January 1, 1966

George woke up with a head throb to beat all.   He sat up on one elbow, wincing at the daylight, having fallen into bed and forgotten to draw the drapes.  “Ow,” he murmured, while rubbing his eyes and shading them from the intrusive sunlight.  “Jeez, what a night!”  Through half-mast eyes he spied the clock on the nightstand.  A little after 11:00 a.m.   He was now very glad that Pattie decided to go home with her sister.  He was not up to her chattering today.  What he needed was about four aspirin and another four hours sleep.

He got up and rummaged through the medicine cabinet in his bath while relieving himself at the same time.  “Shit, haven’t got any,” he mumbled.  He ambled down the hall to John’s room for some. 

The door was slightly open and he walked in, not even bothering to glance at the bed as he went into the loo.  “Ah, great!” he said.  John had a jumbo-sized bottle and George helped himself to four and swallowed them down with a full glass of water.  His tongue felt hairy.  He stuck it out at his reflection in the mirror.

Trying to be as quiet as he could as he left the room, he did a quick cursory glance at the bed and stopped dead in his tracks.  The familiar reddish curly hair -- he knew who she was immediately.

George quickly went round to John’s side of the bed, smacking John’s shoulder with the back of his hand.  “Are you out of yer fuckin’ mind?” he whispered urgently.  John barely responded and shooed him away with his arm, turning his head away from George toward the middle of the bed.

“Jesus!” George said as he rounded the bed again.  He went over to her and tapped her a little harder on the shoulder than he needed to.  She jumped and turned over to face her intruder, sitting up.  Her breasts were totally exposed to him, quite huge, and she didn’t even bother to lift the sheet.  While he was no prude when it came to making it with women, he had little use or respect for birds who gave it up to anyone who cared to see.  He liked a girl with a little modesty and eyes only for the man she was with.

“Good morning, George,” she said, cool as could be, as she reached for her cigarettes on the nightstand.  As she lit her cigarette, she gave George’s crotch an appraisal.  “Well, this room is certainly busier than Victoria Station.”

“What do you mean by that?” George asked, panic in his voice.

“Some girl was in here earlier, that dark-haired girl I’ve seen around.  Turned on the light and rudely pulled the blankets off of us.”

“Oh, damn.  John.  John!”  George reached across and shook John hard till he finally came awake.

“Goddamnit, George!  What, what?”  John did a quick assessment of George bending over the bed, then his eyes slowly glanced upward and saw what the situation was at his side as his head started to clear.

“Oh, Jesus.  Jesus!  Maureen, you have to leave, and I mean right now,” John said, bolting out of bed and quickly slipping on a pair of jeans.

“Excuse me?” she answered, more than a little annoyed.  “What in hell is going on here?  I’ve never been treated more rudely!”

“You don’t understand.  Whatever happened, and I’m not sure what did happen…well, it’s time to call it a night.”

“What is going on, John?”

“You have to leave, and I mean now.  Now, do ya hear?”

“Why, in heavens name?”

“I have a…”

George interrupted.  “John, I think she saw.”

“What?  ‘ow d’ya know?”

George just glanced over at the woman and smirked at her.

“Oh, you mean the little chippy in the red teddy?” she said with a defiant air.  “For a minute I thought she wanted a threesome till she ran out of the room.”

“Oh, Jesus, God!  No.”  John held his head and started pacing.  “So when the fuck are ya gettin’ up?  And don’t you ever refer to her as a chippy, ya got that?” he said, pointing his finger threateningly at her.

With a very smug look, she got up, unabashedly exposing all to George and said, “Well, it would seem Mr. Lennon is in love.  That would certainly explain a few things.”

George said, “I’ll go check on her, get this one out of here.”  As he left the room he gave her a look that let her know exactly what he thought of her.  George was very worried about Lee.  The poor girl probably cried herself sick.

Stopping in his room first to put on a pair of jeans, he reached her door and gently tapped on it.  “Lee, are you awake?  Can I come in?”  No answer.  He turned the doorknob.  The door yielded, and he went in.  The bed had definitely been slept in.  The closet door was open; it looked rummaged through, and some dresser drawers were left open.  She wasn’t in the loo.

George ran out and into the kitchen.  Empty.  He slowly turned the doorknob on Ringo’s door.  Both he and Mo were sound asleep.

George walked up to the bed and gently squeezed Ringo’s shoulder.  He opened his eyes immediately and George put his finger to his own lips and waved Ringo out of bed.  He got up immediately and slipped on his trousers and they quietly left the room.

“What’s up?” Ringo asked as he slowly shut the door behind him.  His voice was hoarse and his eyes bloodshot.

“John’s got Maureen Cleeve in his bed and Lee found them together.  I think she’s gone, Ritch.  Looks like she may have taken some clothes.”

“The bastard!  No, she wouldn’t leave.  Would she?  Did you look everywhere?”

“Everywhere but the music rooms.  Unless…no, she wouldn’t…”

“Wouldn’t what?”  George looked at Paul’s still-closed bedroom door.  Ritch went over, opened it, and glanced inside.  Paul was in bed, asleep and alone.  He quickly closed it again, shaking his head.

