Love Is Strange - Chapter One
Title: Love Is Strange
Pairing: Ringo Starr/Charlie Tillman (OC)
Rating: G (But, subject to change)
Summary: Interracial. During The Beatles first trip to the States, Ringo Starr connects with Charlie Tillman, a member of the black girl group The Debutantes and friends of The Beatles. What happens when two people who appear to have nothing in common have more in common than they thought possible?
Notes: Takes place during the events of ‘Dearest’. Thanks to Miss O’Dell with helpful suggestions for this chapter. I really do appreciate it.
Archive
Prologue
Chapter One - Hitching a Ride
Ringo walked down the aisle of the airplane. When it hit a bit of turbulence, he stopped moving and reached out with his hand and gripped a headrest to steady himself. He resumed walking to the back of the plane where George was sitting by himself. “How’re you feeling?”
“Alright.” He tiredly answered and stood up from the aisle seat to make room for his mate.
“You haven’t got to do that.” He replied but George ignored his words and moved over to the middle seat. “Ta.” Ringo dropped down next to him. “Mal and Neil are doing a fab job of keeping them away from you.” He motioned to the bustling activity near the front of the plane. It wasn’t only the Beatles and their entourage that boarded the 707 at Heathrow. They were joined by the press and manufactures trying to secure their likeness on merchandise. “I can hardly believe it. You know,? We’ve finally made it to America.”
George mischievously smiled. “I could pinch you if you want.” Both young men laughed.
Ringo playfully waved off the offer. “If you’re feeling good enough to take the piss you must be getting better.” He lightly stated and looked over at George. His friend didn’t look too well but Ringo had already asked him once and wasn’t one to push.
“Ringo.” A voice from up front called out.
He leaned sideways out of his seat. The voice belonged to a reporter carrying a portable tape recorder. He was headed down the aisle toward him.
“Your public awaits you.” George teasingly remarked.
Ringo laughed and stood up from the seat. He stepped out into the aisle and met the reporter halfway because he didn’t want the newsman to disturb his ill mate. “Yes?”
He pressed the red button on his tape recorder and held up the microphone near Ringo’s mouth. “This is your first trip to America.”
“Straight to the point.” He good naturedly replied and patted the man’s shoulder and nodded his head.
The reporter continued. “What are your thoughts on the States?”
John pushed by them in the aisle. “They’re oddly shaped.” He wryly commented into the microphone before he continued down the aisle.
Ringo chuckled at his mate’s wisecrack. “I can’t say. I’ve never been.” He casually replied with an easygoing smile on his face. His friendly nature made him a journalist’s dream to interview. He’d become a favorite of the press on the plane ride over from London to New York.
“Do you think you’ll like it? New Yorkers are notoriously rude.” The newsman stated this stereotype as fact.
Ringo thought about the blunt nature of Liverpudlians. “It won’t be any different from up the pool.”
“Are you saying that New Yorkers and Liverpudlians are the same?”
“I’m saying that I’ll feel right at home in the city that only sleeps when it’s tired.” He breezily gaffed New York’s well known nickname.
The captain announced over the PA system the plane’s descent and asked for everyone to take their seats. Ringo sat down in an aisle seat.
The reporter sat down in a seat across the aisle from him and held out his microphone. “What would you like to see first?”
“Look at that!” Someone excitedly shouted. Ringo knew that voice belonged to Paul.
“Whatever is out of Paul’s window. Excuse me.” Ringo jumped up from his seat and abruptly ended the interview. He scrambled over to the other side of the plane where Paul was seated. He slipped his hand onto his mate’s shoulder and leaned against his back to get a better look out of the window.
In the air, the crowd was sizable but looked oddly insignificant to him. However, when the plane bumpily landed on the ground, the throng of people waiting to see The Beatles suddenly appeared immense. Ringo was in a state of disbelief that everyone there were waiting to see him and his mates.
Paul looked over his shoulder at Ringo. “They can’t be here for us, can they? You don’t think?” He questioned but didn’t give Ringo the opportunity to answer. “Maybe, the president’s here?” He proposed and looked out of the window again.
