That's the way the story goes...
Chapters 3-5 are here! Yay! This was a short one. But good things come in small packages. : )
For all intents and purposes this story is now called
Beautiful Girl
Chapter 3: It’s driving me mad…
George sank into the nearest chair, debating whether he should go back to bed. He wasn’t really sick, just extremely tired. Maybe, his throat was a little sore but that only helped his case. They’d only been there a day, but he was already annoyed with the crowds and the photographers. He just needed a break.
Thinking he might just catch a nap right there, he tried his best to get comfortable but just couldn’t rest. He opened his eyes and his gaze met the clock on the side table.
“Ten already?” he thought. Then he noticed the scrap of paper lying just within his reach. He smiled to himself as he could hear John in the corner of his mind, egging him on.
“Come on, Georgie, call the girl! Have some fun while the cats are away.”
George stuck by his belief that they were making it all up. They had to be.
“She seemed nice and all, but she was just doing her job,” he thought, “Sure, I could ring her, but what would be the point? I hardly even know the girl…”
His train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Who could that possibly…Oh.” George quickly remembered that Eppy had promised to send someone to check on him. He opened the door to find himself facing a rather large paper bag. The bag entered followed by a rather attractive figure.
“I can’t believe Brian sent a girl up, and not a bad looking one at that,” George thought to himself.
She carried the bag into the kitchen and he couldn’t help but follow her. She placed it on the counter and turned to face George to his complete surprise.
“So you’re a little under the weather, huh? Poor baby, let me look at you.” Laura waltzed up to him, looked up into his eyes and placed a hand on his forehead. Being this close, he could smell her perfume and he didn’t know why, but he had the barely controllable urge to take her in his arms and kiss her. As soon as this thought flashed through his mind however, she pulled away, wiping her hand on her jeans.
“I don’t think you have a fever, Mr. Harrison, but either way, I think what you need is rest and some real food in you.” She smiled at him and turned back to the bag and its contents. “You just sit yourself down in there and it’ll be ready in just a minute,” she ordered.
George obediently followed, having yet to speak. He was a bit dumbfounded as he never expected to see Laura again, much less have her taking care of him like she'd known him all his life. Honestly, it was all a bit overwhelming.
“I’m not really that sick, you know,” he finally said.
“What was that, hon’?” she asked, peeking around the corner from the kitchen.
“I said, ‘I’m not really that sick.’ You don’t have to go through all this trouble.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all, Mr. Harrison,” she reassured him with a smile, “Don’t you worry. I’ll be right there.” She brought a tray in, sitting it in front of him on the coffee table.
“Here you go. Homemade chicken soup.” She took a seat on the sofa nearest to him. Not wanting to seem impolite, George tasted the soup and was surprised at how good it was.
“You made this yourself?” he asked.
“Yep, it’s my mother’s recipe. ‘Good for what ails you,’ she used to say.”
“It is good,” he said, for lack of anything else.
“Well thank you, Mr. Harrison. She’ll appreciate the compliment, as do I.”
“You don’t have to be so formal, you know,” he replied.
“What do you mean?” Laura asked, as if she was completely oblivious.
“You can call me George,” he added, “If you want to, that is.”
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr. Harrison. It’d be unprofessional,” she said a bit anxiously.
“It’s just us here though, I mean, who’s to know?” George continued to persuade her. Not that he expected anything out of this, but it wouldn’t hurt him to try and make a friend.
“I don’t know,” she debated, “Supposing…supposing I slipped and called you that in public?”
“Well, it is my name so it wouldn’t be the end of the world.” They both laughed and she thought a moment before replying.
“Well, that’s true I suppose, but won’t people, you know, start to…talk?”
“About what? Do you realize just how many hundreds of girls only know me by George, if not just ‘one of those Beatles’,” he explained.
“Okay, you have a point,” she finally said. They sat in silence. George finished his soup, waiting for her to say something. Offer her name at least.
“Well,” he half-asked after some time.