“Best to let that sleeping dog lie, at least for a while,” Ritch said.  “Come on, let’s check on the other side.  She might’ve fallen asleep on one of the couches.”

Once they were satisfied she was nowhere in the flat they headed back to John’s room.

“She still here?” George asked as they walked in, giving Maureen a pointed look.  John looked at Ring and wondered what was going on.  Why weren’t they keeping Lee out of here?

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” she said.  “George, wasn’t one of the first things Brian taught you was to be nice to the press?”

“Fuck the press.”

“Tsk, tsk.  Such bad manners.  Who said you were the quiet one?”  She walked over to John and touched her hand to his face, leaning in to kiss him, but John pulled away. 

“This is where we part company,” he said.  “Sorry.”

“She must really be something.  Don’t bother, I’ll let myself out,” she said, picking up her coat and bag and leaving the room.

As soon as she was gone, Ritch shoved John’s shoulder.  “What the fuck is wrong with you?  Here?  You do that here?”

“I swear to Christ, Ring, I don’t remember any of it.  Nothin’.  I don’t even remember comin’ in here, let alone if I was able to do anything.  That’s how bad off I was.”

“Doesn’t matter.  Lee saw you in bed together without a stitch on,” George reminded him.  “That image won’t be leaving her mind any time soon.”

John sat down on the bed and rubbed his face.  “Is she still asleep?  Is she all right?” he asked.  George and Ritch just looked to each other.  When they didn’t answer for a long time, John lifted his head.  “Is she not all right?  Tell me!”

“Truth is, John, we don’t know.  She’s not here.” Ringo said.

“Fuck!” John yelled, running from the room and straight to Lee’s, the other two right at his heels.  He paced about the room.  Lee was very neat, would never just leave drawers open like that.  Christ, she was always picking up after him, folding his clothes.  He went to the closet. 

Her luggage was in the back of the closet on the floor, but her overnighter was gone.  John always noticed it up on the shelf whenever she went into the closet.  She used it a lot when they’d all taken short weekend trips.

“She just took her weekend bag,” John said.  “She can’t have gone far, she doesn’t have much money.  Come on, help me out here.  Where is she?”

Ringo put an arm on John’s shoulder and said, “Come on, let’s go inside with a strong pot of tea and figure this out.”

As soon as they got into the kitchen, John buzzed the intercom to Neil and Mal.  They weren’t answering.  He kept his finger on the buzzer till he was sure it would wake the dead.  Finally, Neil answered, annoyed as hell.  “Do we never get a holiday up here?  We have dates here, ya know!”

“Send them on their way.  Lee is missing.  Have you seen or heard from her?”

“What?  No.  What do you mean missing?  Lee doesn’t go missing.  She’s the most responsible person I know.  What have you done, John?”

“Just get your asses down here,” John bellowed.

He sat down at the table and held his head.  “So why is the troublemaker, the one who started this bullshit to begin with, allowed to still be sleeping?”

“That’s a little unfair, John.  That incident isn’t what drove her out of here,” George reminded him.

“But it’s what started me off.   We were having the best night and I come in to his hands on her tits.  Do you have any idea what that girl means to me, and to find one of me best friends feeling her up?

Just then Paul opened the door, having heard the ruckus.  “John, I’m still not too clear, but I thought we settled this.  I’m sorry.  I was fucked out of me mind.”

“Oh yeah?  I’ve had me eye on you, friend, and you’ve been comin’ on to ‘er since we got back from New York.  Just because you can’t keep a fuckin’ grip on your own woman, it ain’t open season on mine!”

Ringo had had enough.  “John.  Stop it.  Now!   He was droonk and high, fer Chrissake.  We’ve all been there, and we’ve forgiven you plenty over the years.  We all love ‘er and she loves us and nothin’ woulda happened.  Believe me, I know!”

Turning on Ritch, John hissed at him through clenched teeth, “Oh yeah, right.  You hit on ‘er good ‘n proper the night before your own fuckin’ wedding, didn’ ya’?”

“The point is,” Ritch answered with authority, lowering his voice so is wife wouldn’t hear, “nothin’ happened.  She wouldn’t let it.  She’s a good girl and she’s crazy in love with you.  What the fuck were you thinkin’, takin’ someone right here, in our ‘ouse?  Fer her to see?”

“I wasn’t thinkin’, alright?  I already told you that.  I can’t remember a fuckin’ thing about it.”

“What are we talkin’ about here?” Paul asked John anxiously.  “Weren’t you in your room with Lee last night?  I heard you talkin’. Or rather, yellin’.”

“You did?  What did you hear?” John asked hopefully.

Paul frowned, rubbing his forehead.  “Something about, ‘if you want to stay, stay, just shut up and leave me the fuck alone.’  That’s all I could make out.  If it wasn’t Lee, then who was it?”

“Maureen Cleave,” George answered.  “Lee’s gone, Paul.”

“Gone?” Paul repeated in a whisper, bewildered look on his face.  “Gone where?”

“We don’t know.  Packed a bag and left.  Found them together in bed starkers.”

“And you just let her go?” Paul asked incredulously.

“We didn’t know,” George answered.  “Miss Cleave informed me that Lee saw them together.  John was down for the count, I had a hard time waking him.”