It was absolute pandemonium. They’d never experienced anything quite like this back home in their native England. Ringo hoped this was a sign that they would be well received in the States. He watched Paul wave out of the window. He’d always been the most hammy member of the group and it made Ringo smile in amusement. His mates had earned the right to enjoy this fanfare but he hadn’t been there from the beginning. He’d become a member just as things had really started to take off for The Beatles.
Paul elbowed Ringo’s side. “They’ve gone potty.” He laughingly spoke to his friend.
“It’s bloody bedlam out there.” John spoke up from somewhere in the back.
Paul used his hand to hoist himself up and looked over the headrest at John seated a few rows behind them. “It is, isn’t it?” He dropped back down next to Ringo. “What do you think?”
“It’s something alright.” He dryly replied and Paul laughed at his apathetic tone.
Paul was up in his seat again. “Aye, Johnny! Ringo’s not impressed, man. Let’s have them turn the plane around.” He jokingly proposed and the cabin of passengers erupted into peals of laughter.
Ringo didn’t join in. He’d become momentarily preoccupied with thoughts of what happened next and what it meant for the group. He didn’t know what to expect once they stepped off the plane but ready or not The Beatles had arrived and his life would never be the same.
(****)
Charlie didn’t want to spend her time hanging out in Howard’s apartment in Brooklyn. She was stuck there sitting on his beat up sofa in between Wanda and Annette. They were waiting from him to return from the bakery around the corner with doughnuts.
Annette was getting on her nerves. She’d had enough of watching her friend nervously bounce her leg up and down. Charlie grabbed Annette’s thigh. “Stop.” She tersely spat out.
Annette frowned in response. “I can’t help it.” She defensively replied and tried to jerk her thigh out of the other young woman’s grasp. “Let go.” She spoke through her teeth and her tone sounded abrupt and strained.
“No.” Charlie glared at her friend. She wanted Annette to challenge her, Charlie was looking for a fight.
“How about the both of you stop?” Wanda testily proposed and stood up from the sofa and moved over to the armchair to sit down.
Her sharp words had gotten through to Charlie and she suddenly let go of Annette. She stood up from the sofa and walked over to the window that lead out to the fire escape. She briefly considered climbing out of it before she dismissed the thought as silly. Where could she go? Charlie looked out at the concrete landscape of Brooklyn. She tried to spot Howard’s plump figure waddle by the end of the alleyway. She couldn’t make him out from this distance and angle. It was pointless to even try.
She felt the same way about these meetings that their manager instead that they have to discuss group business. He’d go on about what was in the works for “my girls” but nothing had materialized for the trio since they’d arrived back to New York. If this didn’t work out, Charlie didn’t have anything or anyone to fall back on like her friends.
Wanda exasperatedly sighed. “You don’t have to leave.”
“I do.” Annette slipped on her coat and quickly buttoned it. “I have to get back the office.” She sounded apologetic but Charlie wouldn’t acknowledge it.
Charlie defensively crossed her arms over her chest. “Sure you do because that place couldn’t run without you.” She mockingly stated.
“It’s bad enough that I’m going to be late. On top of that you’re going to give me a hard time for having to work?” Annette pointed out. Charlie ignored her friend’s distressed tone. “I have to go. I’d like to keep my job.”
“You work for your dad.” She condescendingly pointed out.
Annette briefly frowned. “I don’t work for him. I work for the “Amsterdam News”.” She prickly corrected her.
Charlie smirked to herself because getting to Annette made her feel better about herself. “He works there. He got you the job there. Same difference.” She dismissively replied.
“It’s not.” Annette defensively countered. “I can’t come and go whenever I want. I waited for as long as I could.”
Charlie listened to the sound of footsteps cross the room. She didn’t turn around until she heard the door close. “What?” She curtly snapped and decided to focus her irritation and attention on Wanda.
“I didn’t say anything, Charlie. Don’t start with me.” She warningly spoke.
“You don’t have to because I know what you’re thinking about me.” She prepared to square off with Wanda. Charlie hadn’t gotten whatever it was out of her system.