“Well what?” she returned, as if not quite aware of the awkward silence that had proceeded.
“Never mind,” he said attempting to take his tray into the kitchen but she stopped him.
“Here, let me get that,” she said.
“No, you done far too much for me already,” he argued.
“But I’d like to take it, really. After all, George,” Laura slyly smiled, “I came here to help.” She grabbed the tray, her hands just overlapping his. Once again, George felt like he could hardly control himself. He wanted to hold her close and he wondered why she had such a power over him. He finally let go, realizing just how awkward the moment had become.
Chapter 4: How often have you been there?
Laura bit her lip as she turned to the kitchen, finally able to exhale. She didn’t know how much longer she could take it and technically she wasn’t even supposed to be there. Darn her eavesdropping. It would get her into trouble one of these days.
“Laura, this is wrong,” she told herself in that same tone that sounded more and more like her mother. “You shouldn’t be here. Did you expect him to fall for you? You of all people should know life doesn’t ever work out that way.”
She thought about how many times it seemed like love had given her a slap in the face, and she certainly didn’t want it to happen again. But she also thought that this time might be different. There had been something there, a spark between them, something intangible but definitely there.
George followed shortly after her, leaning casually against the doorframe. “You okay?” he noticed she was standing there, motionless.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine hon’” she said unbelievably as she turned, still leaning somewhat on the counter for support, to face him. “Don’t worry ‘bout little ol’ me.”
“Supposing I want to? I owe that much to you,” he smiled ever so slightly, a real smile, not the fake happiness the press and mobs of fans often saw. He had totally dropped a bombshell on her but she didn’t flinch a bit. He did however notice something different about her, a slight change although he was clueless to what it meant.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Laura realized it must be the real caretaker and she was scared to death what might happen. She would most likely lose her job, her foot in the door to stardom, and most of all she’d lose any hope of a chance with him.
“Do you want me to get that?” she asked as if her life depended on it, because to some degree it did.
“No, I’ll get it, just wait here,” George said wondering what sort of force was against him today. First he seemed to get no reaction whatsoever from this girl, although he thought she might like him, and now someone else coming to interrupt.
“Lou! What are you doing here?” George tried to greet his sister as naturally as possible although he wanted more than ever for her to leave.
“Just thought I’d come by and check on you, George. Brian said you were sick and I thought you might need something.” Laura held her breath, she could hear the entire conversation and hoped George wouldn’t mention her being there but what was to stop him?
“You really didn’t need to come, Louise. I mean, I’m really not sick, just tired and I’ve got plenty to eat and keep me occupied and…” he trailed off.
“Well,” Louise paused, tempted to inspect the kitchen, her little brother was so very independent even if he did need help, “If you’re sure. I don’t want mum on my case though, if it turns out you really are sick.”
“If it gets that bad, I swear my last words will be, ‘It’s not Lou’s fault, mum!’” George promised.
“Alright, little brother, you take care of yourself.” Louise left and George shut the door behind her, breathing a small sigh of relief. He didn’t know why he always felt he had to hide things from her. He was a grown man after all, well nearly twenty-one anyroad.
Hearing the door close, Laura stepped into the room with the look of, ‘Is she gone?’ written across her face.
George replied, “That was my sister, Louise. Lovely girl but she never can seem to leave well enough alone. But she is my sister, so I guess I have to love her.” He smiled, Laura returning the gesture.
“Do you come from a large family then?” he inquired, somewhat changing the subject.
“Three, I’m the oldest,” she answered.
“Oh,” he said, not giving much of a reply.
“You?” she asked hoping for a little more information.
“There’s four of us,” he stopped perhaps a little ashamed to admit his standing.
“And you’re the youngest, I bet,” she offered.
“How’d you figure?” George asked, a little taken aback.
“I was right?” Laura laughed. George nodded, tapping the tip of his nose in reply.
This time they shared a laugh, and Laura found a seat on the couch. George joined her and they found themselves yet again in a bit of awkward silence.