“Oh God, I feel terrible,” Paul said.  “Jeez.  Well, let’s make some calls.  She’s somewhere.  Someone has to know.  Does anyone know how long she’s been gone?”

“All I know is it was before daylight,” George said.  “Maureen said Lee turned on the light in the room and yanked the covers off them.”

“Christ,” John moaned, putting his head in his hands. 

“Come on,” Paul said.  “We’ll start with the doorman.”  They all went out to the hall desk and he got out their phone directory.  He dialed and waited, then noticed the necklace and ring John gave Lee sitting next to the pencil cup.  He quickly pocketed them, so John wouldn’t see. 

“Paul McCartney here, who am I speaking with?  Bill.  Yes, Happy New Year to you, too.  Bill, did you see Miss Mauro leave this morning?  Oh.  Early.  What time did you come on?  Okay, could you please get a hold of Frank and get back to me?  Ta.”  He hung up and turned to the others.  “Bill only came on at eight.  He’s checking with Frank and will call back.”

“I’m sure if I was at home,” Ringo said, “she would have come to me.  She’s not upstairs.  George, do you think she could have gone to Pattie?”

“I doubt it, they’re not really that close.  But I’ll give it a try.”

As George dialed Pattie, Mal and Neil came in, and Ringo filled them in.  Mal was very visibly upset as he was very fond of Lee. 

George hung up.  “Not there.”  Just as he hung up the phone, it rang.  “Hello?” he said into the receiver.  “Yes, Bill?  Uh-huh.  Yeah.  Okay, listen Bill, there’s a huge tip in this for both you and Frank if you get hold of the cab company and find out where she was dropped off.  Please, it’s very important.  Thanks.”  He smiled.  “At least a lead.  Frank said he put her in a taxi at about ten of six.  Didn’t hear the destination.  He did ask her if she was all right because her face was red and splotchy, but she said she had too much New Years Eve party and was visiting a friend.”

“Paul, what about Jane?” Ringo asked.

“I doubt that very much, but here’s her number.  I’m not callin’ her.”

As Ringo dialed, George asked “What about hopping a plane back to New York?”

John looked panic stricken at that suggestion.  “She doesn’t have that kind of money.

“She could always wire her father for it,” George added.

“Aren’t you cheerful?” Paul added. 

Neil ran to the desk and removed a strongbox from the rear of the bottom drawer.  He removed a bunch of keys from his pocket and unlocked it, shuffling through their passports.  He found Lee’s and held it up.  John let out an audible breath as he relieved Neil of it and stuffed it into his pocket.

“Not at Jane’s,” Ringo said, hanging up.

Neil said, “Oh, God,” and went for the other strongbox.  He opened it. “Damn!” he said, removing Lee’s  note and passing it around to them.  ‘I’ll pay you back,’ it said.

“So what was in there, a hundred pounds?” John asked.

“Try a thousand!” Neil said in exasperation.  “I just replaced it the other day.”

“Why would you keep so much in the fuckin’ desk, Nell?” John yelled.

“It’s the holidays, we were havin’ a big party, a lot of people to be tipped, deliveries to be paid for, what-not.  I can’t be standing on line at the bank every fuckin’ day!  Brian okays these amounts.  Just the week before we went through five hundred in four days.  It’s all on the up and up.”

John let out a hopeless cry and turned away from his friends, punching the wall and cracking the plaster and causing his knuckles to bleed.  He slumped down in the desk chair.

George shook his head and headed off to the kitchen, coming back with some ice wrapped in a dish rag.  He placed it on John’s bleeding hand, then patted his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, John,” he said.  “We’ll find ‘er and get ‘er home.  She’s a sensible girl, she won’t go far.  She’s just hurting and needs to cool off.  And when she does come home, there’ll be nothin’ said to her about this.  Understand?  She didn’t do anything wrong, no matter what you think.”

“I know she didn’t,” John said in a very low voice.  He could feel tears stinging his eyes, and quickly turned away from his mates, not wanting them to see anything remotely like crying.

***

Lee stood at the window looking out at the Thames.  She loved the Savoy because of the view, and she asked for the highest floor overlooking the river.  Heights reminded her of New York, and though she loved the little more provincial feel London had, she felt it was very like New York.  Not too many boats out today, it was New Years Day, after all.

When she got into the room, she threw down her bags, flung herself on the bed and cried for two hours straight.   How could he?  How?  She hadn’t touched Paul, he’d touched her, but he wasn’t in his right mind.  She didn’t encourage him, but maybe it was her fault.  Maybe it’s wrong for her to be living with them all like this.  Unnatural, somehow, all that familiarity.  She loved them all so much, she thought they were all handling it beautifully, their relationships.  It was fun, the flirting and the kissing.  It was living a perfect dream.  But maybe it was wrong and maybe it was her fault.  Her body convulsed and she gasped for air the way one does when one does a lot of heart-wrenching sobbing. 

Why do men have to push it to that final conclusion, every time, Lee wondered.  Can’t they just love or be fond of a girl and not have to fuck her?  Paul couldn’t have his own girl last night so that made his best friend’s girl fair game?  As much as she loved kissing and holding all of them -- it was like living in paradise, for God’s sake -- she didn’t want anyone but John touching her anywhere intimate.  She would never allow it.

