From The Ashes 3/?
Title: From The Ashes
Pairing: Ultimately: Maureen/Cynthia.
Summary: After an unspeakable tragedy leaves her a young widow, Maureen works to re-build her life out of the shadow of her late husband, with the help of friends, family, and especially Cynthia.
Warnings: Major character death, self-harm and suicide, addiction, depictions of blood.
Rating: R for subject matter.
Chapter 3: Never Underestimate the Impossible
"It's not that simple, George. It's really not" That Paul can even consider going on as a group without her husband doesn’t set well with Maureen but she can’t find the nerve to speak up. Not having a Ritchie there has put her off her nerve a bit. Especially because his absence is the reason she is even here. She feels the same dull ache in her stomach as she did when she had to do a reading in front of her class in school, knowing eventually she'll have to take her turn.
For once, she's relatively glad of the animosity between the lads. Inappropriate, yes, but it keeps attention off of her.
George sighs heavily. "I fail to see how it's any debate, McCartney! Ritchie kind of quit for good, this time. Without him, I ain't continuing as 'Beatle-George'. We have an album complete except mixing, with, coincidentally, the only solo he's ever done on record and it's damn good. We take our final bow, let his ...his memory live on in what he...he left us with." George’s voice breaks just a bit and,by instinct, Maureen reaches over and gives his hand a soft squeeze.
"Ya know, Macca, I'm loathe to say it, but little Georgie here is right. By leavin' us like the coward he is, our Richard done us a favor. We can quit this nightmare and be free to do other things. Never was a man of words, him." John practically spits the words. "Isn't that right, Mo? He didn't want to keep up this charade anymore. So he decided , in his simple, selfish, mind, he'd take the easy way out."
All fear that Maureen has been feeling melts away in an instant. "How dare you?" She hisses , beyond angry. "Ritchie was a good man, and he loved you lot as brothers. He had his problems sure, but that you even suggest that he ..." She trails off unable to finish her sentence.
A mistake as John takes this as his chance to strike. "He loved us? I knew you were a bit thick, but you have a horrible misunderstanding of love. "
In the blink of an eye, Maureen finds herself back to the scraper she was in the council flats by the docks. She bolts from her chair and draws herself to her full height. .“You miserable sod! I understand love plenty. Ritchie was love in flesh. He weren't perfect but love and devotion are the two things I'll remember until the day they put me in the ground. Maybe it's you what ought to look at love . You had someone what loved you no matter what or who you done .And you chucked her. And mates, like Ritchie, who you also chucked aside. For what? Her next to you? A gold chasin' slag ?And you want to say I don't understand love?" She's shaking, riled beyond reason and even moves as if to charge John, who hasn't moved but is red in the face, but also looking at her like she's seen Tiger eye a bug it wants to hunt.
"How dare you bring Yoko into this? It's your useless selfish husband we're talking about. Though it's cute you think he loved you. Absolutely sweet ; if sad. He married you cause he got you up the duff as they say. Pulled you out of the council flats, didn't he? And you call Yoko, who's done not a thing wrong, the gold chaser?”
Maureen can barely keep from swinging at John. In fact if it weren't for George’s gentle grip on her shoulder, she's pretty sure she'd take a swing.
"Mo, he ain't worth it. Just grab a smoke. We're all all over with emotion. Take a break." George gently offers. "We all should. We're trying to glue ourselves back without our glue."
"We have a lot to discuss, George. " Paul finally speaks up. "As soon as possible. "
"And we will. But emotions are still too high to do anything productive. Our business we can deal with later. Just the ...the three of us" George trails off with a small break in his voice."Look, we should go , get a break. Come back and try to talk like adults."
Maureen sighs. "You're right. I just let me emotions take over. Ritchie was a good man what done a daft thing. I don't want anyone thinkin' the worst of him, now he's gone and can't fight back."
"No one does, Maureen, I promise. " Paul offers, cutting John a sharp look. "George is right. We've been bickering about business affairs this whole time and that should be between the three of us. We need your input on a few things, but an hour's break to get tea and cool down won't go amiss. "
Maureen nods. The nervousness is gone, but so is the adrenaline. All that is left is reality. Stark cold reality. "An hour then? So it's 3 pm now, so , knowing the lot of you, 5 pm you'll start trickling back in ?" She tries to joke but her voice sounds weak and little to her own ears.
"Exactly, Mo." Paul offers a smile that's obviously meant as reassuring but for the first time in her time knowing Paul, she cannot be assured by his perfectly practiced smile.
