Mind Games

By Angel Godiva

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“Mary! Cn’ ye help me with summat?” called John as he came in the front door. “I need ye t’hold th’ fuckin’ door so I cn’ get all this gear inta th’ house!”

“I’ll be right there!” she called. Turning to three-year-old Julia, who was sitting at the table pushing the vegetables about on her plate, she told her to finish and no more nonsense, then she went to help her husband.

“C’mon,” he said, trying unsuccessfully to hold the door with one hand and lug in a large trunk with the other.

“Okay, I’ll get it--what’s in the trunk, anyhow?”

He backed into the room, dragging the trunk behind him, letting it rest in the middle of the hallway. He raised his head and grinned at Mary. His glasses were slipping and he pushed them back up to their rightful place and sat upon the trunk, patting it affectionately.

“It’s for Julia,” he said proudly, “For her birthday Monday next. I had it made for th’ little lass.”

As if on cue, Julia came running into the hall and hurled herself into John’s arms.

“Daddy!” she squealed, hugging him fiercely around the neck and covering his cheek with wet little kisses, “I missed you! Didya bring me anything? What’s in this big box?”

“That’s for me to know, little Miss Nosy,” he replied, swinging the girl up and sitting her on his shoulder. “Ye’ll find out soon enough. Now, have ye been a good girl today?”

“I been VERY good,” she assured him. “Honest.”

“Oh, well then,” he said in a serious voice, “In that case, I think I might have somethin’ for ye. Tell me, did ye finish yer supper?”

Julia hesitated, then said, “Yessss...”

Carrying her into the kitchen, John sat her down at the table again. “Hmm,” he said thoughtfully, “I guess Mummy didn’t finish her vegetables, then, ‘cos I see some carrots on this plate here.”

Julia looked up at him, her blue eyes wide and earnest. “Oh, no, Daddy,” she replied, “Those were mine, but I was savin’ ‘em for you, ‘cos I know how you like carrots!”

“Oh, well, thank you, Miss Julia. Tell ye what,” whispered John conspiratorily, “I’ll have a bite, then you have one, and we’ll share. How would that be?”

“Oh, okay. You first!” the child chirped, and she popped a carrot slice into his open mouth.

“Mmmmm, not bad,” he said. “Now you.” He popped one into her little mouth.

Mary stood in the doorway, watching them. No one would ever guess that John was not really Julia’s father, or that he had been worried about whether he would be able to relate to a child. They were sitting now, heads together, thick as thieves, whispering to one another like two children.  John adored the child, and she loved him madly as well. Once the carrots were gone, John gave the little girl a handful of chocolate kisses and set her upon her feet.

“Go off an’ play in yer room now,” he told her. “I need t’talk t’Mummy. I’ll be in t’see ye in a little bit.”

“Okay, Daddy--don’t take too long!” she called as she ran off to play. He watched her until she had gone around the corner, then turned his attention to Mary. Immediately, his smile turned lecherous.

“Can I sit on your lap now, Daddy?” asked Mary.

John grabbed her arm and pulled her down. “Why, of course! Sit right on down an’ tell Daddy if ye’ve been good today,” he purred, burying his face in her hair.

Mary lifted his chin and kissed him gently. He seized her and kissed her deeply, running his hands insistently over her body, his warm tongue exploring her mouth lazily. From her position in his lap, she could definitely feel the effect the kiss was having upon him, and she responded to him hungrily.

After a moment, she wiggled out of his arms and stood up, smoothing her skirt primly. “Behave, lover boy,” she said breathlessly. “There will be plenty of time for that later. For now, tell me; what is in that gigantic trunk?”

“Oh, it’s great,” he said enthusiastically, “It’s a dollhouse, a fuckin’ huge thing, with all the furniture, an’ real electric lights, all th’ bells an’ whistles. She’s gonna love it! It looks just like this house, an’ it’s got th’ little family who lives there...I’ll show it to ye later, after she goes t’bed.” He grabbed Mary’s hand and pulled her close again. “Then, after that, I’ll show ye what I brought home for you,” he added with a mischievous wink.

“Ooh, I can’t wait,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I missed you today, too. How long is it going to be until the album is done? I think we need some time to get away, don’t you?”

“I couldn’t agree more. It’s weird, Mary; th’ fun’s kinda gone out o’ the whole process, an’ th’ lads’re not gettin’ along as they should. A couple o’times today, I thought that me an’ Paul were gonna come t’ blows. George is goin’ about with his lower lip draggin’ on th’ floor, and Ritch is just sittin’ there lookin’ more morose than ever, if ye cn’ imagine that, watchin’ it all fall apart. Maybe after this record is done an’ we’ve been away from each other for awhile, we’ll be able t’ work th’ way we used to.” He sighed heavily, and Mary thought that he looked more tired than she’d ever seen him look before. He stood up and stretched, and Mary patted his backside.

“Why don’t you go see Julia,” she suggested. “I’ll run a bath for you, then after that I’ll get your supper on the table; or would you rather eat first?”

“No, a bath sounds good, actually,” he replied. “I could use a nice, warm soak. Suppose I read Julia a story and sing her a song, then ye cn’ join me in th’ tub? How would that be?”

Mary ruffled his hair. “You go on and get our girl to bed, and I’ll do anything you like, my love,” she replied. “I’ll go start the water running.”

John trotted down the hall and disappeared around the corner, and Mary went into the bath off their bedroom and started the water running in the big, oval, double sized bathtub. It would take a while to fill, so she went back out into the hall to check on John and Julia.

“Tell me the poem with the elephants in it!” Julia was saying.

John recited:

“All those many years ago, when I was just a kid

I never saw me father, but I heard of things he did.

Each week he wrote from anywhere he’d ended up at last;

He’d tell us his adventures, both the present and the past.

 

The letters came from near and far and all points in between

Explaining just what Dad had done and all that he had seen.

He met a man in China who was livin’ in a tree

And he asked Dad to visit, and he served exotic tea.

 

There was lady out in France to whom Dad took a fancy,

She danced ballet and acted some; I think her name was Francie.

Her father drooled most copiously, a stream so long and thin

That by necessity they hung a bucket ‘neath his chin.

 

From far and wide the mail poured in, with no return address;

No way of knowing where Dad was . It caused us so much stress!

So we’d just wait, and sure enough, most every week he’d write us

To tell of this new friend or that and ! generally delight us.

 

Dad traveled last to India, he stayed there overlong.

He bought a princely palace and he bought it for a song.

Our Dad had herds of elephants and every day he’d ride ‘em

To keep the beasts from runnin’ off, each trunk to tail he tied ‘em.

 

While on a break from ridin’ one, Dad rested on the ground

When the pachyderm in question took a notion to sit down.

There wasn’t too much left of Dad, they sent him in a letter;

We buried him in our back yard. Now, he stays put much better.”

“That didn’t really happen, did it, Daddy?” the girl asked after John had finished reciting the poem. “They couldn’t really send their Daddy in a letter.”

“Why, of course not. It’s a story, is all,” he replied. “Ye know that. I tell ye every time, sillybug!”

“Good. Cuz if a elephant really sat on him, it would really hurt him, Daddy. If it’s just a story, though, it’s funny.”

“Yeah, well, that’s all it is, honeypie, a silly, funny story. Shall I call Mummy to kiss ye goodnight?”

“Here I am,” said Mary, coming into the room. “How’s my baby -- did Daddy tell you a good story?”

“Oh, yes, it was the elephant story,” the little girl declared. “That’s one of my best favorites. Only I’m not a baby, Mummy. I’ll be four -- how many days later?”

“Nine more days,” replied Mary, bending to kiss her daughter’s cheek. “There’s my big girl. Goodnight, love. See you in the morning.”

“G’night,Mummy,” replied Julia. John bent to kiss her on her forehead, and she patted his cheek. “G’night, Daddy,” she said.