“I just realized something,” he said unexpectedly.
“What, George?” she asked, still feeling wary about using his name, but warming up to the idea.
“I don’t even know your name, well not your first name anyhow…” he awaited her answer.
“Oh, so that’s what that was about,” was all she offered. He didn’t bother to question the statement, even thought it did puzzle him and wasn’t an answer he had expected.
“It’s Laura, although sometimes I go by Cam,” she said.
“Lah-ra?” George tried to say it like she did, in his best American accent although it still had a little Scouser lilt. She giggled like a schoolgirl and wrote it down for him, hoping he would just say it normally, as she found his accent very adorable.
“Oh, Laura,” he said reading the name, and without really thinking added, “That’s pretty, so I guess it fits.” Realizing what he said he somewhat winced but Laura didn’t notice. She blushed and managed to say “Thanks,” but couldn’t look at him again. Nerves had overtaken her and she could only stare at her hands.
He noticed her embarrassment and said, “You act like no one’s ever told you that before.”
“What if I told you, they haven’t?” she said, with a hint of annoyance not really wanting to rake up the buried coals of her past.
“Then I’d think you were lying. It can’t be true, not one guy ever?” George was truly surprised.
“No, okay? Not one, ever. Just drop it,” she became more defensive and he knew that he should quit, but there was just one more thing he had to say.
“I just honestly can’t believe it.”
And with that she started to cry, she didn’t know the reason she was just being a foolish girl, but she couldn’t help it.
George panicked. “Don’t cry, love, please! I didn’t mean it, honest! Whatever I said, I take it back!” She tried to stop and look at him, wiping her face, attempting a half-hearted smile.
He couldn’t stand to see her like that, even if he technically had just met her. He leaned over, putting his arm around her, trying to give her some comfort if just a shoulder to lean on. Much to his surprise, she threw both her arms around his neck like they were long-lost friends.
“Thank you,” she whispered in his ear, before pulling away.
Chapter 5: How does it feel to be one of the beautiful people?
“For what? Making you cry? I’d rather not be thanked for that …” George was confused but Laura had seemed a constant enigma to him, the short time he had known her.
“I’m sorry. You didn’t cause it, I promise. It’s just…” she paused, having trouble putting her thoughts into words. “It’s just what?” he said, taking her hand. He actually was concerned for her, hanging on her every word, which for Laura, made it just that much harder.
“I’ve never actually told anyone that,” she admitted, “I’ve just lived with it for twenty years, afraid to say it aloud. And when I did, it just sort of…erupted. But now, It’s like…I don’t know, just gone and I feel so happy,” she gushed and in her excitement kissed him on the cheek.
Realizing, she stopped cold, worried what might happen next. George had the same shocked expression on his face, even after Laura pulled away.
She just sat there, averting her eyes, not knowing what to do, a smile creeping across her face that she tried to keep to herself. He blinked finally and, smiling to himself, reached over and tilted her head up. She looked into his eyes and finally he got to kiss her and hold her close, neither of them wanting to let go.
---------------------------------------
“What a bunch of baloney!” Sylvie said turning back to her magazine.
“Don’t listen to her, Cam, I think it’s lovely,” Jennifer said, “Too bad it’s not true.”
“Yeah, now if it were true then it’d be a good story,” Sylvie cracked before her and Jennifer became engrossed in the latest Beatle interview.
Laura didn’t pay them any mind though. She instead went back to eating her soup, trying her best to get over the cold she’d had for at least a week.
She knew and he knew and that’s all that mattered.
THE END
Was it everything you expected? Totally unexpected? (it went all Spanish Inquisition on you? lol.)
Tell me what you think! :D
Just so you know:
I was totally thrown for a loop in my quest for accuracy when I found out Louise came to take care of him that day,
but who's to say history wasn't fudged a little? lol. I think I worked it out okay but it's up to you to decide. : )
Oh and sidenote: Janet thinks Laura was based on me, but idk... I mean maybe but Laura's way more confident than I am.
