“Ah, we’re this close all the time anyway,”
“True,” I responded and kissed him again. We kissed and cuddled for a while before falling asleep.


“Hey, Paulie, Olivia,” I vaguely heard a voice say. I was laying almost directly atop Paul, so I buried my head in his chest to get away from the voice, “Hey, kids, get up. If you want to eat, you have to get up,”
“Ah, go away John,” Paul said pulling the covers up, so they were covering us more.
“Well, its 9:30 and breakfast ends at 11,” John responded pulling the covers back down. Why do people always have to do that when they are waking someone?! I shivered and Paul rolled me over lying on top of me, so his back was facing John and he was blocking me. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter if John saw me like this….he’s seen worse; however, I didn’t want it happening again. Paul and John have seen each other naked before, so seeing Paul in his boxers was no big deal.
“We’ll come out in a bit,” Paul protested pulling the covers up again and putting his arms around me and nuzzling against me.
“Fine, you’re fault if it’s all gone,” John finished and I heard the door. I sighed and stretched.
“Do you think the food is really going to be all gone?” I asked Paul. He breathed deep and opened his eyes, shrugging.
“I don’t know—you can never trust John,” he said yawning.
“Should we go then? We’re up anyway,” I said and he nodded rolling his eyes.
“I suppose,” he said and slowly we crawled out of bed, got dressed, and headed out to the breakfast area.
“Hey sleepy heads!” Pattie greeted as we walked in. Paul smiled and rubbed his eyes.
“Morning everyone,” he said, and I did a little wave to the group.
“Have a seat,” John said patting the seat next to him. Paul took my hand and led me over to the bench. We sat down and Paul made a face.
“Are we really supposed to eat this rubbish?” he asked and John laughed.
“It’s not that bad, really,” said a man, who looked somewhat familiar, sitting across from us. Paul smiled at him.
“How are you Mike?” he asked and the man, Mike, smiled.
“Good, yourself?”
“Great, thanks,” Paul said looking over the food.
“Hey, Paul,” Mike said and Paul looked back up at him.
“Yeah?”
“Are you going to introduce me, or--” he stopped and leaned his head in my direction.
“Oh yeah! Sorry, I think I’m still half asleep,” Paul laughed and I smiled.
“Olivia, this is Mike Love—from The Beach Boys,”
“Oh! I thought you looked familiar,” I said cheerfully and he laughed.
“Mike, this is me fiancée Olivia Newton,” Paul said.
“Hi there, nice to meet you Olivia,” Mike said shaking my hand. I smiled.
“You too,”
“Alright, what’s good around here?” Paul said looking, yet again, at all the food. I leaned over closer to him.
“Paul, I don’t even know what half this stuff is….” I whispered and he laughed taking my hand.
“Well, I know a few things…over there we have, porridge, puffed wheat and of course cornflakes,” he started and moved his gaze to a different part of the table, “and here, we have the drinks…the usual fruit juice, coffee, then there’s toast with jam or marmalade.” He finished and I shriveled my nose. He laughed, “I should’ve known you wouldn’t like anything,”
“I’ll just have to continue eating cornflakes,” I said rolling my eyes and he laughed again.
“Ah, you can’t get enough of cornflakes,” he said pouring some for me.
“Thanks hon,” I said and he nodded helping himself to cornflakes, toast, and juice. We had conversation over breakfast and afterwards we moved onto the next appointment for the day. Everyone began standing up.
“Where are we going now?” I whispered to Paul. He leaned down to me.
“Uh, I think we are going to go mediate,” he told me.
“Paul, I can’t mediate!” I protested and he laughed then leaned closer.
“Neither can I love!” he said with big eyes and smiling. I laughed. We followed the others into a fairly large room and Paul and I went off into a little corner.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked him sitting down. He cleared his throat.
“Well, first, you gotta sit like a pretzel,” he said and I giggled doing as he said, “Then you close your eyes and put your hands out like so,” he said holding his arms out to his sides and making little circles with his fingers, “Lastly you go, oooommmmm,” he said but stopped because he started laughing. I laughed along with him.
“You’re such a goof—that’s not what you do,”
“Ah, I know. I think all you do is just close your eyes and try to clear your mind,” he said shrugging.