Yet there he was, just hours after announcing to all at the party that she was his girl, in his bed, where they’d made love to each other countless times, their first time, fucking that old cow!  And he didn’t care if she found out about it.  He doesn’t love me, she thought miserably and the tears started again, clouding her vision.   Soon she was sobbing.

She couldn’t stay here.  It was the first place that came to mind, as they came here often for dinner and parties.  But it was probably one of the first places they would think to look for her.  She went to the bed and laid her head on the pillow trying to figure out what her next move would be.  Where could she possibly go?  Home, she supposed, but she didn’t have her passport.  She’d call the airlines and price a one-way ticket to New York. 

She hadn’t realized just how much money she had taken from the cashbox, and was a bit shocked when she went to pay for only one night’s stay here.  Almost eleven hundred pounds in her purse, mostly in small bills.  She could disappear for quite a time on this kind of money.  It would serve him right, the cheating bastard!  Let him be worried out of his gord!  She finally drifted off to sleep out of complete exhaustion.

***

“Wait a minute,” Ritch said, “We’re forgetting the obvious.  If she can’t go home to Daddy…”

“Yeah?” John asked.

“Well, what’s the next best thing she’s got to Daddy?”

“Brian!” they all said at once.

Neil knew the number offhand, as it was constantly being changed, just like theirs.  He spoke a few seconds to the butler, told him to tell Brian they were having an emergency if he called, then hung up, disappointed.

“Brian’s not been home at all.  Probably got lucky.  Lee’s not there.”

“Damn,” George said.  “Try Wendy.”

John finally lost his patience.  “I say we call the police.  Call fuckin’ Scotland Yard.  What do we pay all this tax for?”

“And tell them what, exactly?” Neil asked.  “That you fucked around on your girlfriend and she walked out?  Not exactly a crime, John.”

“They don’t have to know that part.  Just that she’s missin’.”

“This is a private matter.  If anything, if we don’t hear something soon, we could get a private investigator.  Brian would kill me if we brought the coppers into this.  We don’t have any reason to believe that she’s in any danger.   She left here with a lot of money, and she has a good head on her shoulders.”

“Fuck you, Neil!  You don’t know ‘er like I do.  She’s very emotional.  She could walk in front of a bus, be hit by a ca….” John turned white before he finished speaking and stormed out of the room.  They all got quiet, knowing full well that John was thinking about his mother, Julia, and how she died.

Ringo went into his own room to see if Mo was up yet.  He found her up and dressed and didn’t have to tell her much as she was able to overhear most of it during this last round of yelling.  He took her into the kitchen for some breakfast.

“You should stay, Ritchie.  I want to go home to the baby, but you should be here.  I can drive myself home just fine,” she said.

“Okay, luv, but you make sure you call me as soon as you get home.”

***

John lay curled up on his bed in a fetal position.  Ringo stepped in and closed the door behind him, then sat down on the bed beside him.  He turned to see who it was.

“I’m sorry, Ritch, everything I said before.  Everything is always everyone else’s fault except me own.  That girl’s the best thing to happen to me since you lot, and here I am, fuckin’ it all up.  All of it.”

Ringo sighed, reaching in his pocket for his cigarettes and put two in his mouth, lighting both and handing one to John.  John took it and sat up, hugging his knees to his chest.

“You’re not completely wrong about me, John.  I’m a bastard too.  The night before me wedding, when I was with ‘er and I was supposed to be telling her about it…”  Ritch hesitated, not believing what he was about to admit.  “When I was with ‘er, I was trying me damnedest to make ‘er.  If she’d have given in, I was all prepared to tell Mo it was off – that I would take care of her and the baby, but that I couldn’t go through with it because I loved someone else.   It wouldn’t be fair to ‘er.”  Ritch took a long drag on his cigarette.

“But Lee wouldn’t have me, wouldn’t let me touch ‘er.  I already knew she loved you, but I didn’t appreciate quite how much till that night.  I knew then it was all pointless and I might as well pack in and just do the right thing.  But I’m no saint either.  We’re all selfish bastards when it comes to getting what we really want.”

“Now, why does that bother me less than what Paul did?” John asked.  “She loves ya a lot.  You could have taken her from me.”

“Because you did the movin’ in on me.  But she really wanted you.  Nothin’ you can really do about that except bow out.  Now do you really think she would’ve given Paul the green light?  Really?”

“No, but…”

“But it’s Paul.  Are you the only one who doesn’t realize the competition between you?  In everything?  I don’t think Paul will ever love any woman as much as he loves his working relationship with you.  And Jane is obviously not worshipping the ground he walks on.   He wants what you have with Lee.  He doesn’t want Lee.”

“Where’d you get all this wisdom, ya’ runt bastard?” John smiled.

“Maybe me best friend,” Ritch said, as he got up and headed toward the door.  “While you’re restin’, wrack that busy brain of yours and come up with somewhere she might have gone.  We’re running out of people to call."

***

Ringo went outside to the others.  “Anything?” he asked.  Everyone just mumbled in the negative. 

