Chapter 50

The next morning went rather quick as Paul and I said our farewells to everybody.
“Thanks again for coming you guys,” Brittany smiled giving me a hug. I laughed.
“No, thanks for inviting us, and have fun in Hawaii,” I winked and passed around hugs to everyone else just as Paul and my taxi pulled up.
“Ready to go love?” Paul asked with a sensitive smile—he knew still after all these years there was still a deep connection with me and this city—as well as my friends. I smiled back and touched Mary’s head in his arms.
“I’m ready,” I nodded. We waved goodbye to everyone and walked out the door heading to our taxi.
“Wait!” Paul had handed Mary off to me so he could put the luggage in the trunk. He looked up with a frown and I turned my head to see Davy running out to me.
“Davy what are you doing?” I asked.
“Can we ride with you to the airport? Apparently there’s been a mistake in our time and it was earlier than we had originally planned,” I looked back to Paul questioning him with my eyes. He smiled the McCartney smile,
“Sure you can come with Davy,” he said with all the charm he used on his fans. I smiled inside and walked towards the taxi as Davy went in to get Linda and the baby. They arrived out a few minutes later and Paul helped Davy with the luggage as me and Linda got in the taxi.
“Are you ready to go home?” she asked me. I turned from my gaze out the window and smiled.
“Yeah, I suppose. It’s always nice to get away, but it’s nice to be in the comforts of your own home as well,” she nodded in agreement. We sat in silence and soon Davy was seated on the other side of me, Paul grabbing the front. We drove in silence to the airport and split up there as Davy and Linda were on a commercial flight whereas Paul and I had our own. We said goodbye once more and Paul and I had a nice flight home.

Martha greeted us happily as we entered the door. Paul smiled and petted her anxiously running with her to the back door.
“Did you two have a good time?” I turned to see Mrs. Mills, our housekeeper, standing in the living room gathering her things.
“Yes, very much thanks. How was everything here?” I asked.
“Good as always,” she smiled and walked over to me. She looked back at Paul who was returning from the back door.
“’Ello Mrs. Mills,” he smiled.
“Hello Mr. McCartney,” she responded and he laughed placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Dear Millie, how many times have I said you can just call me Paul?” Mrs. Mills laughed.
“Not enough for it to stick in apparently,” Paul smiled and Mrs. Mills left for the day. I walked over and set Mary in her crib and she soon fell fast asleep. I plopped down on the couch and realized how quiet it was now. Paul sat next to me, a hand on my knee. I grinned at him and he only laughed.
“Don’t worry love, I’m not suggesting anything—I’m only touchin’ yeh,” I laughed, “Unless of course you want to…” he wiggled his eyebrows at me.
“I’m jet lagged, maybe tomorrow,” I responded and he squinched his nose, finished with a laugh. I kissed him quickly and the phone rang. Paul raised his eyebrows.
“Cor, we just got back. Who could be ringing us now?” he said getting up and walking over to the table and picking up the phone. “’Ello?...Oh hey Lennon, how’s it going?...Oh fine, we had a bash. It was great seeing ‘em all—they say hi by the way…Yeah…uh huh…what?” I turned on the couch to watch him and his face held a frown, “I just got home John….I don’t care, I’m jet lagged….no, I don’t care, I’m not coming in to work today….Well, if Yoko says so…” Paul laughed sarcastically, “Fook that John, you know I don’t bloody care what Yoko wants—don’t see why she wants me there anyhow…I mean, hell, she’s so talented anyway, she can play the bass in me place….I did write a song, but that doesn’t mean I want to work on it today….have you even talked to the others?....oh….they are….well….” he paused and looked over to me and I knew he wanted my approval to go—either that or for me to say he couldn’t so he had an excuse. I just stared back at him.
“Do whatever you want,” I said shrugging. He looked sadly at me speaking back into the phone.
“Are you sure it needs to be done today…can’t it wait till tomorrow...I suppose then….whoa whoa, what did you just say...Yoko doesn’t want me to bring Olivia?” I looked up at him from the floor and once again he had a frown on his face, “To hell with that John!...I don’t bloody care if she doesn’t like her, I’m not a fan of her nor is anyone else--who said I was going to bring her anyway? Unlike some, I remember the pact we made—no girls or friends in the studio…what the hell do you mean I don’t understand what love is?” Paul laughed sarcastically to himself, “I know more about love than you ever will! I just know how to separate me personal life with me work life….it means you don’t see me dragging Olivia everywhere I go having her say anything she wants to anybody….I’m a selfish controlling prick?! Where do you come off saying this shit, seriously? It’s like Yoko has brainwashed you or something. She can say any damn thing she pleases about us and our wives, but I can’t make one bloody comment about her?....oh I see, just not to you? I suppose that’s true, considering how nice you’ve been to Olivia lately….” I watched Paul’s face and I could see the anger building up and I sighed. It never stopped. We weren’t even home 15 minutes and he and John were already head butting. I just continued to listen, “You know what John, I’m not listening to this shit any more--I’ll come to the damn studio and finish your fookin’ song—but don’t say anything to me unless it has to do with music….because if you do, you’re only going to make want to kick your ass more than I do now….ah, sod off you fooker…” Paul finished and slammed the phone down. He crossed he arms on his chest and stared. I got up from the couch and walked over to him. I stood behind him and resting my chin on his shoulder looking up at his face—water forming in his eyes.
“Are you okay?” I asked him. He blinked and swallowed.
“I need a cigarette,” he said pulling away from me and walking into the other room. I looked over at Mary and breathed deep. This was such a hard time for Paul and there was nothing I could do—and I hated that. Paul returned, ciggie in mouth, and he seemed to be a bit more composed, “Do you think we could call Aunt Jin?” he asked. I looked confused.
“For what?” I asked.
“To watch Mary for a bit,”
“What’s wrong with me? After all I am her mother….” Surprisingly Paul smiled and even laughed a bit.
“Are you now?” he asked walking to me and blowing his smoke up in the air. I shook my head.
“I suppose it could be some other blonde bimbo you slept with….” I replied and he rolled his eyes.
“You’re the only ‘blonde bimbo’ if you will, that I’ve slept with in the last 5 ½ years….” He said kissing me. He mouth tasted of fresh cigarette, but the quality of his kiss prevailed. I smiled.
“I know, but seriously, what do you need her to watch Mary for?” I asked.
“Because I want to you to come to the studio with me,” he replied and I just looked at him dumbfounded.
“Are you serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked putting out his ciggie and picking up the phone. Without me agreeing to his plan he talked to Aunt Jin and she was happy to take Mary for a few hours. I just continued to stare at him, “We’ll just drop her off on the way,” he said and then smiled, “Why do you keep staring at me like that?”
“I heard you and John’s conversation—they don’t want me there,”
“No, Yoko doesn’t want you there—but I don’t give a damn about her,” he scuffed.
“John doesn’t want me there either Paul, you know that,”
“Yeah, that’s true….anything Yoko wants Johnny boy wants it too,” Paul rolled his eyes, “But I don’t care what either of them want—besides maybe it’ll just piss ‘em off even more,” I backed up a bit.
“What? That’s why you want me to come? You want to get even with John?” I glared at him, “Paul I’m not going to get in the middle of you two—it’s bad enough the way it is,”
“That’s not why I want you to come,” Paul said walking towards me a bit.
“Yes it is Paul, I know you. You want to bring me because he specifically told you not to,” Paul sighed.
“Alright, alright. That may be part of it, but it’s not the majority—you know I like to have to with me as much as I can and well, if he’s going to break the pact then I will too, you know. I’ve already brought you in there anyway,”
“Yeah, and the first time I got shoved into your guitar and amp because you and John were fist fighting and the second time John called me a slut and a snotty bitch who thought I was the queen of the world,” I said wincing from the memory. Paul just stared.
“I know he did love,” he said looking sympathetic, “Look, that’s not going to happen again…we aren’t going to talk about anything but music. Besides, love I need you there,” he said putting his arms around me.
“Why?”
“Because, if you aren’t there I’ll fall apart—either emotionally or physically. If you are there it’s going to keep me focused on what we have to do, instead of my wanting to kill John,” I just looked at him.
“Alright, I’ll go,” I gave in.
“Yeah?” he asked again and I nodded.
“Yes, if you have to go through it, I want to go through it with you,” Paul leaned in and gave me a deep kiss.
“I love you—you know that don’t you?” he asked and I smiled running my hand through his hair.
“Of course I do,” I kissed him once more, “And I just happen to love you too,” he smiled and we got in the car, dropped Mary off, and drove to Abbey Road. We stood outside the door to their room. Paul looked at me.
“Everything alright?” he asked. I nodded.
“I’m just nervous, that’s all,” I said. He kissed my head and squeezed my hand.
“Don’t be, it’ll be fine,” he said and opened the door. Everyone looked up and John and Yoko’s stares were as cold as ice. Paul smiled.
“Hey mates,” he said. George and Ringo replied with happy greetings to Paul and me, “Sorry I’m late—had to drop Mary off,” Paul smiled grabbing his bass.
“Don’t worry about it, we understand,” George said and I suddenly noticed Yoko was lying on a bed next to John—a microphone set up right by her mouth.
“So where are we at then?” Paul asked ignoring John and the hard-to-miss Yoko.
“We were working on ‘Polythene Pam’” John said staring at me. Paul nodded.
“I was thinking, depending on the speed we chose to go with for ‘Pam’ me new song might work well to come in as a continuous track,”
“Sing it for us then,” John said. Paul agreed and played his new song for the others. I just sat on the couch a bit away from them and watched—feeling completely awkward. They conversed with each other and agreed they liked the idea. Things seemed to be going well until….
“John has something to say,” Yoko suddenly spoke up. We were all intent on her. Paul looked around.
“To whom?”
“You,” she said then looked at John. He stared at Paul for a moment.
“I think we should redo ‘Oh! Darling’,” he said. Paul frowned.
“And why is that?”
“Well, I know you wrote it a while back, but as we are putting it on this album, I thought it needed a few touch ups,” John responded.
“What kind of touch ups? I think it sounds great,”
“I think I could pull off better vocals,” John blurted. Paul huffed out a laugh.
“Better vocals? And why is that?” he asked and my heart raced fearing a fight.
“Because you don’t seem to have that screaming raspy voice like John,” Yoko put in. Paul pursed his lips trying to contain himself.
“Thanks Yoko, but I asked John the question,” he turned back to John, “Is that what you honestly think too? That I don’t quite have the raspy screaming voice?” John nodded.
“Yeah I do,” he said and Paul began laughing. George and Ringo looked just as confused as me.
“You don’t think I have that type of voice aye?” Paul said shaking his head, “What the hell is wrong with you Lennon?”
“What do you mean?” John asked firmly.
“I know it may be hard for you, but I want you to remember way back to when we first met—back when you didn’t have other’s affecting your decisions,” Paul said discretely though everyone knew he was talking about Yoko and it only hardened John’s face, “I want you to remember that one of the reasons you wanted me in this band…for one, I knew guitar pretty well as well as all the words and two, because I could sound like Elvis and Little Richard,” he finished and John just stared at him.
“What’s your point McCartney?”
“What’s my point?! You bloody wanted me in this band because I could scream! And now you are telling me I can’t? You’re full of shit Lennon,” Paul said shaking his head, “Besides what makes you think I want you singing that song anyway,”
“Why not?” John asked tense.
“Maybe you don’t know the whole story behind the song,” Paul said and now I was growing tense. I knew memories were filling Paul’s head—memories that only got him worked up and pissed off.
“I know you wrote it for Olivia,” John said, “She’s all you ever write about now—it’s like you have no more bloody inspiration,” Paul stared.
“Yeah, well you don’t have a bloody mind of your own anymore do ya?” Paul said and John stared, “But, I’m going to ignore that comment for now, and fill you in on the story behind ‘Oh! Darling’,”
“Paul, are you sure you want to do this?” I asked suddenly. He turned to look at me.
“Oh yes, love, I want to do this,” he said turning back to John, “You are going to have to remember again John,” Paul started, “It was back when Olivia and I were in that room and one day she decided that she didn’t love me anymore and didn’t want to be with me,”
“I can see why,” John snapped. Paul ignored him.
“Totally confused I asked her why—are you remembering any of this John?” Paul asked and John just stared at him back obviously remembering. Paul nodded and smiled, “Yeah, I thought so. Anyway, so she tells me that she loves you!” Paul laughed and George and Ringo just stared at each other, “I was so confused because as far as I knew, she hadn’t even seen you for months, but lo and behold to my surprise--she had. Oh yes, she had seen you. And not only was it just a nice little visit but it was a little, oh what shall we say, groping session,” Paul’s eyes looked fierce, “In which you decided to take advantage of her situation and well, I guess you could say, in a sense, you kind of raped her,”
“I didn’t bloody rape her,” John said in clenched teeth, “She was responding,”
“Oh, she was bloody responding!? As if she knew what the hell she was doing! She could’ve been drugged as far as anyone else knew!” Paul yelled, “You fookin’ knew she was not herself but yet you decided to go ahead and put your horny ass body on top of her and feel her up! You! My supposed best friend!” Paul yelled again, “That’s why I wrote the bloody song John! Because of your bloody hormones she said she didn’t want me and broke my heart into a million pieces! Because of you!” I wanted to say something so badly but I knew it wouldn’t matter. John stood up furious.
“I fookin’ said I was sorry! Don’t you think I think about it all the time!?” John snapped. Paul scuffed again.
“Because you liked it,” Paul responded and this time John scuffed.
“You know what Macca?” he asked and Paul just stared at him, “I did like it,” My mouth fell open as did Paul’s, “I thought ‘Hell, this hot American girl is putting herself at me why not get some from her?’ After all, Davy had some, George had some, you had some…and you all said she’s good—so I thought I wanted a taste for me self—and a taste I got. She’s living proof that most American girls are sluts,” John said smirking. I couldn’t believe him.
“You fookin’ bastard!” Paul yelled shoving John. John was quick to retaliate by punching Paul right in the left eye. I squinted and jumped up from the couch.
“You guys stop it!” I yelled at them. George and Ringo were already on their feet trying to break the two up. Yoko on the other hand to me anyway, seemed to be enjoying it as if she’d been planning this for months. George held Paul as John was held by Ringo. The two of them breathing heavy just stared at each other. I walked over to them, “You know, you both keep asking each other what is wrong, but I think the right question is what the hell is wrong with both of you?!” I said and they each gave me surprised glances, “Look at you! John’s bleeding from the nose and Paul; you’re forming a black eye!”
“Olivia’s right, what the hell is wrong with you guys?” George asked, “You need to find the peace within—that’s the only way,”
“Don’t give your Hare Krishna shit George,” Paul snapped. George glared at him.
“Well it’s true, if you weren’t such a prick sometimes, you might be able to find some inner peace instead of taking it out on everyone around you,” George snapped back.
“You know George,” Paul started and I couldn’t take it.
“STOP IT!! STOP IT ALL OF YOU!” I yelled and I think I scared the crap out of all of them, “I mean it, I’m so, ugh, so sick of this! You-you fighting all the bloody time! Gosh I feel like your mother!” I yelled grabbing my head with my hands, “You keep talking about remembering the past—but I think you’ve all forgotten everything! Let me tell you way back in 1964 when you all first came to America I was so head over heels for you—all of you,” I said and they all smiled slightly, “You guys looked so fun, nice, and most of all you were the best of friends. I was never sure if that was the way you really were, or if it was just the way you were portrayed by the media and the way you acted in interviews, but then as you all remember I got to meet you. And everything I had thought about you was true, if not better than I had imagined. I remember sitting there with you guys in your hotel room and to me you were four brothers—you all stood out for each other, joked with each other, and I could just feel that you each cared for each other more than anything,” I said and they all just continued to look at me, “But now?” I laughed and shook my head, “I feel like I don’t know any of you. You’re constantly saying things to hurt each other, you never joke anymore, you could care less if something happens to another—you’re always finding a way to fight. And you wanna know something?” I asked.
“What?” John asked quietly.
“Honestly? If this is the way you back then,” I paused, “I wouldn’t have ever wanted to see any of you again—even you,” I said and looked Paul straight in the eyes and I could tell he was taken aback maybe even a bit hurt, “But fortunately this isn’t the way you were back then—I got to know the real John, Paul, George, and Ringo. The ones that put shaving cream all over Paul’s face while he was sleeping—the ones who took pictures of George naked with only a sheet covering himself—the ones who were scared to death when they thought George was kidnapped and Paul had turned into a gangster—and the ones that went against Brian’s rules and threw a surprise birthday party for me making a complete mess of the hotel room,” I said and amazingly the four of them were smiling, “Seriously guys, what is going on here? You can’t possibly hate each other! After all that you’ve been through? After all that you’ve done for each other? It’s bad enough that I get to see you all turn on each other—but what about your fans? What if they see what you guys are really like now? Do you think they are still going to like you? What about Brian? I can just see him yelling up a storm at you guys ‘Lennon stop acting like an ass and McCartney behave yourself! You’re professionals!’” I said and I got a few laughs, “I don’t know what else to tell you guys, but this has got to stop. You can’t keep fighting like this, it’s not good for each of you and it’s not good for me or Yoko,” (though like I said I honestly thought she enjoyed it).
“You’re right,” Paul said nodding, “We can’t keep acting like this mates—because that’s what we are—mates. She’s right, if anyone were to see us like this; they’d hate us—think we were jack asses. Hell, I hate us! I’m surprised you’re still here,” Paul said looking at me. I smiled and grabbed his hand.
“I still love you all what can I say?”
“I’d hate to have to admit this,” John began, “But I agree with you both,” he said and George and Ringo nodded their heads, “I think we’re all turning against each other for whatever reason, but….Paul, can I have a word with yeh?” Paul looked around.
“Sure John,” he said and they went off to a corner. I watched them for a minute or two and turned back to George and Ringo.
“You were like our mum,” George laughed. I smiled.
“Well they aren’t here to put you in line,”
“That’s true, and you really are a mum now anyway,” Ringo smiled, “Thanks a lot. If you hadn’t been here to shout at us, we probably would’ve killed each other.” I smiled again and John and Paul returned with somber faces—especially Paul. I didn’t know what was going on but didn’t do anything about it. I went back to my spot on the couch and the boys went back to recording—dropping the whole bit about ‘Oh! Darling’. Yoko still put in her two sense every once and a while, but the others, as hard as it was, tried to talk with her reasonably. We were there a few hours and they got quite a bit done. Paul and I left saying goodbye to everyone and went to pick up Mary from Aunt Jin’s. Paul didn’t speak a word except for a thank you and a kiss. We got Mary and headed home for bed. We laid in silence, Paul’s arm around me, and I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Paul what’s wrong?” I asked him, “Ever since you and John talked you’ve been really quiet,”
“It’s all over,” he said quietly and his voice seemed a bit choked up.
“Paul, don’t say that—it’ll get better now that you’ve all realized how you’ve been acting. You all admitted it yourselves back there,”
“I know we did, but, I’m not just guessing this time love—it’s really over. There’s no way around it. You’re right, and we know it too--we’re going to end up killing each other, but it’s because we’ve been around each other almost every minute of everyday for the last 10 years. We’ve come full circle love, and the only way to save ourselves from each other and breaking the last of any bond we have left—is to get out of it before that happens,”
“Paul--” I began trying to get him out of this thought process. Every time he had thoughts like this in the past, he was always wrong.
“John said it Olivia. He said it flat out. That’s what he wanted to say to me—‘ I want a divorce’ were his exact words,” Paul said and I couldn’t quite fathom what he was saying.
“A divorce? From what?”
“Me, our partnership, the band—everything associated with The Beatles. We’re breaking up love. John and I aren’t going to say anything about it till the time comes, so you need to keep quiet too—but after this album is finished, then,” Paul took in a deep breath, “its over. The Beatles will be no more than a memory,” I swallowed hard and couldn’t believe it. This time it was real—Paul said it himself

“The Beatles will be no more than a memory”

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