Love,
Anna
For all intents and purposes this story is now called
Beautiful Girl
Chapter 3: It’s driving me mad…
George sank into the nearest chair, debating whether he should go back to bed. He wasn’t really sick, just extremely tired. Maybe, his throat was a little sore but that only helped his case. They’d only been there a day, but he was already annoyed with the crowds and the photographers. He just needed a break.
Thinking he might just catch a nap right there, he tried his best to get comfortable but just couldn’t rest. He opened his eyes and his gaze met the clock on the side table.
“Ten already?” he thought. Then he noticed the scrap of paper lying just within his reach. He smiled to himself as he could hear John in the corner of his mind, egging him on.
“Come on, Georgie, call the girl! Have some fun while the cats are away.”
George stuck by his belief that they were making it all up. They had to be.
“She seemed nice and all, but she was just doing her job,” he thought, “Sure, I could ring her, but what would be the point? I hardly even know the girl…”
His train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Who could that possibly…Oh.” George quickly remembered that Eppy had promised to send someone to check on him. He opened the door to find himself facing a rather large paper bag. The bag entered followed by a rather attractive figure.
“I can’t believe Brian sent a girl up, and not a bad looking one at that,” George thought to himself.
She carried the bag into the kitchen and he couldn’t help but follow her. She placed it on the counter and turned to face George to his complete surprise.
“So you’re a little under the weather, huh? Poor baby, let me look at you.” Laura waltzed up to him, looked up into his eyes and placed a hand on his forehead. Being this close, he could smell her perfume and he didn’t know why, but he had the barely controllable urge to take her in his arms and kiss her. As soon as this thought flashed through his mind however, she pulled away, wiping her hand on her jeans.
“I don’t think you have a fever, Mr. Harrison, but either way, I think what you need is rest and some real food in you.” She smiled at him and turned back to the bag and its contents. “You just sit yourself down in there and it’ll be ready in just a minute,” she ordered.
George obediently followed, having yet to speak. He was a bit dumbfounded as he never expected to see Laura again, much less have her taking care of him like she'd known him all his life. Honestly, it was all a bit overwhelming.
“I’m not really that sick, you know,” he finally said.
“What was that, hon’?” she asked, peeking around the corner from the kitchen.
“I said, ‘I’m not really that sick.’ You don’t have to go through all this trouble.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all, Mr. Harrison,” she reassured him with a smile, “Don’t you worry. I’ll be right there.” She brought a tray in, sitting it in front of him on the coffee table.
“Here you go. Homemade chicken soup.” She took a seat on the sofa nearest to him. Not wanting to seem impolite, George tasted the soup and was surprised at how good it was.
“You made this yourself?” he asked.
“Yep, it’s my mother’s recipe. ‘Good for what ails you,’ she used to say.”
“It is good,” he said, for lack of anything else.
“Well thank you, Mr. Harrison. She’ll appreciate the compliment, as do I.”
“You don’t have to be so formal, you know,” he replied.
“What do you mean?” Laura asked, as if she was completely oblivious.
“You can call me George,” he added, “If you want to, that is.”
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr. Harrison. It’d be unprofessional,” she said a bit anxiously.
“It’s just us here though, I mean, who’s to know?” George continued to persuade her. Not that he expected anything out of this, but it wouldn’t hurt him to try and make a friend.
“I don’t know,” she debated, “Supposing…supposing I slipped and called you that in public?”
“Well, it is my name so it wouldn’t be the end of the world.” They both laughed and she thought a moment before replying.
“Well, that’s true I suppose, but won’t people, you know, start to…talk?”
“About what? Do you realize just how many hundreds of girls only know me by George, if not just ‘one of those Beatles’,” he explained.
“Okay, you have a point,” she finally said. They sat in silence. George finished his soup, waiting for her to say something. Offer her name at least.
“Well,” he half-asked after some time.
“Well what?” she returned, as if not quite aware of the awkward silence that had proceeded.