“Hm, I’ll try,” I said and closed my eyes. It was quite hard to do actually…but for some reason when I pretended like I was going to sleep, I seemed to think less of things. Just when I thought I was getting the hang of it, I felt a little tickle on my leg. I didn’t think anything of it, and then I felt it again. I opened my one eye and saw nothing. Shrugging, I went back to ‘mediating’. Again, I felt the tickle and whipped my eyes open thinking it was a bug. But to my surprise, I saw Paul, with his eyes shut, caressing his fingers on my leg. I smiled and moved his hand. He opened his eyes.
“I don’t think you are clearing your mind,” I said softly as to not disrupt the others who were actually doing what they were supposed to be. Paul chuckled.
“Sure I am! I’m clearing it from everything but you,” he said and I laughed. He grinned and shut his eyes, me doing the same. Once again, I was almost there and the tickle on my leg was back. I couldn’t help myself and started laughing. I opened my eyes to find Paul, again, with his eyes closed touching my leg, this time with a stupid grin. I took his hand and he opened his eyes.
“Sorry love, I just can’t help it,” he said looking at me with sad eyes. I shook my head and smiled.
“How long do we have to be in here?” I asked looking around at all the quiet people with their eyes shut. Paul shrugged.
“I don’t think there is a time table. So, let’s go,” he said cocking his head in the direction of the door.
“Go where?”
“I don’t know; the ocean. Let’s go check out the scenery,” he whispered taking my hand and getting up. We tiptoed out of there and outside, “Ah, blast, I’m hungry,” Paul said touching his stomach.
“Why didn’t you eat more?”
“I dunno,” he answered putting his whole arm around me. I smiled and we walked almost in step down to the beach.
“This is really pretty here,” I said looking at the ocean meeting the horizon.
“Um hm,” Paul said leading me towards the water.
“What are you doing?”
“Come on, let’s go in a bit,” he said. We didn’t wear shoes at all, so it was easy just to walk in. Paul went in a made a face. I laughed.
“Bit cold, is it?”
“Nah, come in,” he said waving at me. I walked over to him, rolled up my pants, and stepped in.
“Ooo, yes it is cold!” I said hitting him lightly, and running back out. He laughed and ran over to me.
“The longer you stay in it love, the more you’ll get used to it,” he told me with raised eyebrows. I tilted my head in agreement.
“I suppose you’re right, but it’s just so cold!”
“Come on baby,” he said pulling me back in. I did eventually get used to it and we walked along the shore, hand in hand, just talking and Paul picking up little shells here and there. They rang a bell for lunch so Paul and I left the water and returned to shore. Lunch wasn’t much better than breakfast. This time they had a weird looking soup, followed by a vegetarian main dish, tomato and lettuce salads, turnips, carrots with rice, and potatoes on the side. John and George by this time had become vegetarians so this was normal for them. But as for me, Paul, Ringo, and Maureen—it wasn’t all that good. I just sat as Paul filled his plate.
“Aren’t you going to eat love?” he asked me. I shook my head.
“I don’t really care for anything here,” I said.
“Neither do I really, but you’ve got to eat something—we’re having a lecture after this and it’s going to be held out here--in the sun. You’ll get dehydrated since you don’t drink water and get dizzy from no food,” Paul told me. I shrugged.
“I’ve gone without eating before, I’ll be okay,” I said and Paul shook his head.
“That may have been okay then, but you’re with me now and I’m not going to let you starve yourself and make yourself sick,” he said and I had to smile. He grabbed a plate and put a few potatoes on it and got me some soup.
“You’re so sweet,” I said and he smiled.
“Thanks love, but it’s really nothing to do with sweetness,” he said still smiling, “I just really, really, care for you and don’t want you to be sick—especially if I can help it,” he said setting down my plate in front of me, “Hey Ring, can Olivia have one of your eggs?” Paul asked him. Mal had brought down eggs for Ringo as well as the beans. Ringo nodded.
“Of course, have more than one,” he offered. Paul smiled.
“Thanks, but I only need one,” I said and Ringo handed me a plate with a boiled egg on it.
“Now eat that,” Paul ordered me.
“Yes sir,” I said and again we all ate and had conversation. Paul was right, and sitting outside in the beating sun, for three hours was indeed hot. Continuously throughout, Paul would look over at me and smile, or take my hand and look down at it while caressing it, or just plain stare off into space. I wondered why he had to come if he really didn’t want to be here; something to do with the other Beatles I’m sure. Afterwards, we all went back to our bungalows and Paul whipped out the ‘ol guitar. There was a bunch of jewelry that the Indian ladies made, and as a gift to us girls, we each got a little basket of stuff. I was laying on the right side of the bed, while Paul with his guitar, sat on the left. That way the neck wouldn’t hit my face. He strummed and hummed a few things over and over again, trying to make something of it. He wrote a lot on pieces of paper, but I was to into the jewelry to really pay attention—that is until he started singing aloud. I smiled listening to him sing, but then looked up at him once I heard the lyrics.