“’ey Ritch, guys?” Paul said in a very low voice.  “Look what I found here on the desk.”  He held up the ring and necklace. 

“Oh, he’s in for a long haul.  She never takes that ring off,” Neil said.

***

John sat there in his room, remembering the first times he and Lee really got into it – their reunion in the hotel room in Melbourne, before Paul interrupted them (Paul again!) was the first time he felt sure she might really be in love with him and not Ritch.  She had stayed behind with Ritch when he was sick, and John had been beside himself during the early part of that tour, worried that he might get to her first.

He had been doing everything to excess – the booze, pills, women.  Anything to keep his mind off what she might be doing with him in London.  John used to keep track of the looks and remarks the birds made when they left the hotel suites in the morning, and apparently their drummer was quite the cocksman.  He was so relieved she hadn’t let him touch her.  He wasn’t quite sure why he knew this to be absolutely true.  He just did.

John smiled as he remembered a night, not too long after they took her back home to London with them for good.  It was the first time they found themselves truly alone together since Paulus interruptus.  They’d come home together from a sort of date.  It was late, and they started a great snoggin’ in the hallway outside the flat, him grinding away at her, and he didn’t want to go inside as he didn’t know if anyone was at home.

She, on the other hand, was nervous about getting caught in the hallway, especially by Ring if he came off the lift, and she wanted to go inside, but he kept holding her back from going in, turning up the heat, trying to take them to the next step.  At least a bit of pie.  He knew he had to go slow with her.  She was so young and conflicted.  But he also knew what he wanted and was determined to start sampling the goods and staking his claim.

She finally persuaded him to go inside.  As luck would have it, no one was at home.  John tried coaxing her into his room, but she pulled him toward one of the sofas instead.  She was always mindful of not hurting Ring’s feelings should he find them together.

He’d removed his suit jacket and tie, undid some buttons and his shirtsleeves and plopped himself in a prone position as he kicked off his boots, staring up at her defiantly.  She had laughed and said, “Well, ya didn’t leave me any room, did ya?”

“Depends on how you look at it.  I see it like this,” he said as he took her hands and pulled her down on top of him, adjusting her hips against him, just where he wanted her.

He took her face in his hands, pushing her hair back and out of their way, and kissed her slowly and lovingly.  She melted against him and responded with fervor as he began arching his pelvis up against her.  Soon she was matching him, stroke for stroke, both of them lost in their desire.

After a time, he knew he’d better stop or he’s spurt like a kid.  He moved a bit to make room for her and slid her off, between him and the back of the sofa, lying on her side in the crook of his arm.  He unbuttoned her blouse slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, and unhooked the bra expertly with one hand. 

“I see that practice has made perfect,” she kidded. 

“It’s my profession,” he responded.

“You mean there’s a living in this?” she asked.

“Only if you have money.”

“’fraid I don’t,” she said pouting her lips.

“Then we’ll just have to take it out in trade.”  His mouth kissed and sucked one breast as he rubbed the palm of his hand tautly against her other nipple.  She moaned in sheer pleasure and was completely relaxed as she held his head to her chest.  They had, after all, done this before.  He then slid his hand down her hip and thigh and up under her skirt.  When he tried to slide his hand between her thighs, she tensed and tightened up on him.

“It’s okay, baby, I won’t hurt you, I promise.”  It had been a warm September night and she’d worn sandals and no stockings and there was nothing between his probing fingers and her bikini knickers.  She said someone might come in, but he assured her they would have plenty of time to adjust themselves.  He slid his fingers under the waistband and slowly slid the knickers down.  He felt her tremble at being exposed to him there for the first time, and he slid his hand down on her, stroking her gently.  “Relax,” he whispered, as her slippery wetness coated his fingers.  She hid her face in his chest.

 “What is it?” he asked patiently, kissing her forehead.  “You’re beautiful.  No need to hide, luv.”

“I’m so…”

“So…what?  Wet?”

She nodded her head in mortification.  He laughed from deep in his throat.  “All perfectly normal.  It means that you’re not a frigid bitch, like some.  You want me as much as I want you.  And I want you so bad.  Now come ‘ed and kiss me,” he demanded.  She touched her hand to his face, almost in awe, and their tongues met and his fingers parted her, stroked her gently, and she gasped in surprise.

“Okay?” he asked, trying to give her what he knew she needed, yet not wanting to scare her off.

“My God,” she sighed, as she thrust herself against his fingers, slowly at first.  Shyly.  Then so urgently, she surprised even him.  He stroked, rubbed, whispered sweet encouragements in her ear, ‘til he knew she couldn’t take any more. 

“It’s okay, baby, I’m here for you,” he said, as her moved his hand faster and harder.  Her breath was coming in short gasps, her face flushed and her eyes glazed over.  “Okay, baby, come on now, you come for me.”  He actually felt the explosion in her, the rhythmic spasms as she surrendered herself to him completely.  She started to weep gently, and he held her close and rocked her and stroked her hair.

“Shhh,” he whispered in her ear.  “What’s all this?  No need.  It’s how it works.”

“I know that,” she whispered, hiding her face from him again.

He lifted her chin so she had to look in his eyes.  “And just how would you know that?”

“It’s not as if it hasn’t happened before, though never quite like that, so intense.”