“Never mind,” he said attempting to take his tray into the kitchen but she stopped him.
“Here, let me get that,” she said.
“No, you done far too much for me already,” he argued.
“But I’d like to take it, really. After all, George,” Laura slyly smiled, “I came here to help.” She grabbed the tray, her hands just overlapping his. Once again, George felt like he could hardly control himself. He wanted to hold her close and he wondered why she had such a power over him. He finally let go, realizing just how awkward the moment had become.
Chapter 4: How often have you been there?
Laura bit her lip as she turned to the kitchen, finally able to exhale. She didn’t know how much longer she could take it and technically she wasn’t even supposed to be there. Darn her eavesdropping. It would get her into trouble one of these days.
“Laura, this is wrong,” she told herself in that same tone that sounded more and more like her mother. “You shouldn’t be here. Did you expect him to fall for you? You of all people should know life doesn’t ever work out that way.”
She thought about how many times it seemed like love had given her a slap in the face, and she certainly didn’t want it to happen again. But she also thought that this time might be different. There had been something there, a spark between them, something intangible but definitely there.
George followed shortly after her, leaning casually against the doorframe. “You okay?” he noticed she was standing there, motionless.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine hon’” she said unbelievably as she turned, still leaning somewhat on the counter for support, to face him. “Don’t worry ‘bout little ol’ me.”
“Supposing I want to? I owe that much to you,” he smiled ever so slightly, a real smile, not the fake happiness the press and mobs of fans often saw. He had totally dropped a bombshell on her but she didn’t flinch a bit. He did however notice something different about her, a slight change although he was clueless to what it meant.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Laura realized it must be the real caretaker and she was scared to death what might happen. She would most likely lose her job, her foot in the door to stardom, and most of all she’d lose any hope of a chance with him.
“Do you want me to get that?” she asked as if her life depended on it, because to some degree it did.
“No, I’ll get it, just wait here,” George said wondering what sort of force was against him today. First he seemed to get no reaction whatsoever from this girl, although he thought she might like him, and now someone else coming to interrupt.
“Lou! What are you doing here?” George tried to greet his sister as naturally as possible although he wanted more than ever for her to leave.
“Just thought I’d come by and check on you, George. Brian said you were sick and I thought you might need something.” Laura held her breath, she could hear the entire conversation and hoped George wouldn’t mention her being there but what was to stop him?
“You really didn’t need to come, Louise. I mean, I’m really not sick, just tired and I’ve got plenty to eat and keep me occupied and…” he trailed off.
“Well,” Louise paused, tempted to inspect the kitchen, her little brother was so very independent even if he did need help, “If you’re sure. I don’t want mum on my case though, if it turns out you really are sick.”
“If it gets that bad, I swear my last words will be, ‘It’s not Lou’s fault, mum!’” George promised.
“Alright, little brother, you take care of yourself.” Louise left and George shut the door behind her, breathing a small sigh of relief. He didn’t know why he always felt he had to hide things from her. He was a grown man after all, well nearly twenty-one anyroad.
Hearing the door close, Laura stepped into the room with the look of, ‘Is she gone?’ written across her face.
George replied, “That was my sister, Louise. Lovely girl but she never can seem to leave well enough alone. But she is my sister, so I guess I have to love her.” He smiled, Laura returning the gesture.
“Do you come from a large family then?” he inquired, somewhat changing the subject.
“Three, I’m the oldest,” she answered.
“Oh,” he said, not giving much of a reply.
“You?” she asked hoping for a little more information.
“There’s four of us,” he stopped perhaps a little ashamed to admit his standing.
“And you’re the youngest, I bet,” she offered.
“How’d you figure?” George asked, a little taken aback.
“I was right?” Laura laughed. George nodded, tapping the tip of his nose in reply.
This time they shared a laugh, and Laura found a seat on the couch. George joined her and they found themselves yet again in a bit of awkward silence.
“I just realized something,” he said unexpectedly.