Who knows how long I’ve loved you,
You know I love you still,
Will I wait a lonely life time?
If you want me to
I will.

For if I ever saw you,
I didn’t catch you’re name,
But it never really mattered,
I will always feel the same.

Love you forever, and forever
Love you with all my heart
Love you whenever, we’re together
Love you when we’re apart

And when at last I find you,
You’re song will fill the air
Sing it loud so I can hear you,
Make it easy to be near you,
For the things you do,
Endear you to me, ah,
You know I will.
I will.

Paul finished and I smiled, sitting up.
“Wow, did you just write that now?” I asked him amazed he could write such a beautiful song in such little time. He nodded.
“Yeah, but when I think of you, songs just come so easily, you know? There’s just so much I think of when I think of you; feelings, dreams, what I see…” he said setting down the guitar.
“So that was about me?” I asked he laughed pulling me to him.
“Of course, a lot of my songs are now,” he said kissing my forehead. I smiled.
“You are so romantic you know that?” I said and he laughed.
“Nah, its only cuz I’m a songwriter. If I weren’t, you wouldn’t see as romantic, you know, cuz I wouldn’t have all theses songs,” I looked up at him.
“That’s not true, you’re very romantic without your songs, they just add a lot,” I said leaning back on his shoulder. He ran his finger up and down my arm and we just sat in silence.
“I think we’ll head off early, if that’s alright with you,” Paul said suddenly. I looked up at him.
“Like when?”
“I don’t know, end of March. The others are staying till April sometime, but I don’t think I can do that much,” he said.
“Oh, that’s fine with me. I’m only doing this cuz you wanted to--to be honest,” I said. He smiled.
“I know you are, and thanks,” he said, “You’ve done so much for me--I feel like I do nothing for you,”
“Oh my gosh Paul, don’t say such a stupid thing! You do a lot for me,” I said and he half smiled.
“Not really—yeah I’m romantic and all, but, you moved 3,000 miles for me, quit your job for me, and you said yourself you don’t have many friends here, so really you chose me over your friends. You put up with me bad moods and when I’m on stuff---and hell, I can’t even quit smoking,” he finished shaking his head, “How horrible is that?”
“Why are you doing this to yourself? Smoking is a hard addiction, I know that. Especially when you’ve been doing it for 13 years, like you have. And I know that you’ve come a long way compared to the way you were before we met. You were a walking ashtray then,” I said and he laughed.
“I know, Brittany told me,” I smiled thinking of that, then frowned remembering she said ‘he was the only ashtray she’d every kiss’.
“But seriously, you don’t smoke pot half as much as you used to. You quit acid, and your not bad with cigarettes either,” I said rubbing his hand gently. He shrugged.
“I guess as long as you see a difference, that’s all that matters. I just wish I could do more for you,”
“You’ve done more than enough Paul, stop putting yourself down,”
“I will quit, you know that. I am trying,”
“I know, that’s what I just said silly,” he laughed.
“I suppose, but I mean--I will for good--one of these days. It’s just going to be a slow process,”
“I’m fine with that,” I said kissing him. We cuddled down into bed and went to sleep. The next month was pretty much the same routine. The ‘wonderful’ breakfasts, then meditation in which Paul would screw around, except for a few rare times where we actually did it, then the ‘wonderful’ lunch, the lecture, more meditation if we wanted, then bedtime. Everyday, it was the same. Paul wrote quite a number of songs here, as well as the other Beatles, and towards the end John started to get VERY scruffy. Thankfully, Paul kept his hair and beard trimmed (although he did have a little whisker beard forming for a while, but nothing like John’s). Ringo and Maureen hated being away from their children, and I don’t blame them, and Ringo couldn’t stand it here anymore because of the food, so they left after only 2 weeks. Paul and I ended up leaving March 26, being there a total of a month and half. Yes, it was VERY LONG. John, George, and their wives stayed till April 8th, coming back abruptly because of some rumors being spread about the Maharishi using his position for sexual favors from the female mediators. A few months after we got back, some very unexpected things happened, and lucky for me, I came down with the flu or something.

Paul was coming home from the studio one nice day the beginning of May, and he looked upset, so naturally I approached him with quandary.
“Hey, bad day?” I asked as he entered the living room. He shrugged.