“Oh yeah?  With whom?”

“You, of course.  That night we snogged in my bed before the tour, for one, when Ritchie was in the hospital.”

“Ha! Thought so.  I wanted to leave ya’ with something to remember.  Was that the only time?”

“Of course not, silly.  Anytime you come near me, and it doesn’t take much to put me over the brink.  But this was the most…”

“Hmm.  Interestin’.  How about alone?” he asked leeringly.  He always had to know all the lurid details.

“John!” she said indignantly, blushing.

“Well, I like to know.”  She stifled a smile and put her head down, not looking at him.  “You naughty girl!” he said, tickling her ribs.  “Were you thinkin’ about me?”

“John!”

“Well, were ya?”

“Yes, yes!  Happy?”

He laughed and hugged her to him.  “Tell ya a secret.  That night before the tour?  Ya made me come in me pants, too.  Couldn’t get ye out of me mind the whole time we were gone.  I…”  He cut himself off and began kissing her again passionately.  She kissed him back with such urgency, that one would not believe that he had left her satisfied and spent not five minutes before.  She began slowly and hesitantly sliding her hand up and down his thigh.

With every stroke of her hand she went higher up his leg, stoking his fire, getting closer and closer.  He felt the tremor in her hand.  She was unsure of herself and what to do, not yet finding him.

“John, I…” 

He covered her hand with his, rubbed it gently and slowly guided it to him.  “I’m up here, baby.  See what you do to me?” he said as he moved her hand in a stroking motion.  He relaxed and moaned in pleasure as she assumed the movements on her own.  “That’s good, baby.  So good…”

It soon became apparent that she wanted to do some ‘exploring’ of her own.  She made feeble attempts to unfasten his trousers, which had two slide hooks that her one free shaking hand could not get undone, so she went for the zipper, but then still had no luck with the hooks.  “John, I…”

“Wait a mo’,” he said.  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Looking directly into his eyes, she answered, “Yes.”  He undid his pants and adjusted himself.  She averted her eyes.  He took her shaking hand again and guided it to him, this time making her fingers grip him tightly.  She gasped.

“What is it?”

“So big.”

“Why, thank you, madam.”

“I mean, how does that ever possibly fit…”

“Don’t worry, we manage,” he laughed.  She resumed the movement he taught her.

As he stroked her hair and urged her on, he said, “It’s okay to have a look, ya know luv.  It’s all part of the game, the pleasure.” 

He could see her summoning her courage and she lifted herself a bit and looked down at him, while her hand never stopped pleasuring him.  “Oh, John.  I don’t know what I expected.  He’s so beautiful.  It looks like velvet.” 

Then she did the most shocking thing she ever did to him, even up to now, given her inexperience.  She bent down and kissed it gently.  It got him so excited and almost to the edge that he got his handkerchief from his pocket in anticipation.

It wasn’t long after that.  He murmured, “Don’t stop,” placing his hand over hers, and cried out as his orgasm overtook him.  If she was surprised at the length and intensity of it, she’d have been right.  He didn’t ever remember coming so hard.  What was this little girl doing to him?

After adjusting himself and zipping up, he pulled her close and kissed her forehead.  “That was bloody fantastic!” he said.

“John, you’ve had so many girls…how…”

“Hush up.  You were incredible.  We have all the time in the world for that.”

They heard the locks turning in the door.  Lee jumped up, buttoning up her blouse and grabbing for her knickers, but John got to them first, getting them over her feet and stuffing them quickly into his pocket, laughing hysterically.  They jumped apart, sitting about three feet from each other, giggling all the while.

It turned out to be George, who sussed them out for a few seconds, then winked at her and said, “Don’t look so guilty.  It’s a dead giveaway!”  He smiled and sauntered off to his room.  Then from the hallway he yelled, “And yer bra is hangin’ out yer sleeve!”

All three of them had hysterics.

Lee said to John, “May I please have my…”

“Not on your life,” John said, running off.  They both had hysterics again and she chased him to his room, but he locked the door on her.

“Thief!” she said, banging on the door.

“I’m running these up a flagpole!  Quite a trophy.”

She kept at the door, but he wouldn’t let her in.  She decided to go through her room, on the balcony.  John never kept that door locked. 

She found him already out there, leaning over the railing and smoking a cigarette.  He was lost in thought, and she touched his arm.  He immediately put his arm around her and pulled her close.  He flicked his ashes and took another drag.

“Ya know,” he started, “when I was a kid, there was an older girl I knew that I had a hard-on for.  She was about your age at the time, I was maybe fifteen.  We were in the parlor at Mendips, Mimi was out somewhere that night.  We got to snoggin’ and I had to do a lot of persuading to get her to do, well, what we just did.  Like she was doing me this great big favor, and she made sure she got hers first.  Taught me quite a bit, and I had a raging hard-on, I was so ready.  She finally unzips me, and makes this face and says ‘Now isn’t that a great hideous thing?’  I went limp in two seconds.  I threw her out.”

“Oh, John,” Lee said, hugging his waist.

“Shook my confidence, I don’t mind tellin’ ya.”

“I’ll bet she’s kicking herself now, but good, and pining away for that great hideous thing!”

