Four months earlier

Ruby stared down at the small blue velour covered box, wondering why she didn’t feel anything. All the women in the romance novels she read always screamed in joy, flung their arms around his neck, laughing, or burst in to tears - but Ruby, she didn’t really feel anything.

It wasn’t all that unexpected really. She’d known he’d been up to something. She’d suspected, but not quite dared to think...

‘Aren’t you going to say anything?’ Billy asked earnestly.

Ruby smiled. ‘It’s lovely.’

‘I didn’t ask what you thought about it.’

It was really quite lovely. A simple gold band with a square shaped small diamond solitaire, sitting in a royal blue ring box. It wouldn’t be a greatly expensive one, but Ruby would bet it still cost Billy a few weeks worth of wages. It was pretty without being too ostentatious  - he’d got it spot on, just Ruby’s style.

Ruby gave a half shrug. ‘Sure, why not?’

‘Why not?’ Billy snapped the box lid shut, irritably and got to his feet. ‘Don’t be too enthusiastic, Ruby. Lets just forget it then.’

‘Oh, no, Billy, I’m sorry,’ she stood up too, putting her hands over his. ‘I was... surprised that was all. Ask me again.’

‘No, forget about it.’

‘Please, Billy, I’m sorry...’

He gave an exaggerated sigh, but then looked down at her and smiled. Dropping onto one knee, he looked back up at her and opened the ring box, held out in front of him. ‘Ruby Hendry, will you marry me?’

‘Yes!’ she said straight away. ‘Yes, of course I will.’

                                                                                ***

Three months earlier

‘Here’s another from pop hit-makers, The Beatles!’ announced the radio, as a familiar harmonica and ‘da da da’s’ began to play in the background. ‘If there's anything that you want, if there's anything I can do, Just call on me and I'll send it along, with love from me to you!’

Ruby sighed as she spun the diamond engagement ring on the surface of the kitchen table. She should really stop taking it off and playing with it. She’d already scratched and scuffed the stone. She’d lose it and then Billy would be furious.

She slipped it back on her finger and studied it. It looked... strange on her hand. Not like a real engagement ring at all. It all felt pretend. It hadn’t quite sunk in that in a few months time she’d be Mrs William Fletcher.

The pan of vegetables bubbled on the stove. Ruby rose from the table to stir it.

Her mother had actually broken down in tears when she’d told her on the phone she was getting married. Her mother! Ruby couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her cry. Perhaps there wasn’t one.

‘I got lips that long to kiss you, and keep you satisfied...’  The Beatles continued. She could pick out John’s voice from the vocals. In a way he sounded just like he always had, but in other ways he was totally different. When she saw them in the paper or on Mrs. Jones’s telly, it was hard to think he was him, her John.

If things had been different, if they’d just... well, there wasn’t much point about thinking about the what ifs.

If things had been different, then John wouldn’t be on the radio right now; and Ruby wouldn’t be living here. She’d still be in Liverpool, probably living in some horrible little house, trying to scrape together a couple of pennies for the electric meter, fighting with John every night, who would drift from job to job...

At least, that’s what Ruby’s mother had always told her. And she’d been right, hadn’t she? It had all worked out for the best. John had The Beatles, and fame and success and Ruby had... well, Ruby had Billy.

It had been years since she’d seen him, but Ruby found her thoughts always drifted back to John. She couldn’t help but wonder, if she saw him again - what would he say, would he be the same or --

‘Listen up Beatle fans! We have some exciting news for all of you! The Beatles are coming to Llandudno this August to play - not one, not two, not even three - but five, that’s one, two, three, four, FIVE nights at the Llandudno Odeon! Tickets go on sale this Friday...’

Ruby jumped as the pot on the stove nearly boiled over. She turned the heat down and the volume on the radio up. This was it - this was fate, destiny bringing them back together again. Llandudno was a forty-five minute bus ride away. She could find out once and for all.

                                                                                  ***

Five years earlier

‘Come on, Ruby, we’re only young once!’ Clare implored her, taking Ruby’s hand and tugging her towards Hope Street. ‘Just one, I promise, then we’ll catch the bus back.’

‘This is because of that guy, isn’t it?’ Ruby asked suspiciously.

‘What guy?’ Clare asked, with mock innocence. ‘I don’t know who you’re talking about!’

‘Oh, no,’ Ruby laughed. ‘Course you don’t. What’s his name? Stephen something?’

‘Stuart, actually, since you asked.’ Clare grinned. ‘Oh please, Ruby! I can’t go into a pub on my own. Just come and have a coke or something and then we’ll go.’

Ruby twisted her mouth. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘My mother would go bananas if she thought...’

‘She won’t know, will she? Half an hour, that’s all we’ll be. Come on, Ruby, we’re not school girls any more, are we? We’re college students now - art college students! It’s about time we started acting like it.’

‘And drinking in backstreet pubs is the way to do that?’ But she was already allowing Clare to pull her towards the white building. Ye Cracke looked more like a house than a pub. A white building bordered in black timbers, with its front located down a narrow path, just of the busy Hope Street, but most importantly it was also the nearest pub to the Art College.

Inside the pub was dark and smoky, with most of the windows obscured by patterned or warped glass, or blocked out completely by the wooden interiors. It was only mid afternoon, but the pub was already full, mostly with labours, dockers and an odd old fella with a small dog on a piece of string.