“What, George?” she asked, still feeling wary about using his name, but warming up to the idea.
“I don’t even know your name, well not your first name anyhow…” he awaited her answer.
“Oh, so that’s what that was about,” was all she offered. He didn’t bother to question the statement, even thought it did puzzle him and wasn’t an answer he had expected.
“It’s Laura, although sometimes I go by Cam,” she said.
“Lah-ra?” George tried to say it like she did, in his best American accent although it still had a little Scouser lilt. She giggled like a schoolgirl and wrote it down for him, hoping he would just say it normally, as she found his accent very adorable.
“Oh, Laura,” he said reading the name, and without really thinking added, “That’s pretty, so I guess it fits.” Realizing what he said he somewhat winced but Laura didn’t notice. She blushed and managed to say “Thanks,” but couldn’t look at him again. Nerves had overtaken her and she could only stare at her hands.
He noticed her embarrassment and said, “You act like no one’s ever told you that before.”
“What if I told you, they haven’t?” she said, with a hint of annoyance not really wanting to rake up the buried coals of her past.
“Then I’d think you were lying. It can’t be true, not one guy ever?” George was truly surprised.
“No, okay? Not one, ever. Just drop it,” she became more defensive and he knew that he should quit, but there was just one more thing he had to say.
“I just honestly can’t believe it.”
And with that she started to cry, she didn’t know the reason she was just being a foolish girl, but she couldn’t help it.
George panicked. “Don’t cry, love, please! I didn’t mean it, honest! Whatever I said, I take it back!” She tried to stop and look at him, wiping her face, attempting a half-hearted smile.
He couldn’t stand to see her like that, even if he technically had just met her. He leaned over, putting his arm around her, trying to give her some comfort if just a shoulder to lean on. Much to his surprise, she threw both her arms around his neck like they were long-lost friends.
“Thank you,” she whispered in his ear, before pulling away.
Chapter 5: How does it feel to be one of the beautiful people?
“For what? Making you cry? I’d rather not be thanked for that …” George was confused but Laura had seemed a constant enigma to him, the short time he had known her.
“I’m sorry. You didn’t cause it, I promise. It’s just…” she paused, having trouble putting her thoughts into words. “It’s just what?” he said, taking her hand. He actually was concerned for her, hanging on her every word, which for Laura, made it just that much harder.
“I’ve never actually told anyone that,” she admitted, “I’ve just lived with it for twenty years, afraid to say it aloud. And when I did, it just sort of…erupted. But now, It’s like…I don’t know, just gone and I feel so happy,” she gushed and in her excitement kissed him on the cheek.
Realizing, she stopped cold, worried what might happen next. George had the same shocked expression on his face, even after Laura pulled away.
She just sat there, averting her eyes, not knowing what to do, a smile creeping across her face that she tried to keep to herself. He blinked finally and, smiling to himself, reached over and tilted her head up. She looked into his eyes and finally he got to kiss her and hold her close, neither of them wanting to let go.
---------------------------------------
“What a bunch of baloney!” Sylvie said turning back to her magazine.
“Don’t listen to her, Cam, I think it’s lovely,” Jennifer said, “Too bad it’s not true.”
“Yeah, now if it were true then it’d be a good story,” Sylvie cracked before her and Jennifer became engrossed in the latest Beatle interview.
Laura didn’t pay them any mind though. She instead went back to eating her soup, trying her best to get over the cold she’d had for at least a week.
She knew and he knew and that’s all that mattered.
THE END
Was it everything you expected? Totally unexpected? (it went all Spanish Inquisition on you? lol.)
Tell me what you think! :D
Just so you know:
I was totally thrown for a loop in my quest for accuracy when I found out Louise came to take care of him that day,
but who's to say history wasn't fudged a little? lol. I think I worked it out okay but it's up to you to decide. : )
Oh and sidenote: Janet thinks Laura was based on me, but idk... I mean maybe but Laura's way more confident than I am.
Love,
Anna