“Ya know, every time I’m with a new girl, that incident comes to mind, and you…you fuckin’ amazed me tonight.  What you did and said…”

“I was so scared, I didn’t know what to do.  Didn’t know if I would hurt you.  Growing up you always hear about how ‘sensitive’ and out of control boys are there.  I was so afraid it would be ugly, but it was perfectly beautiful.  I was so relieved.  I hope you don’t think what I did was slutty or unladylike, but I read a romance novel once, and it said the man was so pleased with that.  I wanted to please you, I hope you don’t think badly of me.”  Lee stared up at him, all wide-eyed and innocent still, not even realizing that he had robbed her of a great deal of innocence that night. 

“You have no idea how much you pleased me tonight.”  He put out his cigarette and flicked it over the side before taking her face in his hands and kissing her as tenderly as he possibly could, and holding her tightly to him.  Then, never one to let a joke by, whispered in her ear, “And you’re not wearing any knickers!”

She whispered back in his ear, “Bastard!”  They laughed and hugged.

***

John sat on the bed remembering that night, which now seemed so long ago, and his tears finally came.  He had to find her, tell her what a selfish, jealous prick he was, make her forgive him.  He couldn’t lose her.  He wouldn’t.

He got himself up and went inside to the others, who were sitting on and around the desk, willing the phone to ring.

“Did you call everyone?” he asked.

“And their sister,” Mal answered.

“The doorman?” John asked.

“Nothing yet.” Ringo said.  Just then the phone rang.  John lunged for it.

“Hello?”  The line was silent.  “Hello?  Is anyone there?  Lee?  Baby, is that you?  Please say something.   I’m so sorry, listen, please, tell me where you are.  I’ll come get you.  Talk to me, goddamnit!”  He heard a click and the dial tone came on.

“Fuck!” he said, slamming down the receiver.  “I know it was her.  I know it.  I heard her breathing.”

“Well, if it was,” George said, “she called and obviously didn’t want to speak to you.  So don’t you answer the phone again.  She might’ve said something to one of us.”

He was about to be confrontational with George, but then sank resignedly into the chair and said, “You’re right.”

During this exchange, Brian let himself in with his key.  He stood there facing them all.  “Would somebody mind telling me what is going on here?”

The phone rang again before anyone could tell him.  “Ritch, you answer it,” John said.

Ringo picked up the phone.  “Hello?  Yes, Bill.  What did you find out?  Yeah.  Really?  That’s great.  Great!  Tell the others there’ll be something for New Year’s in their Christmas stockings.  Thank you.”  He hung up.  “Neil, take care of them please.  Mal, you bring the car around.”

They all started speaking at once – “Whoa!” “Wait a minute.”  “Where is she?”

“The cabbie log shows she was picked up here and dropped off a little after six at the Savoy.”

“Thank God,” John said, as he breathed a sigh of relief.  “Okay, let me get me shoes and…”

“You’re not goin’ anywhere,” Ringo said, looking him straight in the eye.  “Are you kidding me?  You’re the last person she wants to see right now.  She might not even want to see us.”

“Well, she’s seein’ somebody.  I’m not just gonna leave ‘er there alone.  No way.”

“Let us go there and talk to her first,” Ringo said.  “I’m sure Mal and I can persuade her to come home.  Maybe she just needs a couple of days apart from you, John.  After what you put her through, I think she’s entitled.  I just want to see her and make sure she’s okay.”

The phone rang again.  This time, George picked it up.  “Hello?”  There was a long pause.  “Lee?”

“Hi George,” she answered, almost in a whisper. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in relief.  “Baby, I know how much you must be hurting, but we’re all so worried about you.”  Brian was gesturing and mouthing to George not to let on that they knew where she was.

“I know, that’s part of the reason I called,” she said.  “I’m letting you know that I’m in one piece, no need to panic.”

“John is beside himself.”

“Don’t you dare put him on.  I mean it!”

“Okay, whatever you say.  Can I come see you?  Please?”

“No!”  She started to whimper.  “I love you, George.”

“I love you too.  Please, let me…”

She interrupted him.  “May I please speak to Neil?”

“Neil?” he repeated, bewildered.

“Yes, please.”

“Hold on,” George said, passing the phone to Neil.  By this time John was ready to start punching walls again.  They all crowded around, straining to hear her.

“Hi, love.  Are you all right?”

“Yes.  Look, I know this is asking a lot, but I know you have the key to the passport box and I’d like you to bring mine to me.  Alone, please.”

Neil hesitated before answering.  “You do realize that if I did a thing like that it would cost me my job.  Is that what you want?”

“No, of course not, but it is mine, after all, and…and I want to go home.  Please, Neil?”  She started to cry.

“Please don’t cry.  I couldn’t, even if I wanted to, babe.  John already took it from me.”

“So now I’m a prisoner?” 

“No, of course not.  But don’t you think you at least owe it to them and yourself to talk to somebody first?  Brian’s here, he’s very concerned about you.  We all are.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.  John doesn’t love me.  I’ve just been his little folly for coming up on a couple of years now.”