“G’night, love,” said John. “Have a good dream.”

“Don’t shut the door all the way, Daddy!” called Julia as John and Mary left the room.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, love,” he said. “Sleep well!” He carefully left the door ajar.

“Come on, John, the bath is ready,” Mary said softly.

“Oooh, got anythin’ ye need help washin’?”

***

John took the dolls out of their box and showed them to Mary after dinner.

“See?” he asked, “Don’t they look like us?”

The dolls did, indeed, resemble them. He reached into the box and took out a little girl doll with long, blonde hair. “An’ here’s Julia,” he continued. He put the little girl doll in one of the bedrooms. “She’s gone off t’bed, an’ Mummy Mary an’ Daddy John are all clean, dinner’s over, an’ Daddy John is gettin’ a bit wearified.”

“No wonder, the way he carried on in the bath,” replied Mary. “It’s a wonder he’s not exhausted.”

“Oh, that was just an appetizer,” he said, picking up the Mummy and Daddy dolls again. He began to mash their faces together and make kissing noises. When he started removing their clothing, Mary stopped him, tears of laughter running down her face.

“Okay, okay, I get the idea,” she gasped. “Put your dolls away, John, and I’ll make sure the doors are locked and meet you in the bedroom. I’ll give you a nice back rub, how would that be?”

He grinned and rubbed his hands together with a delighted chuckle. “Great,” he replied. “I’ll be there straight away.”

***

Mary oiled her hands and began to massage John’s back, kneading the flesh slowly, rubbing in wide circles. He let out a satisfied groan and closed his eyes.

“You have a lot of tension in your shoulders,” said Mary. “Does that feel better?”

“Better than almost anything,” He murmured. “Really good. In fact, I cn’ only think of one thing that’d feel better.” He turned onto his side and dumped her off his back, then grabbed her into his arms. Mary melted into him, loving his long, sensuous kisses as much as ever. It never ceased to amaze her that all he had to do was to look at her to turn her heart over in her breast. Now he was moving against her, pressing his hardness against her thighs, rolling her onto her back and straddling her, pinning her beneath him.

“D’ye want me, then, woman?” he growled, placing one of his knees between hers, nudging her legs apart. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down for another kiss; he was happy to oblige her. He explored her mouth as though for the first time, hungry for her as always. Breaking the kiss, he asked again, “Well, do ye? Tell me ye want me.”

“I want you, baby, so much,” she whispered. She ached for him; at this moment, she could think of nothing else.

He entered her with practiced ease, and she moved with him in their familiar version of the ancient dance, each of them focused upon the other, working together towards the same thrilling and splendid goal.

Before John, Mary had never known that making love could be this way. She wanted nothing more than to be with him; besides their child, he was all that mattered to her and she loved him with all her heart. He was the center of her small universe, and she had not been able to imagine her life without him since the first time he had held her as he was holding her now.

John’s breathing was becoming harsh and ragged now as he held himself back; he was moving slowly, resisting the urge to speed up his thrusting and fulfill his need. Mary felt the warmth rising in her belly; she was getting close as well, and she was ready to take him with her over the edge. She stared into his eyes; they were heavy lidded and smoldering, the most intensely beautiful eyes she had ever seen.

“I want you now,” she whispered. “Take me with you now.”

With a hoarse groan, he plunged into her deeply, swiftly -- he emitted a strangled cry and the two of them were hurled into one another’s very souls, clinging together, holding on for dear life as the pleasure overshadowed the rest of the world and held them up above everything else briefly before they settled back into reality and lay panting, tangled together and coming to rest.

“Yer incredible,” he said, rolling onto his back and retrieving his cigarettes from the bedside table. He selected one, lit it, and plopped back into the pillows. Mary took her place in the hollow of his shoulder, sighing with contentment. John kissed the top of her head and smoked quietly for a moment.

“Mary,” he said suddenly, “I think th’ fuckin’ band is breakin’ up. I feel like I’m hangin’ on to a sinkin’ ship, an’ I’ll be damned if I’ll be goin’ down with it. If I’m readin’ it right, our next album is gonna be th’ last.”

“Are you sure?” asked Mary, “You guys have had your disagreements before; maybe you’ll all get over it.”

“Nah, this is different; trust me. We’re gettin’ near th’ end of th’ fuckin’ Beatles. Things’re comin’ to a head. I don’t know how long it’s gonna keep limpin’ along, but sooner or later it’s gonna need t’be put outta its fuckin’ misery, an’ when that happens, it’s not gonna be a pretty sight.” He crushed out his cigarette and put his arms around her, settling his cheek against her hair. After a while, John was snoring softly, and Mary held onto him and worried that he would be hurt when it all came crashing down.

***

 

“Mary! It’s Paul here; are you about?” shouted Paul, coming in through the open door.

“I’ll be right there,” she called, “Make yourself at home!” Mary was in the kitchen, just putting the finishing touches on Julia’s birthday cake.

Paul came into the kitchen, and Mary presented her cheek to be kissed. “How have you been?” she asked.

“As well as can be expected,” he replied. “I don’t have to tell you that I’m none too comfortable about bein’ here after the row I had with John in the studio yesterday.”

“Well,” Mary replied, “You boys will have to get over your differences for today, at least. Julia will be heartbroken if her Uncle Paul isn’t here for her birthday.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t miss it,” he told her, sticking his finger into the icing bowl.

Mary smacked his hand and he pulled it back, sucking the icing off his finger as he hopped up onto the counter by the sink and sat there watching Mary work.

“Where is the birthday girl?” asked Paul.

“Oh, she’s with her Daddy; he’s taken her to pick out a special present. They should be back soon; I had expected them before now.”

Neither of them said anything for a few moments, then Paul said quietly, “Has John said much to you about what’s been going on?”

“Well, you know John,” she replied, moving the cake aside and beginning to wash the bowl and utensils, “He gets frustrated and he says things he doesn’t really mean.”

“In other words, you don’t want to tell me what he’s said,” Paul said, jumping off the counter.

“No, I don’t. I’ll leave it between you guys. I don’t understand what it’s all about, and I don’t think John does, either.  I don’t know if you do.”

“I hope I don’t,” he replied, “Because if the trouble is what I think it is, I’ve lost my best friend. I think John hates me.” His face crumpled, and his eyes filled with tears. Mary dropped the towel she was wiping her hands on and put her arms around him.

“He doesn’t hate you,” she told him quietly, “He loves you -- all of you. No matter what might happen or what he might say, he loves you all.” She held him gently, and he stood with his arms around her, his face in her hair, struggling for control.

Mary was at a loss; then she happened to look up past Paul’s shoulder and there was John, leaning in the doorway, his face an impassive mask.

“Here’s John,” she said, pulling away from Paul. She went to embrace him, and he moved away, hardly looking at her. Paul coughed and then smiled past John at Julia, who was just bounding into the room.

“Uncle Paul!” she cried, running over to hug him. Paul knelt on the floor and Julia threw her arms around his neck, planting a wet kiss on his cheek. John was glaring at him, and he shook his head and indicated the child. We’ll talk later, he mouthed, and John turned and left the room, throwing his jacket onto the floor before he stalked out.

Mary followed him through the living room and out the front door.

“John, where are you going? What’s wrong?” she asked, grabbing for his arm. He shook her off.

“Get th’ fuck away from me! How th’ hell could ye do that t’ me?” he snarled. “Traitorous bitch!” John’s head was spinning wildly and his heart was hammering in his chest as though it were trying to escape his chest. “How long’ve ye been his whore?”

Mary slapped his face then, hard. John let out an infuriated, wordless bellow and drew his hand back to hit her. She cringed and he stopped, seeming to realize what he was about to do. He appeared suddenly stricken. He dropped his hand and opened the car door.