“Uh, just confused that’s all,”
“About what?” I asked curious. He sat beside me.
“Guess who John brought to the studio today,” Paul said looking at me with a strange face.
“Uh, Julian?” I guessed and Paul smiled, but shook his head.
“No,”
“Who?”
“I’ll give you a hint,” he started, “She’s Japanese and is VERY annoying,”
“Yoko?!” I asked surprised, “He brought Yoko to the studio?”
“Yeah, apparently, a couple nights ago--this is what he told me—he called Yoko over so they could talk. I guess, he’s been having troubles deciding what to do as far as him and Cyn and Yoko,” Paul said making a face.
“What!? No, this can’t be….poor Cyn—I mean, John hated Yoko. He told us so!” I said not believing my ears. Paul nodded.
“I could hardly believe it either. But he told me they talked, ended up making some record called ‘Two Virgins’ then made love. John said it was the most romantic thing he’s ever experienced and that’s he so in love with Yoko,” I continued to shake my head. I had gotten pretty close to Cynthia in the last few years, and I couldn’t believe John was doing this to her.
“He slept with her??”
“Yeah, that’s not the worst though,” Paul started, “I guess the next morning John let Yoko wear Cyn’s bathrobe to breakfast…Cyn came home to find them together—Yoko in her robe, in her and John’s kitchen,” I put my hand up to my mouth and wanted to cry for Cyn, but didn’t.
“Oh my gosh, what did you tell him?”
“I didn’t know what to say. I asked him if he thought what he was doing was right, and he seems so sure of it,” Paul said confused, “…he said he was never unhappy with Cyn, but it was just the routine marriage, not real love, you know, like he has all of a sudden gotten over night for Yoko,” Paul rolled his eyes and shook his head, “I just don’t understand how he went from hating the bird to loving her and then cheating on Cyn with her,”
“Me neither,” I said, “I mean, I knew he cheated on her--but with Yoko? Like you said, I thought he hated her,”
“I know,”
“What did Cyn do, did he say?”
“Yeah, he said she tried to act calm and right there, in front of both of them, asked if John wanted to work this out and go on vacation. I guess John said no thanks, completely crushing and embarrassing Cyn,”
“Oh no,” I said sadly.
“Yeah, she cried, grabbed Julian and some stuff, and then ran out of the house,” Paul sighed, “John hasn’t seen her since, but he doesn’t seem to care. Him and Yoko act like they’ve been in love forever,” Paul said shaking his head, “You should’ve seen her today. She had a chair set up right next to John, and he even gave her a bloody microphone! She wanted to sing with us, and in the middle of songs, she’d start talking saying something in her screechy little voice. Mostly along the lines of, “Paul, I think you should do it this way’ or ‘Paul, I think John’s right about this’,” he said imitating her, “all that shit. I was getting right mad, I was,”
“Yikes,” I said making a face and Paul nodded resting his head on the back of the couch.
“I know, we had bloody pact—no other people in the studio. Even George Martin barely comes out of the recording section of it, down to us; only when we ask him does he. But here John is bringing this scary little creature in, whom he barely knows but is so in love with—and yet, George, Ring and me self, weren’t allowed to bring you girls—in which we’ve known for over three years!” he said getting angry.
“I’m so sorry Paul,” I said sympathetically. Ever since they stopped touring, Paul’s seemed to be so stressed and have a lot on his mind; I wished I could do something.
“I wish Brian were still here,” he said breathing out deep. I took his hand and leaned against him.
“I know you do, but you are doing great. If it weren’t for you trying to keep everyone together-”
“-we probably would no longer be a band,” Paul finished, although that wasn’t what I was going to say. I just looked at him part of me agreeing and part of me not, “That’s what scares me,” he said lifting his head up, “If I weren’t trying so damn hard, maybe they’d all be where they really want to be--you know, George in India, John with Yoko, and Ringo doing films. Maybe they really don’t want to be in the group anymore,”
“Paul, don’t tell yourself that. You don’t know for sure. I’m sure if they wanted out they would be out. Especially John; he’s not afraid to let you know what he wants and feels,”
“You do have a point there,” he said sighing, “It’s just getting so bloody hard. Maybe we should start touring again…” I shrugged.
“You could bring up the idea,”
“Ha, they’ll shoot it right down—I know that for a fact,” he said then turned his head to me, “How are you feeling today love? I forgot to ask you,”
“Uh, I don’t know. It comes and goes,” I said not really sure of what it was. It had been going on for a couple weeks now. Maybe I picked something up in India.
