By the time we left the farm early Sunday afternoon, I knew I was in love.  And I knew that meant trouble too.

He had made me a delicious breakfast that was waiting for me when I got out of the bath Saturday morning.  We spent the rest of the day wandering around outside.  Paul had never full explored the land he had purchased.  We walked through the fields and out to the cliffs which overlooked the water.  We sat on the rocks, basking in the warmth of the sun.  He brought along his ever-present guitar and worked on a few tunes.  I brought along a writing tablet, and inspired by the fresh air, continued the work I had begun on the plane.  The two of us were each caught up in our own worlds, yet totally aware of each other.

We didn’t walk back to the house until the sun was nearly setting.  I had writer’s cramp, but was pleased with all that I had accomplished. I thought I hard nearly three-quarters of the story done and had a clear idea of how the tale would end. 

Paul too seemed pleased.  He had come up with a new melody and sang me a bit before we headed back.  “Many times I’ve been alone, and many times I’ve cried.  Anyway, you’ll never know the many ways I’ve tried.”

We walked back hand in hand.  We made dinner together with the groceries we’d brought.  We talked for hours that night – over dinner, as we washed dishes, as Paul struggled to start a fire in the fireplace.  We sat snuggled against each other watching the flames.  And we went to bed together, innocently curled up next to each other.

On Sunday, we explored some more.  It was so calm and peaceful.  We were in our own world.  And it was safe there.  We were both reluctant to leave it, but we knew we had to.  We were both quiet as we packed up our things and put them into the car.

“It’s been a lovely weekend, Andrea,” he said, closing the trunk.

“And you didn’t even jump me,” I smiled.

“Not that I wasn’t tempted more than once.”

“You showed incredible self control.  And I appreciate it.”  I kissed him on the cheek.

“My incredible self control won’t last much longer, I’m warning you.”

“Maybe it won’t have to,” I replied, surprising myself with the words, even as I said them.  But I quickly realized that they were true.  I was in love with Paul.  And I wanted to make love with him.

We got in the car and headed back toward London.

We stopped again at the Ian McGregor’s pub.  We were both hungry and I needed to use the restroom.  Although the place wasn’t crowded, those who were there immediately came over to greet us.  Though I didn’t know the names of most of them, they made me feel as if I were a part of their family.

When I returned from my rest stop, the table was curiously deserted.  “Did Ian chase everyone away again?”

“He might have,” Paul replied, smiling.

“Okay.”  I felt like something was out of place.  “Is something going on?”

“What makes you think something is going on?”

“The grin on your face, for one thing.  Come on, what gives?”

“All right,” he said, pulling a large shirt box from underneath the table.  “This is for you.  I know it’s not wrapped or anything...”

I took the box from him.  It was a bit heavy.  “What is it?”

“Open it.”

I pulled off the lid.  Inside was an old, beat-up black leather jacket.  I pulled it out.  It smelled a bit smoky and sweaty.  “I’m afraid I don’t get it,” I said, holding it up to take a better look.

“You told me that in America, when a guy asks a girl to be his steady, he gives her his sweater.  Well, this is the closest thing I’ve got.  I used to wear it way back when we played the Cavern and stuff.”

I realized that I was holding a piece of history.  It really was quite worn, but the fact that he had remembered what I said and had taken it to heart really meant a lot to me.

“It’s a bit rattier than I’d remembered.  Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all,” he said apologetically.

“Oh no,” I protested and I felt tears well up in my eyes.  “It’s perfect.  I don’t know how you pulled this off, though...”

“Just a few calls.  I knew my dad had it somewhere.  It’s really nothing...”

I stood up and hugged him.  “It’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s done for me. It’s a wonderful gift, because it came from your heart and not from your wallet.”

He held onto me for a moment and then kissed me.  “And that’s the nicest thing that anyone’s said to me in a long time.  Now sit down and eat up.  I want to get you back to London at a decent hour.  After all, you have to be at work bright and early.”

“Help me put this on first,” I demanded.

“You’re not serious.”

“I most certainly am,” I replied, holding it out.  

He stood up and helped me into it.  Wearing it, I could smell the lingering mustiness and smoke.  But I could also smell Paul.

“How do I look?” I asked, turning around.

“Like you need a new jacket.”

“Never.”  I hugged it close to me.  “This is the best gift because it came from you.”  I sat back down.

“You mean that, don’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He looked at me, bemused.  “Why wouldn’t you?”

***

I made sure that I was up early the next morning.  Since I had skipped out on Neil early on Friday, I figured I’d better make up for it on Monday.  I was downstairs dealing with the paperwork I’d deserted by 7:30.

It was quiet and I was able to get a lot accomplished before Neil popped in just before 9.

“So how was the weekend?”

“Fine.  Come on in.  I’ve finished up and I’m ready to tackle your next project.”

“You are, are you?”

“Sure, what have you got for me?”

“John and Yoko in a couple of hours.  We’re going to discuss Two Virgins.  That’s the name of the album you saw the cover for.”

“Oh, so it’s going to be a fun Monday morning.”

“Exactly.  Are you going to tell me any more details about your weekend?”

“What do you want to know?”

“Why did Paul give you that jacket?  It should be condemned.”

“How did you know about that?”

He gave me a wry smile.  “I know about everything that goes on around here.  Actually, Alistair handled it, but Paul called me first.”

“Hope I didn’t ruin anyone’s weekend.”

“You didn’t.  But why an old leather jacket?”

I shrugged.  “I guess you had to be there.  But when I was in high school, if you were really cool, you wore your boyfriend’s sweater or jacket.  Of course your boyfriend had to be the star of the football team or something like that.  Or you wore his class ring on a chain around your neck.  It was a sign of your total devotion to each other.” 

Neil looked at me, laughter in his eyes.  “Don’t roll your eyes,” I said.  “It was the thing to do.  Needless to say, I never wore anyone’s jacket or ring.”

“Until last night, that is.”

“Right.”  I giggled.  “Paul and I are going steady.”

“I’ll alert the papers,” he replied dryly.

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.  “Haven’t we had enough of those?”

“It was actually a quiet weekend.  I was surprised.  Especially after last weekend’s mess.  But I’m sure things will heat up again now that you and Paul are, as you say, ‘going steady.’”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to say anything about it, and I doubt Paul is, so I don’t think we have that much to worry about.”

“That, my dear girl, is where you are wrong. I have a feeling that the papers are going to be all over you again this week.”

“And why is that?” I asked wearily

“Because Paul’s asked Francie to move out. And she’s going to make a lot of noise about that.  She was quite comfortable there, doing nothing.   That also makes you the only woman in Paul’s life.”

“But what difference does that make?  I mean, they were saying I was his girlfriend even when I wasn’t.”

“But now you are.  For real.”

“Yeah,” I said, thinking about it for  a minute.  “I guess I am.  How about that?  Andrea Bakker is Paul McCartney’s girlfriend.”

“People have been saying that for months now,” Neil commented.

“But it’s true now, isn’t it?”

“Yes it is,” Neil said smiling.  “The question is, do we continue to deny it now that it’s true?  Or do we hit it head on?”

“You know, I hadn’t thought about that.  I mean, I’ve spent so much time denying it because it wasn’t true.  And now it is true.  This is confusing, even for me.  What do you think I should do?”

“I think you should talk to Paul about it and decide together what you want to do.  In the meantime, John and Yoko are supposed to be here around 11, which probably really means around one.  I’ve got a copy of the album in my office.  I’d like you to listen to it with me.  See what we can do about this whole mess.”

“Sure,” I said, getting up.  “Why don’t I get a cup of tea for you and some coffee for me and we can get to it.”

“Great idea.  Make it strong though.  It’s going to be a long day.”

I brought the steaming mugs to his office and we sat down and listened to the album.  I didn’t say anything.  I didn’t know what to say.  It wasn’t music.  I didn’t know what to call it.  I also didn’t know what to say after we had finished listening.

“I guess you see our problem,” Neil began.

“I can see it on the cover and hear it on the album,” I said candidly.  “What’s the point?”

“The point is,” came a voice from the hallway, “that Yoko and I love each other and want to share it with the rest of the world.”

I could feel myself turning bright red, but Neil, as always, remained calm.  “Hello, John.  Hello, Yoko.  We weren’t expecting to see you so early.  Come in and have a seat.”

“Yoko feels that early morning is the best time to get things done,” John said, coming in with Yoko on his arm.  The two of them sat on the sofa and Yoko whispered something to him and he nodded in agreement.  “Some tea would be nice. Send the girl for some, Neil.”

It took me a moment to realize that he was speaking about me.

“Where are my manners?” asked Neil.  “You haven’t met Andrea Bakker.”

I composed myself and stood.  “Pleasure to meet you, John.”  I went over to shake his hand and forced myself to smile.  He shook it half-heartedly.  “And Yoko.”  I extended my hand to her as well, but she didn’t take it.

“So you’re Paul’s bird,” John observed, looking me over.

“No...I mean...yes, I guess I am now, but I wasn’t then.”

“Well, while you make up your mind, get us some tea, will you?”

“Umm...sure.  Two teas?”

“Milk and sugar for both of us,” John added.

“Uh...right.” I backed out of the room feeling put down and very small.  I quickly made my way to the kitchenette and got two cups of tea ready.  I found a worn-looking tray and put the cups, spoons, sugar and milk on it and hurried back to Neil’s office. 

“There you go.”  I set the tray down on the side table and then sat back down by Neil.

John poured milk and sugar into his cup and took a sip.  “Made like a true American.”

I felt myself turning red again.

“We won’t be needing you any longer,” John dismissed me, waving his hand.

“John,” Neil began.  “Andrea has been helping me with your project and...”

“I’m not having Paul’s bird judging my work,” John protested.

“I wouldn’t be judging,” I started to say.

“The hell you wouldn’t.  Besides what the hell do you know about music anyway?” he demanded.

“I’m just...” I began.

“John,” Neil interrupted, “Andrea is just the sort of person we need.”

“No,” John said flatly.  “I won’t have it.  Paul may have her on the payroll, but she’s not having anything to do with any of my stuff.”

I stood with my cup of coffee in hand and swallowed my pride.  “John, you’re right.  There certainly could be a conflict of interest, and I certainly don’t want that happening.  I’ve got a lot of other things that I really should be working on.  So, if you’ll excuse me…”  I walked out of the office, carefully closing the door behind me.

I went back to my own office and shut the door completely.  I sat down and tried to immerse myself in more paperwork.  I didn’t want to think about John Lennon and what had just transpired.  I wanted to try and keep myself in an objective frame of mind.  He probably had some valid reasons for not wanting to work with me.  He was right, I might not be fair in my actions because I was dating Paul. 

I tried to convince myself that John’s harsh words had nothing to do with me personally, but with the situation.  I dove into another stack of papers and forced myself not to think about it any more.

***

There was a knock on the door and I glanced down at my watch.  It was after twelve already.  Paperwork had kept me busy for the morning after all.  “Come on in!” I called out, expecting that Neil had finished up with John and Yoko and probably wanted to talk.

“Hello luv,” Paul said, stepping in.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, standing.

“Now that’s a fine way to greet your fellow,” he teased.  “And not wearing the jacket I gave you either.  And here I thought you were going to be my steady girl.”

“I’m just surprised to see you, that’s all.”

“A nice surprise, I hope.”  He came over and hugged me.

“It couldn’t be anything but.  I thought you’d be busy at the studio.”

“I am.  Or I will be.  We work mostly in the afternoon and evening.  That kind of messes up my chances of seeing you after work.”

“I never thought of that,” I confessed.  “It can’t be easy for you.”

“Hasn’t been since...well, since the Beatle madness started.  But I’m willing to make the effort for you.  How about lunch?” he offered.

“That would be great.”

“How about that little place you went with Mary?  Sound good?”

“You want to go out?  With me?  Be seen with me?”

“Generally, lunch entails going out and eating.”

I blushed.  “I know, but, I mean, you want to go out in public with me?”

“We did it this weekend.”

“Yes, but that was different, that was…”

“I know what you mean, luv,” he said, kissing me on the cheek.  “But we might as well face this head on.  You and I are truly an item now.  I’ve never hidden the truth from the public.  When I went out with a woman, I went out with a woman.  Now you’re that woman.  And you and I are going out to lunch.”

“All right, just let me check in with Neil first.”  He took my hand as I walked past him and went with me to Neil’s office.  The door was open and Neil was just hanging up the phone as we walked in. 

“Paul’s asked me to lunch,” I said.  “Is there anything I can do for you before we go?  Or can I bring you back something?”

“Hello, Paul.  No, Andrea, I’m having lunch with Derek in a bit.”

“Did things go all right?” I asked cautiously.

He sighed.  “As usual, John Lennon will be getting his way.”

“You’re not talking about that Two Virgins crap, are you?” Paul asked.

“I am,” Neil replied.  “And it’s best if we don’t get into it now.  You two run on and have a nice lunch.”

Paul hesitated for a moment, so I took his arm and led him away from the door.  “Neil is handling it,” I said.  “It’s not your problem.”

“Yeah, but…I know you’re right.  I just hate to see John do this damn fool thing.  You wouldn’t pose nude with me on an album cover would you?”

“I don’t think you’d ask me.  Would you?”

“Hell, no!  I’m not having my privates hanging out for the rest of the world to see.  Too many people are prying into my private life as it is, I don’t need to have someone analyzing my prick under a magnifying glass.”

I giggled at the thought of it.  But he was probably right.  When John’s album came out, people would be scrutinizing every bit of it. 

“It’s not proper lunch conversation anyway,” he said.  “Come on, let’s talk about something else.”

We managed to have a relatively quiet lunch.  We walked to the restaurant, as I had with Mary the week before.  No one bothered us.  We were seated immediately at an out of the way table, so no one would really see us.  The waitress who took our order was a little overwhelmed, but the McCartney charm quickly took care of that.  We had a lovely time together, and the more I got to really know Paul, the more I liked him.  We held hands as we walked back to the office.  My hand in his felt comfortable and right.

He walked me all the way back to my office, kissed me, and said, “I’m off to the studio now.  I’ll be there till all hours.  Care to have lunch again tomorrow?”

“Only if you’ll let me make it for you,” I replied.

“You’re on, then.”  He kissed me again, and I knew for sure that I had fallen in love.

***

The weeks seemed to fly by.  Although I rarely saw Paul at night, he made a point of coming by the office for lunch practically every day.  I spent the weekdays buried in work, and my evenings working on my second book.  Friday afternoons, Paul would come by and we would drive up to Scotland.  We spent the weekends isolated and alone, detached from the rest of the world.  With none of the luxuries, Paul and I came to rely on each other during those times. 

We spent many autumn afternoons walking the hills, hand in hand.  With no outside interruptions, we would talk or play cards in the evenings.  Sometimes he would work on a song and serenade me.  At other times, I would be buried in my own work and wouldn’t even notice what he was doing.  Paul was curious to see what I was writing, but I still felt somewhat uncomfortable showing him a work in progress.

When the proofs of the first book arrived at the apartment, I read it over carefully and brought it along with me on one of our treks to Scotland.  I handed it to Paul on Saturday morning and went out for a walk alone.  I stayed away until midday, when Paul came out to find me.

“It’s great,” he said, kissing me gently behind the ear.

“You mean that? Honestly?”

He turned me so that I faced him and put his hands on my shoulders.  “Look at me.  I think it’s great.  It’s not something I’d run out and buy for myself, but then I’m not a girl between the ages of 8 and 12.   But even a bloke like me can appreciate a good story.  And that’s what you’ve written, Andrea.”

“Thanks.”

“When are you sending the next one in?”

“I’ve just about finished up the first draft.  I’ll probably send it off this week.  You really think it’s good?”

He hugged me tightly.  “Yes, you silly girl.  I really think it’s good.  When does it officially come out?”

“Soon.  They want me to go on a book tour.”

“And?”

“I said no.  They didn’t ask because of the book, they asked because of you.  They wanted me to write something about you, about us, even before there was an us.  I could never do anything like that.  What’s between us is…it’s separate from that.  I want people to buy the book because it’s a good book, not because I’m your girlfriend or because I know the Beatles.”

“Andrea, people are going to buy the book because of our relationship, it’s an unfortunate fact of life.  But they’ll by the next one and the one after that because you’re a good writer, no matter who you know.”

I hugged him close to me.  “I was so lucky to get to meet Beatle Paul, but I’m even luckier because I’ve gotten to know Paul McCartney.  No wonder all of the women in the world are falling all over you.  You’re so easy to love.”

“Who’s so easy to love?” he asked teasingly.  “Beatle Paul, or me?”

“Well, Beatle Paul didn’t like me very much when he met me…” I said.

“Beatle Paul has been having a rough time.  He’d rather just be plain old Paul McCartney.”

“I might have had a huge crush on Beatle Paul, but Paul McCartney is the one I fell in love with,” I assured him.

“Does that mean you’ll sleep with me now?” he joked.

The word “yes” almost slipped from my lips.  Ever since our first weekend in Scotland, Paul and I had come to an understanding.  We shared a bed, and I often slept in his arms, but we had not consummated our relationship.  While we were alone there were plenty of deep kisses and a bit of heavy petting, but Paul was always in control.  He was the one who would pull away and say in a stern voice, “All right now.  That’s enough of that.”

I knew it had to be hard for him, but it was becoming harder for me too.  In the past, I had always been able to pull away when the moment got to be too intense.  But nothing I had experienced in the past had prepared me for the way I felt when I was with Paul.  I had never wanted to make love to some one like I did with Paul.  When I was in his arms, all my fears melted away and I just wanted to be with him.  There had been several times when, if he hadn’t pulled away from me, I wouldn’t have stopped him.

“I was just joking, you know,” he said, as if reading my thoughts. 

“I know.”

“Then why have you gotten all quiet and serious on me?”

“It’s a little scary to say for the first time, but I love you, Paul.,” I admitted.  “And when you asked me if I’d sleep with you now, the answer that came to mind was yes.  I’ve never wanted to before.  But then, I’ve never felt about anybody the way I feel about you.”

“Now you’re going all mushy on me.  Typical female.”

“I’m not joking, Paul.”

“I know you’re not.”  He pulled me into his arms and kissed me.

I felt myself melting, as I always did when his lips were on mine.  I clung to him, and in spite of all the layers of clothing that both of us were wearing, I could feel his hardness.  I slid my hand down to the front of his pants and began to rub.

“Hey, hey,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling it away.  “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Nothing that I haven’t done before with you,” I said.

“Yeah, but not out here.  What happened to the proper Andrea that I’ve come to know and love?”

“The proper Andrea is…I’m losing it Paul.  I want to be with you.  I never thought I’d want that before marriage, but I do.”

He took my hand and softly kissed it.  “We’ve only been together for what, 2 months?  Aren’t you rushing things a bit?”

“Rushing?  How long do you usually wait?”

He laughed.  “In the past?  Maybe an hour, two at tops.  But it’s different with you, Andrea.  You know that.  I love you and….”

“You love me?”

“Yeah,” he said softly.  “I do.”

The air rushed out of my lungs.  He’d said it. 

“You all right?” he asked, eyeing me with concern.

“I’m fine.”

“You were wondering if I’d ever say that, right?”

“How do you know me so well?”

“Amazing isn’t it, Andrea?  But I do know you, better than I’ve ever known any other woman before.  Sometimes I can just look at you and know what you’re thinking.  It’s almost like you’re…well, like you are part of me.”

“Two halves of a whole?” I said with a joking tone, but I wasn’t joking.  I felt the same way. 

“Something silly like that I suppose,” he agreed.

He was looking at me with such a serious expression that I shivered.  I knew at that moment that he was truly the man I wanted to be with for the rest of my life. 

“Cold?” he asked.

“A bit, I suppose,” I replied, not confident enough to admit the true reason for my shivering.

“Let’s head back then.”  He wrapped his arm around me, keeping me close to him as we walked back to the cottage.

Once inside, he started a fire.  I took off my jacket and watched him.  My heart was pounding away, as I realized that I truly wanted to be with Paul now.  I didn’t want to wait any longer.  And it didn’t matter if we married or not. 

“Are you certain you’re all right Andrea?” he asked looking at me with concern. 

“I’m fine,” I answered, but my voice was quivering.

“Come on then, sit here.”  He put some pillows before the fireplace.  “We’ll get you warm.”

I was already plenty warm.  My insides were on fire, but I shivered again as I sat down.

“Oh, come on, luv,” he said with tenderness.  “You must have caught a chill out there.”  He sat beside me and pulled me into his arms.  He kissed me gently.

I responded with an intensity that I had never displayed before.  I was afraid and I was nervous, but I wanted him.  I wanted to be one with him.

“Whoa there,” he said, pushing himself away from me, surprised.  “What’s going on here now?”

“Make love to me, Paul,” I said softly.

“Do you know what you’re saying, Andrea?”

“You said you loved me.  I know that I love you.  Being with you feels right.  And I want to.  I want to now.”

“You’re sure about this?” he quizzed me.

“Yes.  Don’t you want me?”

He laughed.  “Of course I do.  You know I do.  I just don’t want you regretting this tomorrow.  Or the next day.”

I smiled.  “I won’t regret it.”

“All right then, time for Lovemaking 101,” he joked.  He quickly removed his sweater and shirt.  Then slowly, he removed mine.  His fingers lightly ran over the upper half of my body.  He did not unclasp my bra, but lowered his mouth to my right breast and began to nibble at it through the thin material.  When the material became wet and transparent, he moved to my other breast. 

Even through the material, the sensation was enough to send off sparks throughout my entire body.  After what seemed like an eternity of pleasure, he removed my bra and began the process again.  His lips and tongue against my sensitive flesh sent chills down my spine and I could not help but let out a small moan.

His mouth moved lower.  He nibbled and kissed his way down my stomach.  When he reached the waistband of my jeans, he slowly undid the button and zipper.  He pushed the jeans down past my knees and then continued to kiss my stomach.  His lips moved lower and I gasped when he lowered my damp panties and began to kiss and lick me there as well. 

In a matter of seconds a rush went through me that I had never experienced before.  It was like lightening had suddenly struck me, and my body tensed as I let out a scream.

Paul started to laugh.

I went flush with embarrassment from head to toe.  “Oh my God.  I’m sorry…I mean…I…”

“So you’re a screamer, hmmm?” he said, still laughing as he raised his head.  “I never would have guessed.”

“Paul…I…Oh my God, what the hell did you do to me?”

He pulled himself up and looked me right in the eye.  “My dear girl, I do believe I have just had the pleasure of helping you have your very first orgasm.”

“But we didn’t…I mean you didn’t…I…”

He laughed again as he gently stroked my hair. “No, we didn’t.  And we don’t have to for you to have an orgasm.”

“But I thought…”

“I can see I have a lot to teach you.”

“Oh, please teach me,” I said.

“With pleasure.”

He kissed me and ran his hand down to where his mouth had been only a minute ago.  His fingers played with the most intimate part of my body.  Once again I began to feel that incredible lightening bolt build up inside of me.

“Oh God, Paul…it’s happening again,” I breathed.

He stopped.  “Not so quickly this time luv.”  He pulled his own jeans and underwear off.  “You’re ready for me now.  It may hurt a bit.”

“I don’t care,” I said honestly, sliding my own hand down to touch him.

He left out of soft groan as my fingers brushed him.  “Good, because I don’t think I can hold back much longer.”

He moved his hand in between my legs again, parting them.  As he continued to stroke me with his hand, I could feel him enter me.  There was moment of pain, but my focus was pulled away quickly enough, as his fingers played me and he rocked against me.  And before I knew it, my entire body bolted with a jolt of electricity that came from inside of me and I screamed once again, not caring about anything other than the feeling.

Paul continued to move inside of me and I moved with him, amazed that the two of us had become one.  His movement became frantic and I could see him tense as he let out another moan before he sank down on top of me.

“Oh, Andrea,” he said, kissing me softly.  “That was bloody wonderful.”

“So you’re a moaner,” I teased.  “I never would have guessed.”

He laughed.  “Yeah, well, between the two of us we seem to make enough noise to make the walls of Jericho come tumbling down.”

“I don’t mean to make so much noise,” I said, embarrassed, “it’s just that…”

“Hey, Andrea, don’t be embarrassed.  It’s all right.” He rolled over and I snuggled in the crook of his arm.  “You’re not afraid to let go and enjoy yourself.  You’re wonderful, do you know that?”

“You sure it’s all right?  I mean do most girls…”

“You’re not most girls,” he said, giving me a squeeze.  “There is only one small problem, though.”

“What’s that?”

“There’s no way we’re going to be able to do this back at your flat.  My God, all of Savile Row’d know what we were up to!”

I could feel myself turn ten different shades of red.  “Oh, Paul I…”

“Andrea, stop it.”  He rolled onto his side, pulling me along with him.  “There’s nothing wrong with…umm…expressing yourself.  I love you, just the way you are.”

“Really?”

“Really.”  He held me tightly and I drifted off to sleep, safe in his arms.

***

My life changed once again after that weekend.  As did Paul’s.    We developed a new pattern.  The daily lunches that we had during the weekdays stopped.  Our weekend getaways grew longer.  Paul would pick me up late Thursday afternoon, and we would arrive in Scotland early on Friday morning.  The days had gotten colder, but it didn’t matter.  The walks we used to take were few and far between now.  Instead, we spend nearly the entire weekend in bed together.  Having discovered the sexual side of myself, I was anxious to explore.  And Paul was only too happy to teach me.

We wouldn’t leave Scotland until Sunday evening and even then, we were reluctant to return to the world.  Paul would drive like mad and quite often I would arrive back at Apple just as the sun was rising on Monday morning. 

The rest of the world didn’t matter to me.  My book came out.  I didn’t care. I just wanted to spend as much of my time as possible with Paul, in his arms and in his bed.  My second book had been accepted for publication and I began working on the third during the long weekday nights while I was alone in my apartment and Paul was off in the studio.  Even then, I had a hard time concentrating.  My only focus was on him.

I felt as if my work was slipping as well.  I felt guilty about it, yet I continued with my weekend escapades.  Neil never said anything to me, but I knew he was disappointed.  I kept telling myself that I would take a weekend off from going with Paul and stay in London and work overtime to catch up.  But it never happened.  Paul would appear in the office on Thursday afternoon, I would run upstairs to get my bag, and we’d be off.  I forced myself to get up earlier and be in my office by 7 AM to make up for the lost time, and to stay long after the others had left for the evening.

Strangely enough, now that Paul and I truly were a couple, the press seemed disinterested.  Or maybe it was just that we were never around enough for them to get any good dirt.  We didn’t go out at night.  We didn’t go out at all.  We lived apart Monday through Thursday and then spent the long weekend clinging to each other.

Even stranger was that I really didn’t know what Paul was up to during the week.  I might have been working for a corporation in which he was a partner, but I was dealing more and more with new Apple “discoveries” and less and less with The Beatles.  My job developed into more paperwork and less contact with people.  Maybe it was because I was so wrapped up with Paul, or maybe it was just because I could get more done during the odd hours that I was at the office.

***

Before I knew it, the holidays were around the corner.  The weeks had run into each other and Thanksgiving had passed, which I didn’t even notice because it wasn’t celebrated in Britain.  It was not until Neil appeared at my office door one evening that I realized how close to the holiday season it was.

“Working late again?” he asked.

I looked up from the pile and smiled at him.  When was the last time I’d had a real conversation with the man who was supposed to be “my boss?” 

“Just trying to keep up,” I answered.  The guilt factor reared its ugly head.  “You’ve been so kind to me, letting me take those long weekends.  I know that I haven’t been pulling my fair share around here.”

“On the contrary,” he said, stepping inside and sitting down in front of me.  “Despite the fact that you and Paul are running off to romp in the countryside, you still get more done than most people around here.  You do all of the grunt work that no one else wants to deal with.  Everyone wants the glamour and the glory, except for you.  You like to lock yourself in here and burn the midnight oil.”

“It’s the least I can do,” I confessed.  “I’m spending company time with Paul and…”

"Andrea, Paul is a major part of the company.  You think I’m going to stop him from taking you away?  I haven’t seen him so happy in a long time.  Not that I get to see him all that much these days.  Just a brief glimpse on Thursdays as he comes to take you away.”

I grimaced.  “We have been ignoring the rest of the world.”

“It’s all right,” Neil assured me.  “I expect nothing less from two lovebirds like you.  But I do hope you’ll think about foregoing your little weekend rendezvous this weekend.  Or at least put it off till Saturday.  The party wouldn’t be the same without the two of you.”

“Party?”

“The Christmas party?  This Friday?”

“Christmas?  But it can’t be…”  I turned to the calendar on my desk, which still read November.

"But it is, my dear.  Christmas just a week away.  I take it you’re not planning to fly home to the States for the holiday?”

“The holiday?  Oh my God!  I haven’t even spoken to my mother about it.”  My head was reeling.  When was the last time I had spoken to her?  October?  Or had it been September?  I looked at my watch.  It was nearly 9 PM.  I couldn’t call her now, it was the middle of the night where she was.  I resolved that very second to be up before 5 the next morning to call her.  How could I have let the time slip away from me like it had?

“Being a Beatle girlfriend can make the rest of the world disappear can’t it?”

“Neil, I can’t believe how I’ve neglected my mother.  She’s got no one to spend the holiday with.  I haven’t called her in months!  I’ve been so wrapped up with Paul…I’m a terrible daughter.”  The tears began to well up in my eyes.  How could I have allowed this to happen?

“Hey there,” he said, coming around behind my desk and giving me a hug.  “Don’t be so hard on yourself.  You’re in love, who needs the rest of the world?”

I shook my head.  “I’ve been so selfish.”

“And before this, when was the last time you were selfish?”

“What difference does that make?”  I demanded.

“Andrea, we’ve worked with each other for several months.  I’ve seen how devoted you are to everyone but yourself.  Don’t beat yourself up for this.  Call your mother in the morning.  If she’s anything like her daughter, she’ll understand.”

“She’ll understand,” I said miserably, “but what am I going to do?  I can’t let her be alone for Christmas.”

“Don’t you worry,” Neil assured me.  “We’ll either get you there or her here.”

“At this late date?”

“My dear, where there’s a will there’s a way.  Or where there’s a will there’s an Alistair Taylor.  Don’t worry, everything will turn out all right.  Now, why don’t you call it a night?  You’ll be up early to call your mum and then you can come right down to work, all right?”

“All right,” I replied, sniffing.  “You are a Godsend, you know that, Neil?”

“So I’ve been told,” he said, smiling slyly.  He headed out the door. “Good night, Andrea. Oh, and good luck.”

***

The alarm went off at 4:30 the next morning.  It was cold and dark, but I forced myself out of bed and over to the phone to make the call.

“Hello?”

At the sound of my mother’s voice I broke down and cried.  “Mom?  It’s me”

“Andrea?  Andrea, is that really you?”

I could hear her voice shaking and knew that she was about to cry too.

“It’s me, Mom.  I’m so sorry that I haven’t called you.”

“I’ve been so worried.  I’ve been trying to call you, but your phone just rings and rings and rings.  I’ve called your office too, but they always say you’re out.  I’ve been worried sick, Andrea.”

“I know, I know.  I’ve got no excuse.  It’s just that everything’s so crazy.  And I…”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Paul McCartney, haven’t you?”  The crying hadstopped and she had turned back into the mother that I knew so well.

“Yes,” I said, taking a deep breath and wondering how I was going to tell her that I was in love with Paul McCartney.

“You’re in love with him.”

“Yes.”  Well, at least she made that easy for me.

“Does he love you?”

“Yes.”

“And were you planning on inviting me to the wedding?  Or letting me read about it in the papers?”

“Mom!  He hasn’t asked to marry him.”

“Well, what’s he waiting for?  You love him, he loves you, and I should be planning a wedding for my daughter.”

“If it comes to that, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”

“If?  You tell me the two of you love each other.  If that’s the case you should get married.  Life’s too short not to grab it.”

“I know,” I replied, thinking back to the time when my dad was alive.  They’d had less than a decade to share together.  I’d never stopped to think how rough that must have been on my mother.  And now, she only wanted my life to be happier than her own. 

“Mom, how would you like to come to London for Christmas?” I said suddenly.

“I was hoping you might come home for the holidays, Andrea.”

“I could, but I just thought that maybe for a change…”

“I don’t have a passport, Andrea.”

“That’s not a problem.  I could get it worked out for you.  I thought you might like to get away and…”

“Andrea,” she interrupted.  “I’d really like for you to come home.”

Something was wrong.  I could hear it in her voice.  “Mom, is something wrong?”

“Does something have to be wrong for me to want my daughter home with me for Christmas?”

“No, but..”

“So I can expect you home within the week?”

“Of course.  I’ll call you tomorrow or the day after with the details.  Are you sure everything is all right?”

“I’d just like to see you, Andrea.”

Her voice still didn’t sound right to me, but now wasn’t the time to get into an argument.  “I love you, Mom.  And I promise, I’ll be home for the holidays.  I call you just as soon as I have all the details worked out, okay?”

“Okay.  I’ve missed you, honey.”

“I’ve missed you too, Mom.”  But it was a lie.  I’d been too wrapped up with Paul to miss anybody or anything.  Now, however, hearing her voice made me ache inside.  “I love you.”

“I love you too, Andrea.  Call me once you know when you’ll be getting here.”

“I will.  I promise.”

“All right then.  Take care honey.”

“I will, Mom.  I love you.”   I hung up the phone with an uneasy feeling. 

The feeling stayed with me as I showered and dressed.  By 5:30 I was downstairs working in my office, but I was anxious for Alistair to come in.  I needed to get home.  Not just for the holidays, but for my mother. 

When he finally arrived around 9:00 that morning, I practically pounced on him.  He didn’t even have his coat off before I was at his side, explaining how I needed to get a flight to New York as soon as possible.  Sweet man that he was, he just nodded without asking questions and promised he’d get on it right away. And before Neil showed up at quarter to ten, Alistair had already booked me on a flight for that Saturday afternoon.

***

I meant to call Paul that morning, but somehow I allowed myself get caught up with work and before I knew it, it was mid-afternoon and he was standing in the doorway.

“Time to put the work away, luv.”

“Is it that late already?”  I hadn’t even given myself a chance to take a lunch break.

“Quarter past three.  It looks like the weather might turn nasty, so we should get underway.”

“We can’t go.”

“What do you mean?”  He came in and sat down on the corner of my desk.  “It’s Thursday afternoon. Time to get away from it all.”

“Paul, the Apple holiday party is tomorrow.”

“Oh, sod it!  They won’t notice if I’m not there.”

“But they will,” I said firmly.  “You’re part owner of this company.  You need to be there.  And as an employee, I need to be there as well.”

He rolled his eyes.  “Fine.  We’ll make a requisite appearance at this shindig and then we’ll take off.”

I took his hand.  “That won’t do either.  We’ve been so wrapped up in each other that we’ve been neglecting the rest of the world.  Christmas is only six days away.”

“Bloody holidays,” he said. 

“Paul, listen to me.  I’m going home.  I’m going back to the States on Saturday.”

“You’re what?!”  He looked at me as if I were mad.

“I’m sorry.  I’d forgotten about the holidays too, until Neil reminded me yesterday.  I need to go home for the holidays.  My mother needs me.”

“Is something wrong?”

“She didn’t say, but I just get the feeling…Paul, I need to spend Christmas with my mother.  She’s the only real family I have.”

“And what about me?”

“You should spend the holidays with your family too.  When was the last time you spoke with your dad?”

“I don’t remember,” he said, pulling his hand away from mine.

“Holidays are for sharing with family and friends.”

“And where does that put me?” he said petulantly.

“Oh come on, Paul.  You have plenty of friends.  And when was the last time you spent time with your family?  It’s not that I don’t want to go away right now with you.  But I need to spend the holidays with my mom.  I can’t imagine not spending them with her.”

“So why don’t you have her fly over here and we can all spend Christmas together?” Paul pressed.

“That’s a lovely idea,” I said, “but I think mom and I need some quality girl time together right now.  I’ve been away far too long.  I’ve been so wrapped up in things here.  I’ve been so wrapped up with you.  I haven’t spoken to her in months.  My mother deserves better than that.”

“I suppose,” he said, still pouting.  “But I wish you’d told me about this sooner.”

“I didn’t think about it.  I’d completely forgotten about it until Neil reminded me the other day.  My God, I didn’t even call my mother on Thanksgiving.  She was probably all alone.  That’s horrible.”

“All right, all right.  So if we’re not going to go away, what are we going to do?”

“Well,” I said.  “Since I’m leaving the country in 2 days, I’m going to get as much work done as possible.  I won’t be back until after the New Year, so I’d better make sure everything is squared away.”

“You’re going to be gone that long?”

“I’m coming back on the 4^th.  That’s only two weeks.”

“That’s a long time,” he said seriously.

“I’ll miss you Paul, but I need to go.  I need to be with my mother.”

“Why for so long?  You said she was fine.”

“I said she told me nothing was wrong.  I’m not sure that I believe that.  She just sounded…I don’t know.  Believe me, Paul, this isn’t easy for me.  I love you and I want to be with you, but I need to go be with my mother.  Just think of all the fun we’ll have when I get back.”

“I may have to lock you up in Scotland for a week or two to have you make it up to me,” he teased.

“Does the house even have a lock?”  I joked back.

“Oh, it’s got a lock all right,” he replied.  “To keep you safe inside.”

"Well, you need one with all of your precious furniture and stuff.”

“Are you making fun of my secret little hideaway?”

“I most certainly am.  The least you could do would be to get a decent bed for us to sleep in.”

“Maybe I will,” he said.  “Maybe they’ll be a few changes when you get back.”

“Sounds like a project that might keep you busy for a week or so while I’m away.”

“Maybe.  But I still wish you weren’t going to go.”  He came around behind the desk and hugged me close to him.  “I wish you weren’t leaving me.”

“I’m not leaving you,” I said, nuzzling close to him.  “Next year we’ll just have to plan better. Maybe by next year we’ll have my mom and your family celebrating all together.”

“You’re planning on sticking around that long, then?”

“You planning to give me the boot, Mr. McCartney?”

“Not in a million years.”  He bent down and kissed me. 

His kisses still made me tingle all over, no matter how many times we kissed.    His hands wandered down my back to my cheeks.  Squeezing them, he pulled me even closer so that I could feel his erection.

The pone ringing down the hall brought me quickly to my senses.  The office door was wide open, and anyone passing by could see us making out.  I pushed him away.  