“Go on back inside; Paulie’s waitin’ on ye,” John said nastily. He refused to look at her as he climbed in. He stared straight ahead and started the car. “I’m leavin’,” he added in a flat, toneless voice. “Make sure that bastard’s gone when I come back.”

“What are you talking about? We weren’t doing anything! He was just upset, and --”

“Save it; I know what I saw. I’m fuckin’ sick t’death of McCartney an’ his shit,” he growled. “I’m leavin’, I’ll be back later.”

George pulled in then, and John backed up past him and tore out of the drive. George got out of his car and walked over to Mary, who was by now sobbing.

“What’s happened, Mary?” asked George. “What’s wrong?”

Mary explained it to him, and he gave her a hug. “He’ll get over it,” he told her.

“John’s like that. You know how he is. He overreacts, then he apologizes later. Just let him go be by himself for a while, and he’ll realize his mistake. It’ll be okay.”

“What’ll I tell Julia? She’s going to be hurt if John’s not here.”

“Tell her he’s gone to get her a present; I’ve somethin’ in the car for her that’ll suffice. Fortunately, I’ve brought her two gifts. Now, cheer up and put on a happy face; there’s a good girl. Let’s go make sure your daughter has a happy birthday.”

***

It was past eight when Paul, George, Ringo, Maureen, Zak, and Jason finally had left. Mary tucked Julia into bed and kissed her, dreading the inevitable repetition of the same question she’d been asked over and over again all afternoon and evening.

“Mummy, when is Daddy coming back?” she asked.

“He’ll be here when you wake up, sweet pea,” she said, “So go to sleep. That way, morning will come sooner and Daddy will be here.”

“Okay, Mummy,” she sighed. “But I am mad with him for missing my party!”

“I know, baby. I’m not too happy about that either. But I’m sure he’ll have an explanation.”

Julia settled in and Mary went out into the hall, leaving the door ajar. Then she went into the living room, turned on the television, and stretched out on the sofa to wait for John to return.

She tried to watch, but in the end, she broke down and sobbed as if her heart would break.

*** 

It was past midnight when John staggered into the living room and stood over Mary, who was still lying on the couch where she had cried herself to sleep. He was about to shake her shoulder roughly -- he had been spoiling for a fight -- but when he saw her tear-streaked face, all the belligerence drained out of him and he sank to the floor beside her. He knew that she hadn’t done anything wrong.

John felt miserable; he had really meant to do better this time. He had screwed up big time with Cyn, between marrying her for the wrong reason and then cheating on her with God knew how many women while he was touring with the band.

He meant to do better, had really tried to do better with Mary. He had married her because he was ready to, not because he felt he had to, and in the almost four years since then, he had never touched another woman. He had had plenty of opportunities, but he had never been all that tempted. Then this had happened. It had been stupid, he knew. Mary would never have cheated on him. He knew she loved him, and only him. He knew that she would never do what he had just done.

He looked at her lying there, her face streaked with the tracks of tears, and his own eyes brimmed. This was a brand new feeling for John; he had slept with so many other women during his first marriage, rarely feeling the least little pang of conscience. As furious as he had been tonight, John had unhesitatingly gone home with the first woman who had approached him. He could not recall her name or even the color of her hair right now, that was how meaningless and empty it had been. He wondered when he had grown a conscience; he knew he had one now, because it really hurt. He had intended to blame his infidelity on Mary if she sussed him out, but he knew that it was all his own fault.

Lowering his head, he let the tears spill over as he wept quietly. His first instinct had been to cover his transgression, but he knew as soon as he walked in the door and saw her lying there waiting for him that he was going to tell her the truth. She would probably know even if he didn’t say a word; she could read him like a book, and he doubted that he could ever hide anything from her.

Oh, well, he thought, I might as well get this over with. He caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers and murmured, “Mary, love, wake up. I need t’ talk t’ ye.”

Mary opened her eyes slowly; when she saw John, she threw her arms around him.  “I was so worried about you!” she cried. “Where have you been? What got into you? You have to know that there would never be anything going on between me and anyone else, let alone one of your best friends!”

He did not say anything right away, and Mary drew back slightly to look into his face. When she saw the misery in his eyes, it felt as if her heart stopped cold. She could see that something was very wrong.

“John,” she whispered, the cold fear wrapping around her heart clearly evident in her voice, “What happened? Tell me what’s wrong; you’re scaring me.”

“I fucked up, Mary,” he said quietly. “I’ve done summat I really regret. I was drunk, an’ she didn’t mean anythin’ t’ me --”

She drew away and sat up on the couch, her eyes wide, unwilling to believe what she was hearing. He sat there on the floor in front of her, tears streaming down his face. “I know there’s no excuse,” he said miserably. “An’ I never meant t’ hurt ye. I can’t explain meself. When I walked in an’ saw ye in his arms, I just lost it. I’ve never felt worthy of ye, Mary, an’ I just -- I think I just figgered that ye’d finally realized that an’ that I was gonna lose ye. I thought -- oh, Christ, gurrl, I don’t even know what I thought. I wasn’t thinkin’ at all, not really...aw, Mary,” he added, as her face crumpled, “Don’t be doin’ that; Jesus, I’m sorry -- Mary, please…”

She bolted to her feet and brushed past him, running down the hall to their bedroom. She ran through the room and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her and locking it. She sank to the floor beside the toilet and vomited. She could hear him rattling the doorknob, and she closed her eyes and continued to retch.

“Mary, open th’ door, please -- are ye all right?”

“Go away, John,” she said. “Please, just go away.”

“Whattayer want me t’do?” he asked desperately. “Must I leave? Mary, can’t we talk about this? Please?”

“We’ll talk about it. We will. Just not right now. Please, John, just go to sleep. I can’t talk to you right now.”

He stood on the other side of the door, his head down. His hand dropped from the doorknob. “Okay,” he said quietly, and he went into one of the guest bedrooms and fell across the bed fully clothed.

He pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes; they hurt like hell, and so did the rest of his head. He lit a cigarette and took a deep drag, silently smoking, staring up at the ceiling, listening to Mary’s muffled sobs.  With all his heart, he wanted to go and comfort her, to take her into his arms and make love to her, erasing all the pain he’d caused her, but he didn’t dare. It was a long time before he finally fell asleep.

*** 

In the morning, Julia again demanded to know where Daddy was.

“Daddy doesn’t feel well, and he’s sleeping in the blue room. You’re going to go over to Uncle Ritchie’s this morning to play with Zak and Jason,” her mother replied. “Hurry up and eat your breakfast; he’ll be here in a little while.”

“Can’t I stay and wait for Daddy to feel better?” she wanted to know. “I didn’t see him since yesterday before my party, and he wasn’t even here for that.”

“You’ll see him when you get home,” Mary assured her. “He’s still going to be here when you get back.”

Julia stuck her spoon into her cereal bowl. “Okay,” she said, taking a bite.

Ringo arrived a few minutes after Julia had finished eating. Mary told her to go and get a jacket, and she ran off to her room.

“How is he?” Ringo wanted to know.

“He’s upset. He went to a bar, and then he went home with someone,” she said, and her voice trembled. Her eyes filled with tears.

“Aw, shit, Mary. I’m sorry. How’d ya find out?” he asked, taking her into his arms.

“He -- he told me,” she sobbed. “Last night, when – he – finally -- came home.”

“Fuckin’ hell, I don’t know what’s happenin’ to us,” he told her quietly. “We’re at each other’s throats lately; everything’s fallin’ apart. I wish there was somethin’ I could do ta help, but I just dunno what.”

Julia could be heard running back down the hall, and Mary stepped back, wiping her eyes. She smiled wanly. “You’re helping so much just by taking Julia,” she told him. “That will give us a chance to talk. I appreciate that.”

“I’m ready, Uncle Ritchie,” sang Julia, flying into the room and hurling herself at the drummer, who caught her up and gave her a squeeze.