“Did you actually get sick today like before?” he asked.
“Yeah, this morning,” I answered and he made a face, holding my hand tighter.
“I’m sorry love, I wish I knew what was wrong,” he told me, “Maybe you should see a doctor. They could give you some pills or something,”
“Yeah I thought that too, so I’m going in tomorrow at 1pm,”
“Oh good,” he said smiling and kissing me. We had dinner and watched a movie before going to bed.
Paul was back in the studio the next day and I got ready for my doctors appointment. I always hated going to doctors because although your appointment was at so and so, you’d always have to wait another half hour or longer. I just sat in the lobby looking at a magazine, feeling pretty much normal.
“Olivia Newton?” I heard the nurse call. I looked up and smiled setting down the magazine, “Alright, follow me,”
“Okay,” I said following her.
“How are you today?” she asked.
“Pretty good actually, yourself?”
“Good, thanks,” she responded with a smile and opened the door for me, “You can just sit right in here, and we’ll get started,”
“Alright, good,” I said sitting down on the cold table. She did the normal routine of checking my breathing, throat, eyes, and ears. She wrote some stuff down and looked at me confused.
“Hm, well you seem healthy Olivia,” she said.
“Really?” I asked surprised.
“Um hm, now, what did you say your symptoms were?”
“Well they go in spurts, one moment I’ll be fine then the next I’ll be getting hot and cold flashes, throwing up, or getting dizzy,” she nodded as I spoke, “It’s like the flu, except it goes away at times,”
“Well, we’ll try one more thing and if this isn’t it, then I don’t know what to tell you,” she said pulling out a little unfamiliar instrument. I looked at her confused as she headed for my stomach, “I saw here you are on birth control, is that right?” she asked, moving the tool around, and my heart stopped. Was she checking for what I thought she was checking?? If I was, I would’ve known, wouldn’t I have?
“Uh, yeah, that’s right,” I answered slowly. She pulled away from me and put the instrument away.
“Well, a lot of times with birth control woman don’t realize it because they don’t get their periods anyway with the pill, but-” I began shaking my head.
“Are you saying that I’m—pregnant?” I barely got out. The nurse smiled.
“I’m afraid I am,” she said and I almost died. What was I going to tell Paul? He was stressed enough, “You’re about 2 months along,”
“Two months?!” I asked surprised.
“That’s right. It’s around two months that you start experiencing Morning Sickness, which is exactly what you’ve been having. Signs of being pregnant as far as size, usually don’t hit until around four or five months. It all depends on how big you were before,” I swallowed and just sat speechless. Two months ago….that would have been sometime in India. So yeah, I did pick something up in India—a baby, “Are you alright?” she asked me. I looked up at her and nodded slowly.
“Um, yeah, I just,” I started scratching my forehead. As much as I wasn’t really ready, the thought of having Paul’s baby was making me happy, but on the other hand, I was scared and unsure. What was I going to tell my parents? I wasn’t even married yet…
“I’m guessing this wasn’t planned,” she said softly. I shook my head.
“No, it wasn’t,”
“Well, I’ll let you go home and relax a bit, but I will need to set up another appointment for a month from now, so we can check up on you,” she started, then paused, “Unless of course, you’re not going to keep it,” I looked at her quickly, shocked she would even suggest such a thing.
“Of course I’m going to!” I said in defense.
“I’m just making sure; it’s our job to ask,”
“I know, I didn’t mean to snap, I just--I don’t know how I’m going to tell him, you know?” She smiled.
“I know this is probably an awkward question, but, this is Paul McCartney’s baby isn’t it?” she asked and I looked up at her with hesitant eyes. She smiled softly, “Don’t worry, we actually helped Cynthia, John’s wife, along,” I smiled and breathed out calmly.
“Yeah, it’s Paul’s,” I said.
“Well, I have nothing against any of the Beatles, but between you and me, I think Paul will be much more accepting to the fact that your having his baby than John was with Cynthia…he’s great with children,” she said and I had to smile.
“Yeah, he really is,” I said. She gave me a little slip of paper.
“This is when you’ll need to stop in again, until then; don’t be too hard on yourself, there’s two of you now you must remember,” I smiled weakly—that sounded weird.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You’re welcome,” she said, “Good luck,” I smiled and slowly left the building. I had music on as I drove there, but on the way back I had to shut it off, so I could think. Although I was happy and I wanted to have kids with Paul; now was not exactly what I was wanting. Mostly I was worried about what Paul was going to say once I told him the news. He was still pretty heavily involved with The Beatles, and he doesn’t need to be more stressed, knowing he’s going to be a dad. Also, I didn’t want it to end up like John’s situation in where Paul will never be home with….our baby. After what seemed like years, I finally made it home and found Paul’s car in the drive. Slowly again, I walked up to the house and took a deep breath before walking in. Martha greeted me at the door.
