"Accompany me to the rooftop, my dear?" I asked Cilla, offering an arm for her to take.

She smiled at me, finishing her current glass of champagne and taking my arm. I took a quick glance around the room and spied Cynthia following pretty close behind, still chatting with Dusty Springfield. It wasn't that I wanted to hide from Cynthia, I wasn't ( Read more... )

I tucked into my bowl of cold cornflakes, enjoying the crunch of them in my mouth. I hadn't had a bowl in a long while. And the milk was just cold enough, and the flakes just crispy enough... I smiled at the taste and texture of one of my favorite foods. I glanced around the kitchen, studying the furnishing of it. It was so huge. And Cynthia didn't ( Read more... )

After I had locked myself in my bedroom, I immediately had to call someone... anyone. Tears were pouring down my face, I could barely speak but I needed someone. I decided to phone Maureen. Being the most rational out of all of us, I figured she would be able to try and make some sense of this situation I had been placed in ( Read more... )

I needed to talk to someone about this whole Bob Dylan thing. It had been over a week since the premiere and I was starting to believe that I would truly go mad if I didn't stop bottling up such a devastating secret. I had merely been going through the motions of looking after Julian, eating and sleeping. Sometimes if I was lucky, or unlucky, ( Read more... )

 My eyes fluttered open. I rolled over in the bed I shared with my wife, expecting her warm heat next to me. Her clean smell, her small frame lying there, so familiar and normal... I wished it could be Paul, but... the circumstances being what they were, I would take my spot in Cynthia's bed and be content. But where her familiar presence SHOULD ( Read more... )

I felt a tidal wave of relief wash over me as I finally escaped the hotel dining room. After over half an hour of picking at my food unenthusiastically, I was beginning to fear that I was never going to be able to slip away ( Read more... )

 I stepped out of the car and held Pattie's hand as we were quickly hearded inside the building. The lobby was large and impressive, but I didn't have time to look much as we were escorted to a conference room down the hall. I gave a nervous glance back at Ringo and Paul, and suddenly I wished Brian wasn't holed up in the bathroom. People were ( Read more... )

I stared blankly at my reflection in the large mirror over the sink. I almost wished it was one of those cracked mirrors reflecting the light from the single, flickering yellow bulb I remembered in the bathrooms in Hamburg the time I'd visited John there. That would have seemed a lot more fitting somehow. Instead, it was bordered by a posh silver ( Read more... )

Leaning back in my seat in the limousine, I watched as the streets of London rolled past outside. We were still on Piccadilly, not that far past St. James Park, and already I could see the crowds gathering on the pavements. Before leaving Whaddon House I had heard on the radio that there were an estimated 12,000 people on the streets around ( Read more... )