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

“Not here, Paul!”  I said, blushing upon the realization that someone might have already seen us and I wouldn’t have even noticed it. 

“Besides,” I continued, straightening my skirt, “I really need to get back to work.”

“All right, I can take a hint.  How about dinner tonight?”

"I’d love it, but I really do have a lot to do.  How about tomorrow after the party?  You could come upstairs, and then take me to the airport Saturday afternoon.”

“Spend the night in your flat?  Is that what you are suggesting?  What kind of man do you think I am?” he leered.

“Oh, cut it out.”  I swatted at him.   “Get out of here and let me get back to work.”

“Work, work, work.  That’s all you young girls think of these days.”

I rolled my eyes.  “McCartney!  Go on!  Now.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” He backed out of the room.  “But just you wait till tomorrow.”

***

I was up early again the next morning to make yet another transatlantic phone call.  Mother seemed happy to hear from me, but there was still something in her voice that told me something was not right.  I didn’t prod her about it this time, knowing that I would see her late the next day.  Face to face, I would find out what was wrong.

After hanging up the phone, I showered and headed down to my office.  I was determined to finish as much as I could before leaving.  Alone with a pot of coffee, I ignored the day as it went by, eventually shutting the door so that the office noise wouldn’t bother me.  I ground away, oblivious to the outside world, until my door burst open with a bang.

“Andrea!  What do you think you’re doing?”  Mal’s words boomed out at me.

“Working?”

“There’s a party going on out there and you’re working?  What kind of holiday spirit is that?”

“Has the party begun already?”

“Begun?  It’s been going on for a good two hours now.”

“What time is it?” I said, shutting the file that I’d been working on.

“It’s nearly four.  Now come on and get out there.”

“Four? Oh, geeze, everyone must think I’m an idiot.”

“No, they just think that you’re a workaholic.  And they’re right.  Now come on with me.”  He grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the chair.

“Wait!  Wait!” I protested.

“No, come on now, Andrea.  The party’s been waiting long enough.”

“Just let me clear up my desk.” I said, managing to pull away from him for a minute.  I quickly stacked the files I had been dealing with and did a quick sweep of the desktop.  If Neil needed anything while I was away, I wanted to make sure all was orderly.

“Hurry up,” Mal cajoled.

“I’m ready.”  I rushed over to his side.  “Come on, let’s party.”

Out in the hall I could hear the noise.  The place was packed with people.  The hallway was lined with them.  And as we got closer to the meeting room that had been set up as the “holiday room,” it got closer and louder.  I didn’t know half of them.

“Come on,” Mal said taking my hand and pulling me through to the kitchen.  “Let’s get you a drink.”

I let myself be dragged.  I had no real option. 

The kitchen was just as crowded.  My stomach growled at the sight of food.  I let Mal go ahead and stopped at the table, picking up a sandwich and hungrily digging into it.

“Andrea!  It’s so good to see you.”

I found myself face to face with Patti Harrison, who, without hesitation, gave me a big hug.

“Hello Patti.  It’s good to see you too.  How are you?”

“Fine,” she replied.  “I’ve been meaning to ring you.  But then I hear you’re quite a busy lady.”  She gave me a knowing smile.

I blushed.  “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.  You think I don’t remember what it’s like to be young and in love?”

“You’re still young!” I exclaimed.

“George and I are the old married couple.  Besides things have been crazy with me too.  But I want to hear all about you and Paul.”

“Here you go,” Mal said, handing me a glass of something.  “Patti, darlin’.”  He gave her a kiss on the cheek.  “How are you, luv?”

“Just fine, Mal.”

“Andrea!”  Mary Hopkin came up from behind me.  “I’m so glad to see you.  It’s been much too long.”

“It’s good to see you too, Mary,” I said, giving her a hug and feeling even more guilty about not keeping up with her other than on a business front.

“Come on,” Mal said.  “Let’s move this into the conference room.  It’s not as crowded in there.”

I grabbed another sandwich as we made our way to the conference room.  Mal’s prediction that it wasn’t as crowded in there was not at all true.  Still we managed to find space on a sofa and above the din began chatting and gossiping.  As much as they wanted to hear about me and Paul, I wanted to hear about them.

As more people came by and stopped to say hello, the conversation grew more diverse.  George came and got Patti, but then Ringo came by and I was introduced to his wife Maureen.  Having only heard about me from her husband, she was anxious to learn more.  Then John & Yoko arrived, dressed in holiday garb with Christmas sacks full of goodies.  Both seemed to be caught up with the holiday mood, as John gave me a kiss before pulling out a gift for me.

I was having a wonderful time, and Paul hadn’t even arrived yet.  Many of the girls who I worked with, but whom I never really got to know had had a few drinks and were soused enough to come by and talk too.  For a moment, the fact that I was “Paul’s girl” or “that bitch from America” was forgotten, as they all opened their gifts from Father “John” Christmas.  They wanted to talk about their holiday plans and included me in their conversation for the very first time.  I was actually beginning to feel as if I were a part of their group.

And then Paul arrived.  It was like the parting of the Red Sea as he made his way over to the sofa where I was sitting.  People moved aside as he walked towards me.  And the conversation seemed to suddenly stop.

“Hello, luv,” he said, bending over and giving me a kiss on the cheek.  “Sorry I’m a bit late.”

I blushed as everyone around us stared.  “Not a problem.  But I’m afraid you missed Santa Claus.”

“Ah well, that’s the price I pay.” 

The sofa was overflowing with people, but Paul had the full McCartney charm turned on.  “Sandra,” he said to the girl to my right.  “Lovely to see you again.  Would you mind sliding over a bit so that I might have a seat?”

“Of course, Paul,” she said, eyes shining, obviously thrilled that Paul remembered her name.  But she wasn’t dumb.  She shifted closer to me, making room on the other side of her, near the sofa’s arm.

Paul didn’t let it bother him the least.  He plopped down beside her and began chatting her up.  He was quickly surrounded by several other office girls who were anxious to be part of this intimate chat.

This went on for a good five minutes or so before I got totally frustrated with the situation.  I stood and headed towards the kitchen for another drink and sandwich.

“Andrea, wait a minute,” Paul said, getting up.  “If you’re heading for some food, I’ll come with you.”  He turned back to his harem.  “Ladies, it was lovely talking with you, but my stomach calls.” 

Catching up with me, he put his arm around my waist.  “I hope that didn’t bother you too much,” he whispered in my ear.  “Got to keep on good terms, you know.”

“I was a bit annoyed,” I whispered back.  “But it’s understandable.”

“That’s why I love you,” he said, kissing my cheek lightly.  “Now let’s get some food.  I wasn’t just trying to make a getaway, I’m starving.”

The party lasted several more hours.  Paul stayed by my side the entire time.  For the first time in my life I felt like part of a couple and it felt good.  His confidence and charm brought me out of the shell that I usually stayed in when I was alone at a party, and I found myself having a better time than I had ever imagined.  Though I knew that some of the girls from the office were jealous, I didn’t let it bother me.  Paul made every effort to speak with everyone at the party, and made sure that I was introduced to all as well.  And when Paul introduced me, they had no choice but to be nice.

As much as I enjoyed myself, I was glad when Paul made the suggestion that we “take our leave” around 10:30.  The party was winding down by then (actually most of it had moved on to a local pub by then, as the liquor at the office was pretty much exhausted by that hour) and we managed to slip out pretty much unnoticed.

We walked up to my flat with arms around each other.  I unlocked the door, but he opened it for me and then locked it again once we were inside.

“Thank God that’s over,” he said with a sigh.

“That’s my line,” I said, taking off my shoes and flopping down on the sofa.  “I never feel right at those sort of things.”

“Neither do I,” he confided, sitting down next to me and taking my feet in his hands.

“You?  You work the room like a pro.”

“Just cause I can pour on the charm when I have to doesn’t mean I like it.  I’d much rather be alone with you.”

“Me too,” I confessed.

“Especially since you’re going away for so long.”

“It’s only two weeks,” I emphasized again.

“I know, I know.  But it’s going to be a long two weeks.  A long, lonely two weeks with no one to share my bed.”

“There are plenty of women who would just love to share your bed.”

“That’s true,” he said, with a sparkle in his eye.

“Just see if you can hold out for the two weeks, okay?” I teased, leaning over and giving him a kiss.

“I suppose I could, if you made it worth my while now,” he teased.

“Make it worth your while?”  Perhaps it was all the alcohol I’d imbibed, or maybe it was just that I knew I wouldn’t be making love to Paul again for at least two weeks.  I slid over and straddled his lap.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, an amused tone in his voice.

“Making it worth your while.”  I pressed myself against him as I kissed him.

His arms automatically went around me, pulling me even closer.  I began to unbutton his shirt as I ground my pelvis against him.  He didn’t even seem to notice until I had gotten down to his belt buckle.  He quickly pulled his shirt off and then pushed off my sweater.   Once that was out of the way, he began to nibble at my breasts through my bra.  By now he knew how much I loved it when he did that. 

Still fueled by alcohol and a frantic sense of lust, I unzipped his pants, and with his help pushed them down.  Then I stood and quickly removed my panties, nothing more.

I don’t know who was more shocked, he or I, when I sat down on him and quickly began to rock against him.

“God, Andrea,” was all he could manage to breathe.

***

We made love several more times that night, finally making it to the bed around two in the morning.

“God, I am going to miss you,” Paul said, as we cuddled close to each other.

“It won’t be that long,” I said again, yawning.

“After tonight, you’re lucky I’m letting you go at all.”

“Just remember that,” I said, snuggling closer and resting my head on his chest.

“This I will never forget.  I don’t know what got into you tonight, Andrea…”

“But you like it?”

“Umm hmmm.”

“Good.”  And I closed my eyes and allowed myself to fall asleep.

When I woke it was nearly ten in the morning.  My flight was only a few hours away.  I got up quietly as possible.  I had to shower and pack the last of my things.  Mal had volunteered to take me to the airport and he would be arriving in just a little over an hour.

Paul slept on as I got ready.  I couldn’t help but keep looking at him.  He was so handsome.  And I was so lucky.  To have all this happen, just because of a simple rumor.

I had all my stuff by the front door and was debating whether I ought to wake him.  I thought I heard a car pull up and went to the window.  Sure enough, there was Mal making his way to the front door of Apple.

“Is that your ride?”

I jumped at the sound of his voice. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you, luv.”  He got out of bed and searched for his pants.

“I didn’t know if I should wake you or not,” I confessed.  I walked over to the sofa where his crumpled slacks lay and picked them up.  “Here, I think you’re looking for these.”

“Thanks.  I would have been very disappointed if you hadn’t woken me.  I’m going to miss you, Andrea.”

“I’ll miss you too.”  I went over and gave him a hug.  “It won’t be long.”

“It’ll be an eternity, and you know it.”

He was right.  I couldn’t imagine what it was going to be like to spend two whole weeks away from him. 

“It’ll go by quickly enough,” I lied.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

There was a knock on the door.

“That’s Mal,” I said quietly.  Why did this moment seem so awful?

“You’d better let him in, then,” Paul said, picking up his discarded shirt and putting it on.

I unlocked the door and opened it.  “Morning, Mal.”

“Morning, Andrea.  Morning, Paul.”  If he was surprised to see Paul in my apartment he certainly didn’t show it.  But then nothing should faze him.  After all the years of working with the Beatles, he must have certainly seen much more surprising things than this.

“Well,” I said softly.  “I suppose it’s time for me to go.”

“Why don’t I take these bags here and bring ‘em down to the car?”  Mal suggested.  “You two can say your good byes privately,”

“Thanks, Mal,” Paul said.

I watched as Mal took my things and headed back down the stairs.  “It’s only two weeks,” I emphasized again.

“I know.”

I went to him and gave him another hug.  “I love you, Paul.”

“I love you too, Andrea.  And I miss you already.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not.  I never thought…well…when those rumors about you and me started during the summer…”

I chuckled.  “Who ever thought those rumors would come true, right?”

“I’ve very glad they did,” he confessed.

“Me too.”  I kissed him, savoring the feeling of his lips on mine and trying to lock this moment in my memory.

“Go on, then.  Mal is waiting for you.”

“All right.”  I could feel the tears starting and I did my best to fight them back.  “I’ll see you in 1969.”

“I’ll be waiting Andrea.  And you better be back here on the 4^th or who knows what rumors I’ll start.”

“No more rumors, please,” I said playfully swatting him.  I gave him one more quick hug and then turned to leave.  I turned back only once.  “I love you Paul,” I said again.  Then I forced myself to run down the stairs to Mal’s car.

***

One rumor had changed my life that year, making it one of the best years of my life.  I looked forward to 1969 with hope and plans for wonderful life with Paul McCartney.  As much as I had learned in those few short months, I was still pretty naďve.  Life still had a lot of surprises for me. It was much longer than 2 weeks before I saw Paul again.

But those few months in England; those times with Paul were never to be forgotten.  No matter what life handed me in the future, I always had those memories.  They would sustain me through one of the roughest years of my life and bring me into a new decade.