“Hey Martha,” I said, and Paul walked in the entry way.
“Hello love,” he said walking over and kissing me. I smiled.
“Hey, you’re home early,” I said and he nodded as we walked to the living room and sat on the couch.
“Yeah, not much to do today,” he told me, “So, how was the doctors? Did they make my baby all better?” he asked smiling and putting his arm around me. I let out a little laugh.
“It’s funny you should phrase it like that,” I said and he looked at me confused.
“Why?” he asked and it seemed so easy just to tell him before, but now that I was here in the moment I didn’t know what to do. I knew Paul, and I knew it wouldn’t be bad, but I had that fear in the back of my mind that he’d leave me once he found out I was pregnant or he’d be mad at me or something. Naturally, I started crying. Paul came closer to me concerned and still confused.
“Love what’s wrong?” he asked. I sniffed and tried to calm myself.
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m healthy,” I told him and he smiled accompanied by a little laugh.
“Well, isn’t that a good thing?”
“Yeah,”
“So why all the tears?” he asked lifting my chin to look at him. I just stared into his eyes and I swear he read my mind, because his smile faded away slowly, “Olivia? What happened today?”
“I, I,” I paused.
“You what? Love, you’re scaring me,” he said squeezing my hand. I took a deep breath.
“I’m pregnant Paul,” I finally said, more tears streaming down my face. Paul pulled back a little and was obviously shocked.
“You’re pregnant?” he repeated and I nodded.
“Yeah, two months,” I told him, “I was experiencing morning sickness, I guess,”
“That makes sense,” he said quietly.
“Paul, I’m so sorry!” I cried onto his shoulder. He pulled me back and looked at me confused.
“Sorry? For what--being pregnant?” he asked, and then let out a little laugh, “It’s not your fault love, it took both of us,”
“I know, but-” I started rubbing my eyes, “I just, I don’t want you to be mad at me because you aren’t-”
“Mad?” Paul burst out laughing, “What on earth would I be mad?”
“Because you’re stressed enough with your career and you don’t need the stress of being a dad right now. A lot of boyfriends leave their girlfriends when they’re pregnant cuz they don’t want kids,”
“Love, love, love,” Paul said shaking his head and hugging me close, “First off, you aren’t just me girlfriend, your me fiancée. Secondly, I’m not other guys. I love you more than anything in the world, and there’s no way I could be mad at you for this,”
“Really?” I asked sniffing. He laughed again and wiped my tears away.
“Yes, really. Look, I know we wanted to have kids someday, and yeah, now really wasn’t what we were shooting for, but don’t think about that. It happened---darling this is wonderful,”
“You really think so?” I asked surprised at how well he was taking this. He smiled.
“Yeah! Love, we created a baby together—a new life form. I’m going to be a dad, and you a mum, of this perfect little being we made,” He said touching my stomach lightly, then looking back up at me, “I’d say that’s pretty amazing and wonderful, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, of course, I just wasn’t sure about what you’d think. Honestly, part of me was happy when I heard I was pregnant,”
“So be happy!,” he laughed, “I know I am,” he said kissing me and holding my chin again. I smiled.
“But what about The Beatles? The baby’s going to inflict on you and-,” I said and Paul shook his head.
“No it won’t, if anything, The Beatles will inflict on us and the baby—but I won’t that happen. The baby is a good thing love; it’s not going to ruin anything. Plus, Ringo spends tons of time with his kids, it’s only John who doesn’t. I’m never going to be a dad who doesn’t spend time with his wife and kids. I want to have a close family,”
“Speaking of that, what are we going to do about getting married?” I asked, “I don’t know if I want to get married after having a baby,” Paul nodded.
“I agree,” he said, “Well, we’ve been engaged for 6 months now, and we were starting to talk about what we wanted. We’ll just put on plans on double time and get married within the next couple months, before you start showing---everything will be fine,” he said. I snuggled close to him and rested my head on his chest. He kissed my forehead and stroked my back.
“I love you so much Paul,” I said looking up at him. He kissed my lips this time.
“You have no idea how much I love you,” he said sweeping the hair away from my face.

Onto Chapter 34