Traveling had not been favorable to Evelyn after she moved to Liverpool. Before Liverpool, it hadn't struck her as anything appealing, either. Not until she had decided that travel would allow her to escape from home did she become fascinated it. It was a sudden strike of interest, gone as soon as she'd found her place and come to the conclusion that she liked it.

The travel to Liverpool was full of terror and she had experienced cases of cold feet every 10 miles, it seemed. She'd sat next to a plump, old woman, who had shiny grey hair on the bus, thinking she'd be comforting. The woman was pale and wrinkles devoured what had once must have been a beautiful canvas of youth. Evelyn thought she might have stories to tell but she told none, much to her disappointment. Instead she slept most of the way and didn't look back when she got off, not checking on Evelyn.

Evelyn's first glimpses of Liverpool were blotchy shaped buildings, viewed through hot tears. The first week was there was humbling, to say the least, and she'd thought she'd never make it through another. It wasn't until she stumbled upon the Cavern on Matthew Street that life started to look a bit up for her. It was enchanting, with it's arches and teenagers, and music so sweet it put everyone under a spell.

It was funny to think how that'd been a little over two years ago. She was nearing the age of 21 now, with her birthday approaching in a few days. When she told Elio she'd be staying in London that day, he told her to come home and celebrate. He wanted her to meet his new French fiancée before they went home again. They had to make arrangements for their winter wedding, he said. It was to be in Paris, the city of love, where he'd meet her. Evelyn had thought hard about it, home, and told him she'd give him an answer before the day came.

As she watched the lights inside of the houses glow in the darkness, she thought about it some more. She didn't want to go home, but it'd been so long since she'd seen her brother it made her want to sob. She knew her parents were angry with her because she hadn't attempted to travel home, too. But what did she have to show them? They wouldn't take to her newspaper or like the fact that she traveling with men to review rock'n'roll. They'd ask about the schooling lying about, too, and she couldn't bare it.

Evelyn closed her eyes and pressed her head against the glass, hoping to doze off into a peaceful sleep. When she woke, she'd hoped they'd be there, so she wouldn't have to think about the troubles that plagued her life. She wanted to indulge in the music, and do little else for the duration of this tour.

————

As promised, Brian had made the appropriate arrangements for Evelyn. When she arrived early in the morning to London, Evelyn had a car waiting for her, with Brian beside it. He sat with her on the way to meet the boys, speaking of all that was to ensue in the following hours.

Though excited to see the boys, Evelyn felt tired as the morning peaked up and the London she knew started it's day. She watched as the people moved and shifted their way on the sidewalks, walking to work. The shops all looked the same, decorated with luxuries and filled with promises.

"Are you prepared for the tour?" Brian asked her, as they approached the meeting place. She looked over at him and smiled.

"I sure hope so. It's a little late to go back now, isn't it?" He returned her grin. "Yes, I suppose it is."Brian told the driver where to stop, and the man obeyed, dropping the pair off at the destination. Brian opened the door for Evelyn and when she stepped out into the city, she began to feel odd. She knew this place, had grown in it, but it didn't feel like home anymore. It felt like she was on a holiday in a foreign country.

"Evelyn." Paul was the first to take notice of her.

The boys all walked in a line on the sidewalk, each seeming to copy the other's movements. John stepped forward to greet them, breaking the rhythm.

"How are you feeling today, John?" Brian asked.

"Alright," he shrugged his shoulders.

"Jus' a cold I can't fuggin' knock."

"Is your throat still sore?"

"A bit, but it's nothin' a cuppa can't fix, 'uh?" he sniffled.

"It's so bleedin' cold, no wonder I'm sick."

"Brian," Paul interjected, "We wanna go see some guitars."

"You see that every time you're here."

"And we're rather pleased by it," John spoke. George and Ringo nodded in silent agreement and Brian looked back to Neil.

"That must be thirty minutes from the cinema, John."

"We've time to spare, Brian, don't we?"

"Yeah," Paul added, "we do, don't we? Rehearsals won't start for a bit."

"Yeah, let us show Evelyn, then. This must be a bit new t'her." George found his voice.

"She comes from London, George," John told him.  How he'd know that? He must've been speaking with Brian or Bill one.

"Oh." George didn't cower. "Well, then she can show us, can't she?"

"Won't you?" John asked, and I nodded.

"I wouldn't mind doing that, no."

"Alright," Brian gave in. "I expect to see you all at the cinema on time."

"Ay, ay 'aptain." John nodded, speaking in a funny voice. Paul snickered, and Neil lead the way to the van.

------

After what felt like hours of window-shopping and much awe over the city, Neil made them pack it in. None of the boys took the front seat, though John had thought about it. Paul tugged on his jacket before giving he submitted it to Evelyn.

"Such a bloke," Neil complimented, grinning. John nodded his head, "Always, Nell, always."

So she could speak to the boys, Evelyn turned around in her seat. She had pulled out her notepad earlier, while the boys were strolling the streets. Evelyn had jotted down meaningless notes, about the guitars they liked and the words they spoke. Since then, she hadn't placed it back in her bag, ready for more information to appear. As they had time to kill, Evelyn decided now would be a good time for an interview. She didn't see it happening once they got there, as she expected there were other things they needed to be doing.

"How do you like London?"

"We quite fancy it," Paul told her. "We like to look at the windows and dream. It's nice. There's so much 'ere that's not in Liverpool."

"I dunno why you'd want to leave it," George told her. "Liverpool doesn't have guitars like London does."

She smiled. "Brian mentioned earlier that you go there every time. Has this become a ritual?"

Paul nodded. "Sure, I s'ppose. We haven't been around London much 'cause we usually come 'ere before a gig, 'er to record, which takes a bit."