Maureen nods and grabs her purse, then, as quickly as humanly possible , she makes her way out the door. Trying to keep her cool , she manages to get to the top of the steps outside before the mixed emotions catch up with her and she sits down heavily on the top step, drawing shaky breaths as she manages to light a cigarette. Taking a long drag, she looks around, noting for the first time, just at the foot of the stairs, tucked in a corner a safe distance from the walking path, a small collection of notes and flowers and other memorabilia. A makeshift memorial. It drives home things- everyday she almost manages to forget the finality of his absence until something reminds her- and Maureen can't stop a small shaky sob. Powering through, being a good Scouse woman who carries on , keeping a stiff upper lip, it's all fine in theory but the reality is sometimes she just needs a good long cry and someone to tell her things will work out in the end.
A vaguely familiar blonde slowly approaches from across the street, purposely but a bit hesitant. Trying to figure out how she knows this woman before she gets close enough to make out features properly becomes a welcome small distraction and Maureen concentrates on this as she takes another much needed drag off her cigarette.
*******
Approaching Abbey Road Studios for the first time in a few years, Cynthia has to stop every few meters to remind herself why she's headed there so dread of seeing her ex-husband doesn't make her turn back to the hotel she checked into and arrange to go back to Liverpool on the first train she can book.
When she gets nearer, just before she crosses the zebra crossing, she focuses on what's in front of her for the first time, and her gaze lands on Maureen. The young woman is smoking a cigarette, looking small and deep in thought, but with an air of the same quiet strength that's always been something Cynthia admires about her. She quickens her approach, only pausing briefly
once she's at the foot of the stairs, just to gather her thoughts. In that pause, Maureen looks up and focuses on her. And after a brief flash of confusion , those dark eyes light up and in a second she's to her feet and down the steps. She only pauses to drop her cigarette and extinguishes it with the toe of her shoe before throwing her arms around Cynthia, holding her tightly.
Cynthia wraps her arms around the younger woman, holding her just as close. Time spent apart seems to melt away in their embrace.
*******
The small, badly lit pub is the perfect place to catch up. Not ideal for scenery but the need for privacy makes the high- backed booths far more ideal then a small table at the nearby café.
"He's just hurting. It doesn’t make it right, all those shots he took at both you and Ringo. But John and loss are complex." Cynthia sighs, tapping a bit of her ash of into the ashtray on the table before extinguishing it.
"I know, sort of. I just...Ritchie didn't mean to go. I know it's daft; after all the police said it were self-inflicted..." Maureen trails off as a small shudder as the phrase still has a powerful effect on her. "...but ...the look on his face when I found him, I just...he weren't at peace. He looked so panicked. Like he knew he'd made a grave mistake. It were another cry for help gone drastically wrong this time. No one believes me but I will go to my grave believing this one was just the time that got away." Maureen blows a cloud of smoke up to the ceiling.
"Oh Mo." Cynthia trails off , unsure what to say. Or if there is anything that would be appropriate or helpful. "You knew him best, of everyone. If you think it was like that, then that's how it was."
Maureen sadly shakes her head. "I thought I knew him best. But clearly I didn't. I missed something very key that day. He tried twice before and I'd been so careful about when I left him alone and that I weren't ever gone too long. But we'd had a wonderful day that day- I've replayed it in me head a dozen times a day- had breakfast just him and I , and..." Maureen bites on her lower lip, smiling slightly. "Made love. For hours, because the boys were with me mum. Dozed off together, just were together. Then I went to do just a bit of shopping, and I told him I wouldn't be but three hours at most. I didn't really need a new dress but he had tickets to summit and I sometimes get tired of the same things. He encouraged me. I hesitated for a bit but he told me to treat myself." Maureen takes a long drag off her cigarette before extinguishing it. "I just don't know what I missed . Or..." Maureen looks up. "Maybe my instincts are wrong . And he meant to do what he done. And he gave me his goodbye. "
Cynthia shakes her head and sips on her orange juice, watching Maureen, a bit concerned but mainly admiring the strength that the younger woman has about her. "Don't trouble yourself. Nothing about that sounds abnormal. You had a marvelous day alone with your husband, who you love. At least you didn't go out rowing. I just... it's hard to wrap my mind around him being so...I should know as well as anyone though, sometimes people are not the same at home. "
Maureen nods. "Thanks, Cyn. Sometimes I just can't help but feel guilty. Like that somehow me stayin' and trying on perfumes when I only have ever worn Tabu made a difference. I know it's worthless to blame anyone, including meself , because all I should worry about right now is moving on but I just want a solid reason. Sorry if I don't make sense I'm sort of. .." Maureen trails off. She's feeling a mix of emotions right then and shrugs, before taking a sip of her cider she's been nursing . Never much of a drinker but the prospect of what awaits her back at Abbey Road is daunting enough to warrant a half-pint.