“Okay, little bird, let’s be off, then; the boys’re waitin’ for ya,” he replied, shifting her to one arm. He laid his free hand on Mary’s shoulder. “Don’t do anything rash,” he said quietly. “If he told ya what he did, he’s really sorry.  And besides --”

“Never mind,” she interrupted. “You don’t want to keep the boys waiting.” She leaned forward and kissed Julia’s soft little cheek. “Have a good time, sweet pea,” she told her. She kissed Ringo as well. “Thanks, Ritchie,” she said. “I’m sure it will be okay. I’ll call you when we’re done.”

She watched the car disappear at the end of the drive, then returned to the kitchen She rinsed Julia’s cereal bowl, then went down the hall and into the bedroom in which John was sleeping. Mary noted that he had not even removed his boots.

She sat on the edge of the bed and watched him sleep for a few moments. He looked so young and vulnerable when he slept. She felt her heart turn over inside of her as it did every time she looked at him. There was no doubt in her mind that the two of them were meant to be together; no matter what had occurred, her love for him was not lessened at all. But she could not just pretend that nothing had happened.

To Mary, the vows she and John had said to one another at their wedding were sacred. Nothing could ever induce her to be unfaithful to him. How could he have done such a thing to her? He loved her; she knew he did, and yet he had run right out and jumped into bed with someone he didn’t even know, someone who meant nothing to him.

John mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over, sighing in his sleep. He had been asleep for about nine hours, and that was unusual. He rarely slept for more than four hours at a stretch before he was up for a while writing, watching television, or amusing himself in some other way until he felt sleepy again. More often than not, he would ‘accidentally’ wake Mary and then suggest that as long as she was awake anyway, they “might as well have a shag”. Other times she would find him at the kitchen table surrounded by papers, pen in hand, or sprawled upon the couch, watching the television or sleeping soundly.

She was just leaving the room again when he woke.

“Mary,” he said thickly, feeling the table beside the bed for his glasses. Finding them, he put them on and got himself a cigarette. “Don’t go, please -- I need t’talk to ye.”

“I’m not sure how much there really is to say,” she told him. “You don’t know how much you’ve hurt me, John... at least I hope you don’t, because if you do know and you did it anyhow, then I can’t believe you really love me at all.”

“Mary, don’t talk so. Ye know I love ye. It had nothin’ t’do with that, nothin’ at all,” he replied, getting up and moving towards her. She avoided him and would not look at his face. She knew that his eyes would be full of pain, and she could never stand to see him that way. He took hold of her arm and turned her around, forcing her to look at him. “Ye’ve got t’believe me, love,” he said desperately, “It meant nothin’ t’me. Yer th’ only one I care about, yer th’ only one I could ever love.”

She steeled herself, trying not to think of the naked pain in his eyes. She would not let him do this to her. She could not let him make her feel sorry for him when he had been the one who had stepped over the line.

“I need some time, John,” she told him, meeting his gaze directly. “I have to put some space between us and take some time to think about things.”

John felt a wave of panic. “What d’ye mean by that?” he demanded. “Mary, are ye leavin’ me?”

“I think I have to, at least for now,” she replied. Her head was spinning, and she could hardly believe she was telling him this. “I can’t be with a man who would do this to me. I’m sorry John, but you really hurt me. I can’t be with you right now.”

He was astonished; he had expected a lot of crying and anger, but he had not anticipated this. Stunned, he let go of her arm and sat down on the edge of the bed, his hands hanging loosely between his knees, his head down.

“When will ye come back?” he wanted to know. His voice sounded very small.

She did not answer at once, and his head came up. There was panic in his eyes.

“Mary -- ye will come back? Yer not takin’ Julia an’ leavin’ me for good?”

She hesitated. She looked at him; his eyes were pleading with her. With a sigh, she answered, “No, John. I could never hurt you that way. Julia needs you; she thinks you hung the moon. I could never do that to either of you. But I do need some time. I’m going to call Mimi and ask her if I can stay there for a few days.”

“And then you’ll come back?” he asked.

“And then we’ll talk about it again,” she corrected. “I don’t know how long it will take. John, don’t you understand? You promised when we got married that you wouldn’t -- be with anyone else -- that way. I trusted you. Then, for no real reason, you run out and sleep with another woman. I can’t accept that. I have to be sure that it won’t happen again.”

“It won’t! It won’t, Mary -- I promise! Please -- don’t go. I’ll never do anything like that again…”

“Until the next time you get angry and misinterpret something completely innocent?” asked Mary, “That kind of never? Because you said you never would when we got married, and look what happened. I don’t think you realize just how badly you’ve hurt me, John.”

He hung his head again. “I do know,” he told her. “I cn’ see it in yer face. I cn’ hear it in yer voice. An’ I’m that sorry, love. I’d do anythin’ if I could take it back.”

For an instant, she almost broke down and ran to him, but she made herself stand firm. He had to be made to see how serious she was about this so that it wouldn’t happen again.

“I’ll go call Mimi,” she told him, and she left him sitting there, closing the door quietly behind her.

***

“But Mummy, I don’t wanna go without Daddy -- who’s gonna take care of him? Why can’t he come to Auntie’s house with us?”

Mary sighed and closed the suitcase she was filling. She sat next to the case on the bed and pulled Julia up into her lap.

“Daddy will be fine,” she told her daughter. “Uncle Ritchie and Auntie Mo will be stopping by to make sure. Besides, he’ll come visit you while we’re staying there.”

“But it won’t be the same. He won’t be there to tuck me in,” the child whined. “I want Daddy to come with us.”

“I’m sorry, baby, but he can’t come right now. He’ll come in a couple days to see you. Now come on, be a good girl and get your coat. We have to go now.”

Julia sighed and nodded her head. “Okay, Mummy. But he’ll really come, right?”

“Yes, baby. He’ll come. He wants to be with you, too. Now go get your coat so we can leave.”

“Can I bring my Daddy book?” asked Julia, pausing at the door.

“Of course you can. Bring it to me and I’ll put it in my case,” replied Mary.

Taking a last look around, Mary decided that she had everything she needed. Julia came in and handed her the big scrapbook filled with pictures of her father as well as numerous animal drawings he had made for her. Mary opened her suitcase again and placed the book on top. On the cover there was a photograph of her smiling husband with Julia on his shoulder. John was beaming in that way he had that lit up his whole face, and Julia was looking down at him with adoration.

“Okay, you know you’ve gotta do this,” Mary told herself, closing the case on the book and lifting it off the bed. “If you don’t, he’s never going to learn.”

Taking a deep breath, she carried the suitcase out to put it into the car. Julia climbed in after the bags, and Mary stood for a moment looking at the house, then got into the car herself. It was better if they were gone before John got home. The last thing she needed to see right now was John’s face. She didn’t know if she would have the strength to do this if he were here.

*** 

It was fairly late when they arrived at Mimi’s. The older woman fussed over Julia and gave her a birthday present to open; while the little girl was busy with that, Mimi pulled Mary aside.

“John has been calling for hours,” she said quietly. “He seems beside himself. Every few minutes, he’s calling. I just got off the phone with him a minute ago. He’s convinced that you must have had an accident and are off the road in a ditch somewhere. You’d better call him, dear.”

“All right. I’ll call him from the kitchen phone,” said Mary. “Just make sure Julia stays out here until I call for her to talk to him.”

Mimi nodded and went to help Julia open the package, which contained a pretty new dress and a doll attired in a similar garment. Julia was exclaiming over the doll as Mary went into the kitchen and closed the door behind her. Her hands were shaking as she dialed her own phone number. It didn’t even have time to finish ringing once before John snatched the phone up.

“Hello?” he said, his anxiety obvious in his voice.

“John, it’s me,” Mary said quietly. “We’re here; we’re just fine.”

“Oh...good,” he replied. There was a pause, then he continued, “How’s Julia doin’?”