Evelyn jotted that down. "How do you feel about the tour? Are you fans of Tommy and Chris?"

"Sure," Ringo finally said something. "We like a bit of everything. At least I do."

"Oh me too, Gringo," John tapped his shoulder. "Innit tha' grand?"

Ringo smiled, enjoying the laugh John was being. Evelyn caught Neil smiling out of the corner of her eye, and couldn't help but let one slip on her lips as well."

Tell us about you, Evie, 'nough about us. The tour's not even started yet," Paul stated.

"Yeah, what's the motive?" John pipped up. He did sound rather congested.

"You know," she told him, "An article."

"Always a writer," George grinned.

"If ye'r anythin' like the two of them--" Neil looked at John and Paul in the mirror. "--we'll never catch you dead without a piece of paper." Neil entered the conversation. Evelyn turned her head towards him.

"Ye won't," John told Neil, "she's mad about it like us."

Evelyn smiled to herself.

----

The toughest part of the day was remaining out of the way, and finding where she belonged in the meantime.

Evelyn didn't try to pester anyone else for an interview, and she tried the best she could to remain out of the way. She moved into a different side of the room every so often, remaining as close as she could to the only people she knew. John would catch her eye every now and again, and he'd give her a grin, but other than that, they hadn't much contact. She took the time to sort her notes, and write a letter back to Bill and Virginia. They'd requested she'd do that as often as she could, to keep them up to date.

Before she knew it, the rehersal time was over and the stars stowed off into the dressing rooms. John told her she could come in, if she didn't mind seeing them in their "knickers." Brian protested outright to the idea. He thought it'd start too much talk, and Evelyn nodded, knowing he was right. She stood outside their door with Brian until Paul popped out and told her everyone was decent. After that she slipped into their room and enjoyed their humor and company until she lost them once more.

They wore dark grey suits, with no buttons aside from the ones on the cuffs. The flaps and cuffs on the jackets were a dark black, standing out from the rest of the outfit. Each Beatle had neatly combed hair, and wore a white shirt underneath their jacket. Under their necks were thin black ties, which brought the outfits together. On their feet was none other than the Cuban heel they'd sported for months now.

Before the show, the boys posed with the headliners, Tommy Roe and Chris Montez. Evelyn stood aside, watching as they told to do a variety of poses. Between the shots, the Beatles interacted with the men and laughed, making the photos real. After hearing Chris and Tommy talk, Evelyn came to the realization that she had never heard an American accent in real life before. They sounded neat.

The Beatles took a few stand alone photos as a group, John holding his mouth organ in a few. Brian asked the photographer for access, and the man said yes, and Evelyn wanted to do the same. It would be neat to have an article with photos, but she knew there was a slim chance of that. Whereas Brian had money, she did not, and could not afford to pay any amount of money for press shots. She'd only have to tell people to look at Brian's for the time being, if they wanted that.

"Ms. Sinclaire," Brian greeted the woman. He had changed his attire too, from one nice suit to another, more evening-like one. "Would you like to watch the show from the side, or with the fans?"

"Um." She gave thought to that. In the audience, she'd be able to see how they played from the front, watching their fingers, seeing how they moved. But from the side she'd hear how everyone played, and get to greet them afterwards, too.

"The side," she told him, nodding.

"Great," he told her. "Come with me then, the boys are about to appear."

------

Brian and Evelyn walked behind John, Paul, George and Ringo. The boys held onto their instruments and chatted quietly as they made the walk out. When they neared the stage, they all looked a bit ill, and Evelyn couldn't help but wander if that was normal for them. Aside from John, none of them had a proper excuse to be so pale, so it must've been nerves.

"Remember, bow," Brian instructed. The cheers from the fans that had filed into the rows of seats began to echo in the theater. Evelyn peeked out, as far as she could without being visible, and saw rows and rows of excited teenagers.

"We will," John promised. He cast a look over to Evelyn. "Wish us lots o'luck."

"Good luck," she told him.

The show went off with a bang; the Beatles played beautifully, all nerves gone for that instance. Brian watched them, nervous, despite it, but Evelyn found herself enjoying the atmosphere. John was the nearest one to them, and she could hear him well, even above the wails of the girls in the crowd. He bopped up and down when he sang, his legs spread and his mouth close to the microphone.

As instructed, they bowed when they finished their set. They zoomed past Brian and Evelyn, sweating but full of joy. Brian followed them to their room, and Evelyn followed suit.

"That was wonderful," Brian assured. "They loved you."

"I know," Paul grinned, "It was bleedin' great."

John smiled. "Yeah, fuggin' excitin'."

"Write this one down, Evie, it'll be one fer the books."

She made a mental note this time, not needing a pad to remember that.

The Beatles' Granada Greatness: London Takeover

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This one's a bit early (or perhaps just a bit extra, depending on if I bust out another update by Friday). Much research was put into this chapter so I'd like to thank the ever reliable Beatles' bible, Mark Lewisohn's "The Beatles: Day by Day,"  Jude Southerland Kessler's "Shivering Inside," Beatle sources' "The Savage Beatles," and last but not least, "Many Years From Now" by Barry Miles, for the anecdotes about where the Beatles used to romp when they were in London.

Also huge shout-out to kiwi747 ! You recommend the Hemingway App ages ago, and that played a large role in how this chapter came out. I don't know if it's made me a better writer, or a good one at all, but it sure does make me feel like I've got my thoughts more organized. Another reason to thank you is the way you wrote Paul has inspired me in more ways than you can imagine!

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this update, and thanks for commenting and voting. Don't think those of you who comment and/or vote every week/every time I update aren't noticed; you are, and greatly appreciated too. You make writing this fun.

Until next time. Here's some more photos of the boys at Granada to hold you over until then: