And Your Girl Can Sing

Chapter 13: When You're A Better Guitar Player Than McCartney

"Well, don't you look nice." He walked around me, gazing at me with admiration in his eyes. I lowered my eyes slightly, feeling a little like a zoo animal. "Hey, love, don't," he said gently, seeing my reaction change. "You look fab. Fab, like the band you're always going off about... I just think you look nice is all."

    I let the smallest hint of a smile pass through my lips. "Fab," I repeated, and grinned as he hesitated a while, and then asked, "Can I hold your hand?"

    I nodded and held out my hand, and he took it. "Come on. There's loads to see in Kensington gardens. It's right pretty." We entered the garden, me wobbling a little in my inch heels, the ones June told me to pop on because they looked nice on a first date. The sun shone on my back and he said quickly, "D'ya want my coat?" I laughed at his courtesy and saw the sparks of my laughter reflected in his eyes. He grinned and ran a hand through his short hair. "My favorite flower bed is this way."

    "Why is it your favorite?" I asked him.

    He was quiet. "It was one of my uncle's favorite flower beds." I gave his hand a light squeeze and this seemed to fuel him; he smiled at me, sweating a little in his light blue dress shirt. I gave my bare shoulders a shrug and he squeezed my hand back, staring straight into the magnolias before us. "He—"

    "What?" I asked him after a pause, unsure if he meant to continue or not. A light breeze passed through and he let go of my hand slowly and passed over his coat, which I took. "He died. Of AIDS. He—my uncle, I suppose, was my uncle's close friend and they made it through the eighties, but in the bloody 2000s he had to go and die." He was still looking at the flower bed. I turned towards him and he looked at me in response, and then I put my arms around him, tip toeing in my uncomfortable shoes and I said, "I didn't know, Danny, I'm so sorry."

    He looked up into my eyes and said, "Thank you, Cora."

***

    My eyes opened and I saw a blurred figure at the foot of my bed. "George?" I called out, sure it wasn't John. "It's me," John said, his voice sounding higher than normal.

    "Well I was so sure it was George. I mean, this is his bed and all."

Light was flooding through the window; I guessed it to be around ten in the morning. The beds around me were deserted; the only ones in the room were John and me. He took my hand, but I awkwardly avoided his reach and brought it back to my side, not looking at him.

"I'm sorry, Cora, I really am," he said, blushing. I saw a small, embarrassed smile flit across his face before he looked at the floor. I sat up fully and responded quietly, "This is George's bed. Not yours. Where did he sleep? Why couldn't I have used yours?" John's cheeks turned red for a brief moment before he answered, "He slept in my bed. I slept outside. Well, er.. in your room."

"Come again?" I asked, incredulous.

"George took my bed; I felt like an arsehole that we were using his. So I slept outside. It seemed like the right thing to do."

The situation turned around and around in my groggy mind. "Why... couldn't I have slept in your bed?"

He looked at me. "I don't know," he said, and it ended there, a simple statement that in the way he said it was enough for me. "Listen, I want to sing you something."

I was about to speak but stopped, curiosity getting the better of me. "All right, Lennon," I said softly, my will bending at the prospect of hearing him sing. He started, and oh, the words hit me straight to the heart and as I listened to his voice, stricken with emotion. I let myself be carried away under the spell of his song and his piercing vocals, even though they were sung softly. The whole thing felt like a glass bubble, just me and John in the sunlit room. The song died down with the words I'm in love with you, and I saw his eyes hold an expression of accomplishment and words that he couldn't say, but rather sung, and the words half of what I say is meaningless, but I say it just to reach you... floated into my mind.