"All over the place and then some if I had to guess. It's not even remotely the same, but when everything happened with John , I didn't know top from tail. " Cynthia pauses, looking like she doesn't want to say more. But she continues on. "My entire world changed. Again not nearly the same, not exactly, but I do in a very minor way, know how it is to not know if you're coming , going, or spinning in circles. You will find your feet though. With time. And in the meanwhile you grab whatever foothold or hand rail you need."
Maureen reaches over and grips Cynthia's hand. "Thank you. Not just for knowing exactly what to say but for showing up. I don't know who told you- though I want to bet it was George- but I'd not have blamed you if you'd told him to piss off. We all cut you off. I didn't want to, I hope you understand, but I should've tried harder to find you. On me own." The little bit of alcohol has tipped Maureen to a very introspective mood and a bit of embarrassment flairs at how it must seem to Cynthia that everyone abandoned her, while everyone (except John) has rallied around Maureen.
Cynthia returns the gesture, gripping Maureen’s hand tightly. "Please don't apologize. I've given myself some time to think, by swearing off dating and I've moved back to Liverpool. Going back home let me see things clearly. Those four lads have a bond we cannot understand. Never really will. And mixed with John's ability to influence and even intimidate a bit, when he said don't contact me, the rest had to listen. Paul broke long enough to check on me and Julian once but even he shied off. But I don't blame George nor Ringo for not challenging. And you and I were raised to know wife follows husband. It is changing - I'll raise Julian to see his wife as a true partner- but we're products of our times. So , maybe, in those first couple of months, it did hurt, I quickly figured out it wasn’t your fault. And when, yes, George called, all that was gone. You’ve lost your husband in a horrific way. Friendships don’t really break. We’d have found our way back to one another under happier circumstances later.” Cynthia runs her thumb lightly over Maureen’s knuckles and gives her hand one more firm squeeze.
Touched by Cynthia’s words, Maureen can't stop a small sniffle though she nods. She returns the hand squeeze and the two settle into a silence for a moment while Maureen nurses a few more sips of her cider before breaking the silence.
"You said you moved back home? I haven't been in ages, not for long. Is it changed much? "
"Some of the buildings and things, yeah but the people aren't a bit different. Open and honest. I really have had a lot of space to think. And Julian is settling in to his school well. And thriving. We've a small flat, two rooms, just north of Albert Dock. I'm thinking of renewing my teaching certificate. I’m working on becoming Ms. Cynthia Powell, no longer just 'the first Mrs John Lennon'. "
Maureen smiles, a true genuine smile. They are so very rare these days. "I'm truly thrilled for you. " A brief wistfulness crosses her face. "Please don't think me insensitive or too selfish, but there is a part of me that worries that I’ll always be ‘Ringo Starr’s widow’. I’m fine to keep the surname Starkey, because of the boys, but I just wonder if I’ll ever be seen as just Maureen again.”
“Make it happen. You’re just turned 23, you have a whole life ahead. If you don’t want to be someone, then don’t.” Cynthia looks at Maureen who looks like she's talking about walking to the moon. "Start with how you handle the rest of the meeting. If there's something you don't want to do..."
Maureen interrupts "They keep talking about a press conference. I'd rather just give a quick statement, for the papers. The truth, but keep it simple and quick .I've never liked having reporters and flashbulbs in my face, and I don't want this to become a spectacle."
"Then tell them that. Tell Paul that. He's who you have to convince. And if he insists, don't be part if it’s not for you. You need to do what’s best for you because that’s what’ll be best for those boys in the long run."
Maureen nods. "I'll try to be brave. It's so strange; I'm so good at being forthcoming in most cases but among those three, plus Yoko who just stares at me, and Linda who treats me like I'm Zak's age, I just can't find me voice."
"Well you'll have me. I'm coming back to that meeting with you. " Cynthia states like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I'd have been here sooner, but I couldn't get a train soon enough."
Maureen shakes her head. "No, Cynthia, I'm fine. I'm sure I'll be able to say what I need to say."
"I want to be there. I wouldn't have come if I didn't."
Maureen,touched by Cynthia’s generous spirit, just squeezes the elder woman's hand. "Thank you."
Cynthia smiles and returns the hand squeeze. "No thanks needed. Friendships do not break." She glances up at the clock at the back of the pub. "It's half-four. Let's get back to that mess, get that settled. So you can focus on truly important. "
Maureen nods. There really is so much more that is important to focus on, including the service the next day, getting the boys back, and getting her future back on track. With all that ahead of her and knowing she has Cynthia to back her, suddenly the rest of the meeting seems infinitely easier to face.