“Do you? Do you really?” She questioned and fixed her a hard stare. “We have jobs and -”
“I don’t?” She cut Wanda off but didn’t have anything to say.
“Do you work? What is it that you do?” She remained composed and cool in her seat. Charlie knew Wanda wasn’t afraid to challenge her and that was part of the reason why she liked and respected her.
“If you want your money back -”
“Who said anything about money? I gave it to you because you needed it.” Wanda calmly spoke.
“So, you could hold it over me.” She questioned her friend’s good will.
“That’s not true -” Wanda abruptly stopped talking when the door opened. Howard stepped inside the apartment holding a pastry box. “Where’s Annette?”
“She had to go and play typist.” Charlie bitingly replied.
(****)
It had been an exciting but long day the Beatles. After stepping off of the plane at Kennedy airport, the group held their first American press conference in the lounge of the Pan Am Arrivals building. When the lads finished they were taken to their swanky digs at the Plaza Hotel.
They feasted on room service and watched the news coverage of themselves on television and called into radio stations requesting the songs of the American artists they wanted to hear.
Shortly after George had excused himself from the front room to phone Annette, Ringo decided to do the same and phone Maureen. He went to his private suite.
He was sitting on his bed with the phone on his lap and picked up the receiver and abruptly dropped it back onto the cradle. Ringo couldn’t be arsed to make a simple call to his girlfriend but it wasn’t unusual for him to go weeks without calling her. Besides, what did he have to talk about it? He reasoned that aside from the airport and seeing a bit of the city on the way to the hotel that he hadn’t really seen anything that warranted him phoning her up. Ringo decided to wait until tomorrow when he was sure he’d have more to say and be in the mood to speak with her.
He stood up from the bed and placed the phone back onto the bedside table. Ringo was knackered but at the same time he was too keyed up to fall off to sleep. He joined his mates back in the front room.
Paul was still on the phone. “The Debutantes. Yes, The Debutantes they’re quite big back in England.” John chortled but remained silent. Ringo sat down on the sofa and propped his sock clad feet onto the coffee table. Paul continued, “Yes, a very popular trio and if you play their record -”
John loudly spoke up. “He’s still trying to sell them on the Debs.” Ringo watched Paul quickly place his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. “Good luck with that. What do you think, Ritch?”
Ringo shrugged because he hadn’t given the girl group much thought since he’d last seen them in England. He didn’t really know the girls and didn’t see that changing during the Beatles stay in New York.
(****)
Charlie didn’t know if she wanted to see John and Paul especially the former. Howard had announced the plans he’d made with The Beatles manager, Brian for the two groups to meet was scheduled for tomorrow morning.
Howard looked quite pleased with himself for setting it up. He licked the glaze from the doughnut off of his fingers. “So? What do you think?” He picked up a powdered doughnut from the box.
Wanda spoke up. “How’re we going to make a name for ourselves if we attach our group to theirs?”
Charlie nodded. “We don’t need them.” She dismissively replied. Charlie hated to admit that their association with the group could work in their favor. She wanted to make it big but she loathed the idea of hitching The Debutantes wagon to The Beatles star.
“You’re mistaken. If you think you don’t need them because you do.” He bluntly corrected them.
“What if they flop over here? What then?” Wanda questioned. Charlie knew her friend had never warmed up to the group in England. It appeared to her that Wanda’s opinion hadn’t changed. “We’ll be connected to a group that failed.” She pointed out.
Howard dismissively waved his hand in her direction. “If you want to make it in this business girls you’ve got to do things you don’t like because it’ll lead to better opportunities.”
Charlie thought about his words and understood he had a point. “It makes sense.”
He confidently continued. “It’ll get your faces and names in the papers and your songs on the radio. Maybe, even appearances on television as well.” He enthusiastically spoke.
His excitement made Charlie smile. She knew Howard believed in them but that was easy to forget when the opportunities he’d promised hadn’t panned out. She could play nice with the boys for the sake of advancing The Debutantes longevity and success.
End of chapter one - Hitching a Ride
Chapter Two - You Don't Own Me