“Well, you know Ritch loves you, and Mal adores you.  Why don’t you meet them somewhere and talk this out a bit, and if you still want to go…”

“No.  They will just try to talk me into continuing to be a colossal ass.  And I won’t.  Now are you going to help me or not?”

“I’m sorry.  I can’t.  Why don’t you tell John how you feel, and if he gives it up, I’ll bring it to you, and I swear to you I will not tell them where you are.  I promise, on our friendship.”

Lee was quiet for a while.  “Goodbye, Neil,” she finally said.  The line went dead.

Neil hung up and lifted his hands in resignation.  “You heard.  She said John doesn’t love her, that she was just his little folly for two years.”

“That’s it!  John said.  “Mal, get the fuckin’ car, now!”

“Give her some time, John, please,” Ritch implored.

“No!  We three are goin’ and that’s it.”  John went off to get socks and shoes on his feet, mumbling, “Folly…don’t love her.  Yeah, that’s why I put meself through the ringer in New York.  Don’t fucking love her…”

Ringo shook his head and said, “Get the car, Mal.  We’ll meet you down.”

***

When she woke up she was so dry, dehydrated from the drinking she had done the night before, and also a bit hungry.  She never ate at the party because she was so busy all night.  She decided to go down to one of the restaurants and have something to eat. 

She was surprised when she ran into Mick Jagger as she was being shown to a table.  This was not good.   He was with a couple of people she didn’t know, a man and a woman, cousins of his, it turned out. 

He was equally surprised at seeing her there alone and asked a million questions, which she managed to slide by and he asked her to join them.  Not knowing how to get out of it gracefully, she sat with them, trying to participate in the conversation, laughing in the right places and making small talk. 

When she finished her meal, they all got up and walked toward the lifts together.  Mick put an arm on her shoulder.  He said, “Oh, you have a room.  Is John here too?” 

“I’m expecting him later,” she answered evasively.  They said their goodbyes as he got off on a lower floor.

During the meal, her mind was racing and she had pretty much decided she would try to get a hold of her passport and just go home.  That line kept reverberating in her head, “There’s nothing for me here, so I will disappear.”

Lee knew it was a mistake to call, but she had to give it a try.  That first call, hearing his voice, she just froze, putting her hand to her mouth so nothing could possibly escape.  The reason she didn’t hang up immediately was she was so tempted to scream, to call him every evil name under the sun.

Did Neil believe for one second that she trusted him not to tell them where she was?  Their exclusive men’s club was tighter than the Cosa Nostra.  Their loyalty to each other was phenomenal, and she took a lot of pride in it until she was on the receiving end.  So going home right now was out of the question.

She supposed she could go to the American Embassy and report a lost passport, but she had no other identification with her, and then the hassles, and them probably contacting her family made the effort pointless.  She didn’t want her father to know what had happened. 

It was also becoming clear that she had to get out of this room, now that Mick had seen her.  Dammit, she was still protecting him at a time when he didn’t deserve protecting.  She hated herself for loving him so much, even now that he thought he could do this to her right under her nose.

After a little more thought, she decided where she could go to get her head together.

She went into the bathroom to freshen up, came out, picked up her bags, and left the room.  When she passed the front desk, she dropped her room key on the counter and said simply, “Checking out.”

***

Ringo, John and Mal arrived in the lobby not ten minutes after Lee left. 

“Listen, hothead,” Ritch said, putting out a hand to stop John from rushing the desk, “let me handle this.”  He went up to the clerk.  “Hi, there,” he said.

“Mr. Starr!  Good to see you again, sir.  What can I do for you?”  He nodded at John, who was barely under control.  “Mr. Lennon, good to see you too.” 

Ringo put out his hand for the clerk to shake and passed the money into his hand.

“I’m supposed to meet a young lady, here, I’m sure you understand.  She never called me with the room number.”

“Yes, of course, sir.  What name did she check in under?”

“Try Mauro.”

“Mauro, Mauro.  No, I’m sorry, no Mauro.”

“Thisby,” John stated simply.

“Sorry, sir?”

“Try Thisby,” he repeated.

“Thisby, yes,” the clerk said.  “She just checked out. I saw her earlier with Mr. Jagger and another couple.  She just dropped off the key, not ten minutes ago.”

“Mr. Jagger, did you say?” John said, trying to keep a grip.

“Yes, sir, Mick Jagger.”

“And what’s his room number?”

“Well, the people he was with are in 1204.  Is something wrong, sir?”

“No, nothing at all,” John said, turning beet red.  “Thank you for your help.”

The three of them headed for the lift.  “I know you, John.  Don’t assume anything,” Ringo cautioned.  “Remember who we’re talking about.”

Go Read Part Three!

Lena King a New York State Supreme Court Clerk, and she loves her job.  In a prior incarnation she worked as a secretary and married quite young (twenty) to a Beatle person (twenty-one), a match made in Beatle heaven, or so she thought.  Would you believe his birthday was July 7th?  Typically, he had is mid-life crisis at thirty.  He got his new trollop and she got their beautiful daughter, who ironically, is now twenty years old.  She knows almost as much about the Fabs as her mother does, whether she likes it or not.  (She does.)  "How did they get outside the train mommy?" she giggled at four.  She's been spoon fed the stuff ever since.

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