“She’s all right. She was worried about you, about who would take care of you. She didn’t want to come without you. I told her you would come in a day or two to see her. You will come, won’t you?” asked Mary. She leaned against the wall and wound the phone cord around her hand. Her eyes burned with unshed tears; the pattern on the wallpaper swam blurrily.

“Mary, ‘course I will,” he replied. “I miss ye so much, baby. Both of ye. Th’ house is so empty...” he took a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering sigh. “Please, gurrl, wontcha come back? I don’t know how t’be without ye anymore. I feel --” he paused, and Mary closed her eyes tightly, her throat tight and aching. “I feel lost,” he said, and his voice broke. He choked back a sob and muttered, “Fuck.”

“I have to go, John,” Mary told him. “Do you think you can hold it together enough to talk to Julia a little? I promised her she could say goodnight to you.”

“Yeah,” he replied, and Mary’s heart nearly broke when she heard him choke back another sob. He took another deep breath and added, “I’m okay. Go ahead an’ call her t’ th’ phone.”

Mary opened the kitchen door and called to Julia. “Daddy’s on the phone, kitten,” she called. “Would you like to talk to him?”

“SURE!” cried Julia, and she came running over. Mary handed her the phone.

“Daddy!” she said excitedly, “Auntie gave me the prettiest dress for my birthday, and it’s green and she gave me a doll, and the doll has almost the same dress! It’s so pretty and I’ll wear it when you come to see me. When are you coming, Daddy?”

The child was quiet as she listened to his reply. “Really?” she asked after a moment. “Honest? Oh, Daddy, yes, I love them. When will you bring him?”

Silence again. Julia’s eyes were shining; she always looked her happiest when she was with her father, thought Mary. She felt a stab of guilt, but she mentally pushed it away. She hadn’t been the one who had done something wrong. It always amazed her that when John did something wrong, she ended up feeling sorry for him. Not this time, she told herself. This time, I won’t let him do that to me.

She looked down at her daughter, who was hopping up and down, pulling on Mary’s skirt.

“Is that okay, Mummy?” Julia asked.

“Is what okay, honeypie?” asked Mary.

“Is it okay if Daddy comes tomorrow to bring me my special present! I asked you already -- didn’t you hear me?”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t, baby, I was thinking about something. Yes,” Mary told her, “Daddy can come see you whenever he wants. Tell him that would be fine.”

“Okay, Daddy, Mummy says yes. When will you come?” asked Julia, leaning against Mary’s hip. She looked up and smiled at her mother, her eyes shining.  “You wanna talk to Mummy? Okay. Yup. I will. G’night, Daddy.” Julia handed the phone back to Mary and ran back to the living room to tell Auntie the news. Mary lifted the phone to her ear, struggling for control.

“Yes, John, I’m here,” she said, leaning against the wall again.

“Thanks for sayin’ yes,” he said quietly. “I need t’ see ye, Mary. I feel like I’m gonna die if I can’t be near ye...I feel -- desperate.”

“John, please,” she replied. “Don’t do this. I have to go; I’ll see you when you get here tomorrow. What time will that be, anyhow?”

“About noon,” he told her. “You’ll talk t’ me, wontcha, love?”

“Yes, I’ll talk to you. Tomorrow. Goodnight, John.”

She hung up the phone and continued to lean against the wall for a moment. Once she had herself under control, she went back out into the living room to tell Julia that she must get ready for bed.

***

After Julia had been put to bed, the two women sat at the kitchen table having tea and sandwiches.

“How did you find out what he did?” asked Mimi.

“He told me as soon as he got home,” replied Mary.

“He didn’t try to hide it at all? He just came right on home and told you what he’d done?  That doesn’t sound like our John,” Mimi remarked. “Always scheming, he was. Eventually, I’d suss him out, but he never came right out and told me when he’d done something wrong. As often as not, he wouldn’t admit it, even if I knew full well that he was lying to me. If he came home and just came right out with it, I just don’t know what to think.” She regarded Mary over the rim of her cup. “He loves you so much, dear,” she went on. “I’ve never seen him so happy as he is with you. And Julia -- he loves her with all his heart. The life he has with you is the life I always wanted for him. While he was growing up, I was so worried that he would end up in jail, or even worse. I tried to make him conform, but he just wouldn’t have it. I was strict with him like his mother never was, because I thought that he needed it. He fought me at every turn, Mary. I love him like he is my own son, but I could never reach him the way that you seem to have done.”

“He just hurt me so badly,” Mary said. “I’m afraid that if I let it go by lightly, he won’t think it’s a serious matter. To him, I suppose it’s not, but to me it is.”

“He’s a man, dear. To a man, it doesn’t mean what it means to a woman. I think you’re handling it exactly right, though. Let him see how much it means to you for him to remain faithful. Does he seem as though he’s really sorry?” asked Mimi, reaching across the table to pat Mary’s hand.

“Oh, yes,” Mary replied fervently. “He is, and he swears that it will never happen again, but I’m afraid to trust him now. If he did it once, why should I believe that he won’t do it again?”

“Well, do you know why it happened? Was there some problem at home?”

Mary explained about how John had walked in when she had been hugging Paul, and how he had blown it all out of proportion and walked out.

“He went to a pub, and he met some woman who didn’t care about anything except sleeping with a Beatle, and he went home with her,” Mary said. “He came home after midnight and he told me what had happened. I made him sleep in another room, and then in the morning I called you.”

“Like I said,” Mimi told her, “You’re doing just the right thing. Let him see how much he’s hurt you and let him find out what it feels like to be without you. Let him sweat a little. And don’t let him make you feel guilty! He’s a great one for that.”

“As I’ve noticed,” Mary said wryly. “He does something wrong, and before I know it, I find myself feeling sorry for him, or even worse, guilty!”

Mimi chuckled. “I know the feeling,” she replied. “Don’t let our John get round you, though. Make him face what he’s done and see that there are consequences to be had. He’ll learn; he’s diabolically bright.” She stood up and began to clear the dishes away. “He will be coming to try to break you down.” she said casually. “Tomorrow, of course, and bright and early, too.”

“Bright and early for John Lennon,” Mary affirmed, picking up the cups and spoons. “He’ll be here around noontime. How did you know that? Did Julia tell you?”

“Yes, she did, but I would’ve known just the same,” Mimi answered, wiping her hands on her apron. “I raised that boy. I know how he works.  If you’re not careful, he’ll be taking you home with him tomorrow. I’d let him think about it for a little longer than that. That’s my advice, to take or leave.”

“I’ll take it,” Mary told her. “I know he needs time to realize that he can’t do things like that. I just love him so much, Mimi. When he looks at me like that --”

“You just melt,” Mimi said with a chuckle.  “I know. When he misbehaved as a child, he would be round knocking on the windows, pulling at my skirt, batting those pretty brown eyes at me and asking, ‘Don’t you love me anymore? Am I forgiven, then?’ until I had to laugh no matter how cross I’d been, and once he saw the slightest smile, he knew he’d won. I had to learn to stand like iron, and you have to do that too, at least in a serious situation such as this one. Don’t let him see a chink in your armor, if you want to make an impression on our John. That’s the only course to take.”

“Mimi,” Mary told her, giving her a tight hug, “I’m that glad you’re on my side.”

“It’s not a matter of sides. It’s a matter of what’s right,” replied Mimi, untying her apron and hanging it over a chair. “Now, off to bed. You want to be rested to deal with tomorrow.”

***

When John’s car pulled into the drive the next day well before noon, Julia flew out the door and hurled herself into his arms.

“DADDY!” she cried, kissing him resoundingly. “Didya bring him? Where is he? What’s his name?”

“Yes, I did, he’s in the car, and he doesn’t have a name yet. That’s t’ be yer choice. Hang on, I’ll fetch him. Let’s go in an’ see Mummy,” replied John, taking a carton out of the back seat. There were air holes in the carton, which was about twice the size of a shoe box, and a plaintive mewing was emanating from it. “Th’ little bugger was serenadin’ me all th’ way out here,” John declared, hoisting Julia up with one arm after tucking the carton under the other. “Ye ought t’ name him Noisy, if ye ask me.”

Julia laughed and yelled to Mary, who had appeared in the doorway, “Mummy! Here’s Daddy, and he’s brought me my kitten, just like he promised!”

“Good for you, sweet pea.  Take him into the kitchen, love, and ask Auntie if she can give him a saucer of milk. He’s probably thirsty with all that crying.”

John reached the door, set Julia down, and handed her the carton. She tore off towards the kitchen, and John stood looking at Mary. All she wanted to do was throw herself into his strong, warm arms the way Julia had and forget everything that had happened, to lay her head upon his shoulder and put the whole mess behind her. She leaned towards him for an instant, and saw a gleam flash in his eyes. She turned around and went into the living room, John following behind her. She knew without turning around that there would be a glimmer of hope in his eyes, and perhaps the beginnings of a triumphant smile. He’d seen her resolve slip, and he would be right on top of that reaction.

Mary made her face neutral and sat on the couch. John sat beside her and reached for her.

“Please don’t do that,” she said in a cool voice. His eyes shifted from confidence to confusion, and then to anger.

“Yer me fuckin’ wife,” he said. “Am I not permitted t’ touch ye, then?”

“You forgot that you had a wife on Monday,” she said airily. “I’d rather you didn’t touch me just now. I’m very hurt, John.”

His eyes lost the cold look that had crept into them and he looked down at the carpet. “I’m so sorry, Mary,” he told her. “I just don’t know what I cn’ do t’ make it better. I can’t undo it.”

“No, you can’t,” she agreed. “That’s very true. You should have stopped to realize that you weren’t going to be able to undo it before it ever happened in the first place. But you didn’t stop to think, and you aren’t likely to stop and think next time, either.”

“There isn’t going to be a next time,” he said evenly, lighting a cigarette. “I keep tellin’ ye, Mary, I won’t let it happen again!”

“John,” Mary said, “You told me when we got married that it would never happen in the first place, yet here we are. It happened. I trusted you, baby, I trusted you. I never thought you would hurt me the way you have. I thought I was safe, that I could believe you. You proved me wrong. You proved to me that you are perfectly capable of not caring about my feelings.”

“That’s not fair, love,” he said in an injured tone. “I care about yer feelin’s. Ye know good an’ fuckin’ damn well that I love ye, Mary!” His voice took on a dangerous edge. “Ye seem t’ wanna forget about my feelin’s, though, if ye ask me -- dontcha see what yer doin’ t’ me?” He slammed his fist down on the arm of the couch, and his expression was a mixture of agony and fury.

Mary could not believe her ears. “What I’m doing to you?” she said in disbelief. “Jesus, John, you are unbelievable -- you see me giving an innocent hug to a friend who is in pain, and you jump to the conclusion that I am cheating on you -- which I would never do -- without a second thought. Then you go running out and get yourself sloshed, and you jump into bed with some total stranger you don’t care anything about, with no thought of how I am going to feel when I find out about it.”  She glared at him. “Am I getting this right so far? You broke my heart, so I go away to try to come to terms with what’s happened and make some sense of it, and you come waltzing in here and have the unmitigated gall to complain about what I am doing to you?” She shook her head in wonder. “I can’t even believe that you said that,” she added. “You have more bloody nerve than anyone I have ever known.”

“I should have never fuckin’ told you what happened,” he spat, crushing his cigarette out viciously. “I told you th’ bloody truth, an’ see where it’s got me.”

“So you think the mistake you made was telling me the truth,” Mary said incredulously.

“Well, if I’d kept me fuckin’ mouth shut, we’d be at home right now,” he replied, lighting another cigarette. He realized that he was making her angrier and decided to go in another direction. His voice became softer, coaxing. “C’mon, Mary, don’tcha think this has gone far enough? I fucked up, I know, but it’s over an’ done with, an’ it’s not gonna happen again. Stop all this shit an’ come home with me where ye belong.”

Mary stared at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious,” she said. “John, I’m not coming home with you. Go and spend some time with Julia; I can’t even look at you right now.”

“Mary, I just --”

“Goodbye, John. I can’t talk to you right now. I’m going upstairs. You go into the kitchen and have your visit. You obviously need more time to think about what you’ve done, and I need time to decide whether I can forgive you and go home.”

His anger was rising again. “What d’yer mean, ‘whether ye can’? I thought ye were stayin’ a few days, then comin’ home in any case,” he said moodily.

“Well, John,” Mary said, going up the stairs, “You had better think some more.”

*** 

Mary would not come down and talk to John before he left, so he went up to her. When she heard his tentative knock on the door, Mary sat up on the bed. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, then tucked it into the pocket of her apron.

“What do you want, John?” she asked.

“Cn’ I come in?” he asked, opening the door a crack.

“All right. But I’m not going to change my mind. Don’t try to make me,” she replied in a firm voice.

“I know,” he sighed. “Mimi sent Julia out in the garden with her kitten and gave me hell already. I just wanted t’ see ye again before I leave, is all. I’ve got summat t’say t’ye.” He came and stood in front of her. “Cn’ I sit down by ye, then?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said in a small voice. “And please don’t look at me like that,” she added; “I don’t hate you. I love you, John, with all my heart. That hasn’t changed. You’re my husband; I want to be with you.”

“Why won’t ye come home with me, then? I need ye, Mary. I don’t know how t’ live without ye anymore.” he told her, his voice breaking. “Mary, please. I know I said I wouldn’t try gettin’ ye t’come back, but I need ye so bad.” He reached for her, and she nearly let him take her into his arms, but at the last second, she got to her feet.

“That’s not fair, John,” she whispered. “You know what it does to me when you hold me. I can’t let you cloud my mind that way.”

“I’m sorry. But if that’s how ye feel, doesn’t it stand t’ reason that we belong together?” he asked. Mary sat down beside him again and closed her eyes. He made it sound so simple and reasonable. He was so close; she could feel the heat emanating from his body and smell his scent; she took a deep breath and tried not to think about it, but her response was instinctive. She felt her nipples harden, and the hair on the nape of her neck prickled. Damn him, she thought. How does he do this to me?

“I just need some time away from you,” she said aloud. “I need time to clear my head, and you need time to think about how much you’ve hurt me and what it’s going to cost you if anything like this ever happens again. I love you, baby, but I can’t let you do that to me, and I won’t have it. You can’t be with me and still fool around with anyone else. I can’t stand this pain I feel inside, and I’d rather live alone than to live with a man who would make me feel this way. If anything like this ever happens again at all, that’s the end of it. That’s the last you’ll ever see of me, John Lennon, and that’s a promise.”

“How long are ye gonna make me suffer, Mary?” he wanted to know. “How many nights must I spend alone before ye come home t’ me? Can’t ye tell me at all? It’d be that much easier on me if I could only know --”

“Easier on you?” Mary cried, incredulous again. “How is it that I should be trying to make this easier on you? You’re the one at fault here, John! I didn’t do anything. You accused me of cheating on you with Paul, and then you went out and slept with -- whoever the hell it was that you were with that night. You hurt me. Why do you think that I should be concerned with how hard this separation is on you?”

“Well, ye walked out on me! Ye took our kid an’ just left me -- doin’ that, yer hurtin’ me, too, an’ two wrongs don’t make a right, Mary.” John said nastily. “Mebbe ye should think o’ that!”

Mary stared at him for a moment, unable to believe that she was actually hearing him say this; to her horror, she also realized that she was beginning to feel sorry for him.

“John,” she said in a cool, level voice, “Please go home. I’ll talk to you again soon, but right now, I just want you to leave.”

The fight seemed to go out of him as suddenly as it had come in, and he hung his head. “If yer sure that’s really what ye want, then I’ll go,” he told her softly, “But remember this, gurrl.  I love ye.”

After saying this, he stood and quietly left the room, closing the door behind himself. Mary lay on the bed and tried to get herself under control. As his steps receded down the stairs, she turned her face towards the wall and wept inconsolably.

***

Mary woke to Julia shaking her shoulder about an hour later. The child was clutching her kitten, and her little face wore a look of sweet concern.

“Mummy -- are you okay? Why didn’t you come down to visit with Daddy? He’s gone home now,” she declared. “And I miss him already. I wanna go home an’ be with Daddy again,” she added. “Can’t we go back home again? Maybe Auntie could come and visit us.”

“Maybe she will, whenever we go back, sweet pea,” replied Mary, sitting up. Her eyes hurt and her head was throbbing. “Let me see your kitten, baby. What did you decide to name him?”

“Daddy named him for me,” Julia told her mother proudly. “He said that this bloody kitten cried all the way up here --”

“Don’t say ‘bloody’, dear. It’s not a nice word,” Mary interrupted automatically.

“Daddy says it all the time,” Julia countered.

“Daddy says a lot of things,” Mary told her, “that little girls shouldn’t. So what name did Daddy pick?”

Julia smiled and said, “Crescendo. It means something loud, Daddy said. I’m gonna call him Cressie, though. Daddy said he thought that would be easier. Don’t you thin that sounds cute, Mummy? Cressie?”

“I think it’s a lovely name,” Mary replied, “And he is a lovely kitten. Now, let’s go see if we can help Auntie get the tea ready.”

“Can I have tea?” asked Julia, “As long as there’s a lot of milk in it?”

“I think that would be fine,” Mary answered. “Come on, baby, bring Cressie.”

***

John sat on the bed at home staring at the phone. His throat was very sore, and his head pounded. He was at loose ends; he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t understand why his wife and daughter were not at home with him.

What the bloody hell did the woman want from him? He’d said that he was sorry, and he’d promised that there would not be another incident.  He meant it, too. What more could he do? What he had done had been wrong. He knew that, and he realized that he’d hurt Mary badly. He couldn’t go back and change what had happened, though -- things could never be undone.

John lay back and closed his eyes.  He did not understand what he was doing here all alone. It was so damn quiet -- he almost wished that the kitten was still here. The little thing had cried plaintively for most of the previous night, and while he had been annoyed, John also felt pity for the little creature.

“Ahh, poor little bugger,” he’d said, picking the little animal up and stroking it gently, “I know just how ye feel. Yer just that lonely, and yer scared t’ be alone. I know how that is. But I wish ye’d fuckin’ shurrup so I could get some sleep!”

He’d ended up letting the kitten curl up beside him, its tiny body pressed close to his, and he found himself a bit comforted by the little thing’s purring warmth. He wished that the kitten was here with him now. He sighed heavily, then turned onto his side and in a little while, he fell into a fitful sleep.

***

John awoke to the sound of someone calling his name. His head was throbbing, and he did not know where he was for a moment.

“C’mon, John, where are ya? Are ya here? John!” Ringo’s voice was calling. John opened his mouth to reply, but nothing beyond a hoarse croak would come out. His throat burned like fire; what the hell was wrong with him? He struggled to his feet only to collapse heavily to the floor just as Ringo came into the room.

Everything seemed to be spinning, and Ringo’s voice sounded to John as if it was coming from very far away.

“Christ, John,” he was saying. “How much didja have t’ drink, anyway?”

John opened his mouth to reply, and his stomach lurched. He retched painfully and vomited, unable to keep it back. To Ringo’s horror, his friend had vomited what looked like blood. The drummer fell to his knees and grabbed John’s shoulder, turning him onto his side. John’s skin felt dry and hot. There was no smell of alcohol.

“Mo!” shouted Ringo, real fear in his voice, “He’s back here! Call an ambulance, there’s somethin’ wrong with him!”

John looked up at his friend and struggled to rise, then everything went black.

***

 When John opened his eyes again, he was in the hospital emergency room.

“Yeah, they think he’ll be okay; I was dead scared, though, when I found him like that,” Ringo was saying into a phone. He noticed that John was awake and said, “Okay, I think he’s wakin’ up...I don’t think he can talk, though. D’ya wanna say somethin’ to him?” He listened for a couple more seconds. “Okay, then, here he is,” he said, handing the phone to John.

“It’s Mary,” Ringo told him in answer to the question in his eyes. John nodded and put the phone to his ear.

“Mary,” he whispered hoarsely, “It’s John here.” Speaking caused burning pain in his throat, and he winced.

“John, don’t try to talk,” Mary told him. “Baby, I’m coming there. Mimi will keep Julia here, and I’m coming to the hospital.  I’m on my way; I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“I love ye,” he said in the same hoarse, gutteral whisper. “I’m sorry, Mary.”

“I’m coming,” she said again. “Give the phone back to Ritchie.”

John handed the phone back to Ringo, who told Mary to drive carefully before he hung up.

“What’s wrong with me?” John managed to say in his husky, rasping whisper.

“A bleedin’ ulcer,” his friend replied, “Literally.  They’re gonna do some tests, but that’s what they’re figgerin’ it is.”

“I’m not dyin’, then?” John whispered.

“Nah, yer too fuckin’ stubborn t’ die,” smiled Ringo. “Relax, an’ get some rest. The doctor’ll be along soon. He went t’get ya somethin’ called a ‘barium milkshake’, whatever that might be.”

John nodded and closed his eyes. He could use a drink, he thought. His throat burned something terrible.

***

By the time Mary arrived, the tests had been run and it had been determined that John did indeed have a bleeding esophageal ulcer. He would be allowed to go home with instructions to eat a bland diet, take antacid tablets, and avoid stress.

John’s eyes filled with tears when he saw Mary, and she threw herself into his arms, which tightened around her fiercely.

“Calm down,” he whispered hoarsely, “I’m all right, love.”

“I’m so glad,” she said fervently. Turning to Ringo, she asked, “What did the doctors say?”

“He’s got an ulcer, an’ the thing was bleedin’. It got infected and he developed a fever. They shot him full of some sort o’ medicine an’ knocked the fever down most o’ th’ way, it’s still goin’ down. They gave him some stuff t’ drink an’ did some x-rays, an’ they gave him some instruction papers. He can go home now, though,” Ringo replied. “Will you be goin’ home with him, or should I take him back t’ my house?”

“I’m going to take him home,” Mary said. “He needs me; I’ll take care of him. In the morning, though, would you do me a favor and go out to Mimi’s and bring Julia home?”

“Course I will,” said Ringo. “I’ll go round an’ get her in the mornin’, keep her for the day, then bring her home tomorrow late in th’ afternoon, if ya like, t’ give ya a chance to be alone together for awhile, if ya need t’ work things out.”

Mary smiled at him warmly and gave him a hug. “That would be wonderful of you,” she said. “Thanks so much, Ritchie.”

“Think nothin’ of it,” he replied. He clapped John on the shoulder. “I’ll be off, then,” he said. “Take good care of him, Mary. I’ll call ya in th’ mornin’.”

***

Once they had arrived at home, Mary got John settled into bed. She brought him some milk and called Mimi to let her know that all was well, and that Julia would be picked up in the morning.

“I’m staying with him,” she added. “I know I was going to stay away for a few more days, but while I was driving to the hospital, all I could think of was what it would be like to lose him. I can’t leave him alone again, Mimi. I have to stay with him.”

“Of course you do, dear. Take care of him; I’ll have Julia ready to go when Richard gets here. Don’t worry about a thing. Just make sure that John gets well.”

“I will, and thank you. Goodbye,” Mary said. She hung the phone up and went back to the bedroom. John was lying on his back; his eyes were closed, and his face was slightly flushed with the fever his body was fighting off. He looked very young and very vulnerable. Mary sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his forehead, brushing his hair back gently.  He opened his eyes and smiled weakly at her.

“Don’t talk,” she said. “Just listen to me. When Ritchie called me and told me you were in hospital, I was beside myself. All the way down, all I could think about was how I would feel if I lost you. I don’t think I could stand that, baby. You and Julia are my life. That phone call made me realize that there are no guarantees; if it had been something worse, I might have never seen you again. I can’t be away from you any more. But John, please, you have to promise me that nothing like what happened on Monday is ever going to happen again, because I can’t stand the pain. If you want to be with me, it has to be only me. Please, baby -- please promise me that you won’t hurt me that way again.”

She lay beside him and settled her head in her place upon his shoulder; taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and let herself relax, melting against him. His scent and his nearness made her heart swell with emotion, and he turned towards her and took her into his arms with a deep sigh of contentment. The medicine he’d been given at the hospital for pain were making him sleepy, and he drifted off into a deep and peaceful sleep for the first time since before the whole nightmare had begun.

***

When she woke in the morning, Mary was relieved to find that John was much cooler; his body temperature felt normal. He stirred when she moved away from him, awakening with a start. He drew her close again and kissed the top of her head.

“Mornin’, Mary, love,” he whispered. He cleared his throat and winced in pain. “Bugger, that hurts,” he told her in his hoarse rasp. The milk was still on the table, and he took a sip of that.

“Don’t keep talking, then,” she told him, putting her arm across his middle. “There’s no need for it. I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’m back for good; that is as long as nothing like what happened the other day happens again. You have to trust me, John, the same way that I have always trusted you. Don’t make any mistake about this, now,” she went on, drawing back to look into his face. “I’m still really hurt by what you did, and it’s going to take some time for you to earn my trust again.”

He nodded his understanding. “Thank ye for givin’ me th’ chance t’ prove meself to ye, Mary,” he managed to say. “Ye won’t be sorry.” His arms tightened around her, and she kissed his cheek gently. He moaned softly and kissed her mouth, and she found herself kissing him back, wanting him as much as she ever had. His hands began to travel over her body, his touch a bit tentative and questioning; he wasn’t sure whether he was quite forgiven enough to be allowed to make love to her. Mary pressed against him, responding with her usual hunger, and he groaned and whispered, “Mary, please --”

“It’s only been a couple of days,” she told him with a smile. “Look at you; you’d think it’d been months.”

“Without you, it felt like it’s been years,” he said thickly, pulling at her nightgown. She moved to make it easier for him to remove it and reached for him eagerly.

“I know,” she told him softly, “I’m just teasing you. It seemed that way to me, too.”

She pulled him closer for another kiss, and he took her mouth eagerly. Mary shivered inside at the touch of his tongue upon her own; he always drove her mad with his slow, sensuous exploration of her mouth. It never failed to cause her to forget that the rest of the world even existed. His tongue slipped again between her lips and caressed the inside of her mouth lazily at first, but as their excitement built to a fever pitch, they found themselves pushing against one another frantically, their hands hot, mouths becoming more and more demanding. Suddenly, John broke the kiss with a moan.

“Now, woman,” he said in a harsh whisper. “Don’t make me wait for ye another minute. If I don’t have ye now I’ll go mad; give over, Mary, please --”

He let out a deep groan and mounted her, insistently pushing his throbbing hardness against her most sensitive spot.

She opened herself to him, and he entered her body with a deep, shuddering sigh; Mary closed her eyes and nearly forgot to breathe, she thought that if his full length sliding into her felt any better it would probably kill her. Once he was as deeply inside of her as he could possibly get, he held himself very still, trying to keep control. He wanted to make this last. She pushed herself tightly against him with a soft moan, needing this connection with him badly after even the briefest separation. Her body gripped him tightly, and she moved beneath him impatiently.

“Whist, gurrl,” he whispered through clenched teeth, “Don’t be doin’ that, ye’ll have me goin’ off in no time, an’ I wanna make sure I don’t finish before yer taken care of.”

“I’m ready,” she told him. “Please, baby, don’t make me wait, I want you now. We can always do it slowly next time. Right now I need you too badly to wait.”

It amazed him that her hunger matched his own as it did, and he drew back and rammed himself deeply into her once again. She cried out wordlessly and met his thrust eagerly, wrapping her arms about his neck, her legs around his waist.

“More,” she moaned, moving beneath him desperately, “More, baby, please --”

He groaned and gave up; he could wait no longer. He was moving urgently, his breath coming in short, harsh gasps, driving her over the edge with him, and she clutched him tightly and let the feeling grow until it became too large for her to contain any longer. She looked into his face; his eyes here fixed upon hers, full of naked emotion. She whispered that she needed him, and he closed his eyes and cried out her name. Mary lost her tenuous hold on any control she had on her emotions and was overwhelmed by the pleasure he always gave, loving the feeling of the muscles in his arms and shoulders tightening under her hands as he emptied himself into her.

When it was over, he covered her face and neck with frantic kisses before collapsing full length upon her, breathing heavily.

“God, gurrl, I love ye,” he managed to rasp. “That was fuckin’ great.” He moved off of her and got himself a cigarette; Mary took her customary place with her head in the hollow of his shoulder and breathed his warm, wonderful scent in deeply. He laughed softly, then said, “Shit, my throat’s still killin’ me. What’re ye doin?”

“I’m smelling you,” she told him. She kept her nose pressed close against his neck. “I love the way you smell.”

“Do ye?” he asked in an amused tone. He took a drink from his milk glass on the table; his throat was feeling a bit better. “And how do I smell to ye, exactly?”

“You smell lovely,” Mary told him, closing her eyes and breathing his scent again. “And right here is the strongest. You smell like leaves in autumn, the air after a rain, and the feel of sunlight through a window on a cold day in winter. You smell like safety, and happiness. You smell like love.”

“Kind of a shame t’ take a shower an’ wash all that away,” he said, kissing her again. “But I feel like I could use one. Would ye care t’ join me, love?”

“You go ahead,” she said, sitting up and reaching for her robe. “I’ll go fix you some breakfast. How would that be?”

“Second best, but okay,” he replied. He took another drink of his milk. “Fuck, this stuff tastes terrible when it’s warm. Me throat still hurts like bloody hell, though.”

Mary picked up her purse and got the bottle of pills the doctor had given him, then gave him one.

“This should help,” she told him. “Take this now, and by the time you’re ready to eat, you should feel better.”

***

After breakfast, John sat back and lit a cigarette. “I wonder what our kid is doin’ right now,” he said reflectively. “I miss her, Mary. Let’s not wait for Ritch to bring her back. Let’s go get her now. I need t’ hold her.”

Mary was putting the dishes into the sink. She removed her apron and hung it over a chair, the settled herself on John’s lap, her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek. “I miss her too,” she told him. “Let’s do that. Let’s go bring her home.”

She stood up, and he pulled her back down, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

“Well, maybe not right now,” he whispered into Mary’s hair. “Maybe in another hour or so. There’s just one more thing I wanna do before we go.” He let her go and stood up, taking her by the hand.

“What would that be?” Mary asked innocently.

“Just c’mon,” he told her with a wicked grin, “There’s summat I wanna show ye in th’ bedroom.”

Mary smiled and let him pull her down the hall behind him; it was good to be home, she thought as he turned in the doorway and took her into his arms again.

Copyright 2003, Angel Godiva

About the Author

Angel Godiva was actually was given that nickname by John Lennon, whom she met in L.A. in 1974 on her 21st birthday. She had yards of hair back then.   She lives in Northern Connecticut with her second husband, and has been a Beatles fan since 1964, when she was 11.  The high point of her life was meeting and getting to know John (though she never saw him again after he returned to NYC).  She also writes poetry, and is currently working with an editor friend on her first novel.

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