Some students had taken up the space in the back room already, creating more than their fair share of noise. Clare ordered them both a coke from the bar - not quite brave enough to venture a ‘real’ drink.

‘There he is,’ Clare hissed. ‘No, don’t look!’

‘Where?’ Ruby asked, craning her neck to get a look at the illustrious love interest.

‘Over there, by the dart board,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t make it so obvious, Ruby!’

‘So go on then,’ Ruby said, looking back at Clare. ‘Go over there then.’

‘What? No, you can’t just march over there. Geez, Ruby, don’t you know anything about how these things work?!’

Ruby frowned. ‘So what are we supposed to do? Just wait around here and hope he notices you?’

‘No, we’ll play it cool for a while. I don’t want him to know that we came in here looking for him. And then in a bit I’ll walk past and just happen to notice - oh! Stuart! I didn’t see you there! - and strike up a conversation.’

‘That simple, eh?’ Ruby sipped her drink.

Clare nodded. ‘Let’s sit down,’ she said. ‘Some where I can keep an eye on him.’

‘I thought you weren’t supposed to have noticed him.’

Clare rolled her eyes. ‘Besides, only prossies stand by the bar.’

Ruby laughed and followed her to a small round topped wooden table with two free stools next to it, but as they sat down, repositioning themselves for a good view, without it being too obvious, Ruby felt her blood run cold.

‘Oh, shit,’ she whispered. ‘Look who he’s talking to, Clare.’

‘What? Who?’

There he was - talking with Stuart, cigarette in mouth again, bottle of brown ale in hand. Of all the bad luck. Why would it have to be him? That John.

‘No one, just some loser that used to hang around outside the girls school last year. He used to hassle me when I was waiting to catch the bus home. Threw my books in puddles and things like that.’

‘Really?’ It was Clare’s turn to strain her neck. ‘Him? He’s in the Life Drawing class, I think. He’s always acting like an idiot.’

Ruby nodded sagely. ‘Doesn’t surprise me.’

‘Still, just because Stu’s talking to some idiot, doesn’t mean - ‘

Ruby’s eyes widened. ‘I’m not going over there, not while he’s there!’ 

Clare tutted. ‘You don’t have to. You can just wait here for me. I’ll go and speak to Stuart.’

Ruby sighed shortly, ‘Fine, okay then. Just don’t bring them back over here.’

‘I wouldn’t do that, would I?’ Clare rose. ‘Right, wish me luck!’ she said, and without looking back walked across the bar room, past Stuart and him, that John, and then with a well practiced double take, Ruby could actually hear the surprised cry of - ‘Oh! Hello Stuart! I didn’t realise you drank in here too!’

Ruby watched them momentarily. Clare expertly slipped herself in front of Stuart, interrupting his conversation and putting her back to him, that John, who leaned back on the wall, sulkily swigging from his beer bottle.

Suddenly, as his eyes cast around the room, he met Ruby’s. Ruby looked away quickly, hoping he hadn’t seen her, feeling her cheeks blush.

A few seconds later she dared take another glance at them and - oh no! - he was walking towards her, right towards her. She caught Clare’s eye who was watching him go. Clare threw her a small shrug. Ruby shot her a glare back.

‘Hello, Ruby,’ John said, now standing directly in front of her. He sounded different, not quite so cocksure as he had been those few months ago. ‘Still ignoring me, eh?’ he asked when Ruby didn’t  reply.

‘No,’ Ruby replied primly. ‘That would mean that I cared what you do, or said, and I don’t. I don’t even remember your name.’

‘It’s John,’ he said with a smile and took that as invitation to sit down.

‘Someone’s sitting there,’ Ruby told him.

‘Yeah, I know. That Clare girl. But she’s talking to Stu right now, so I’ll just keep it warm for her until she gets back.’

Ruby bristled. Why wouldn’t this idiot take a hint?

‘I thought I’d seen you in the college,’ he continued. ‘The art school?’

‘Yes, I just started in September,’ she replied begrudgingly.

‘Do you want a drink?’

‘I’ve already got one, thank you.’

John peered over his glasses at her, and Ruby realised he was actually wearing glasses - he hadn’t when he used to wait outside the girl’s institute for her.

‘What is it?’

‘It’s none of your business.’

John pursed his lips. ‘You don’t have to be such a bitch, you know,’ he said evenly.

Ruby stared at him in shock. ‘Me?! I’m being a bitch?’

‘Yes. I’m only talking to you. I’m not gonna bite you, you know.’

‘Yes. I know that,’ Ruby replied, then instantly feeling stupid for saying it. ‘I just... I just want to be left alone. I don’t want to talk to you.’

‘Why? What have I done to yer?’

‘Do I really have to tell you? Hanging around to hassle me after school. You threw my books in the puddle that time...’

‘Jesus, you don’t half hold a grudge, do you? It’s not like I did it on purpose...’

‘Yes, you did! You - ‘ Ruby stopped herself as she felt the catch in her throat. She hated the way she always seemed to burst into tears at the drop of a hat, even when there wasn’t really anything to cry about, when she wasn’t even all that upset. She reached for a tissue in her skirt pocket.

Without another word, John stood, leaving his bottle on the table and returned to the corner he and his friends occupied. Ruby swallowed hard, turning away, determined not to cry in public. She’d just about gotten herself under control when he was suddenly back, standing right in front of her, just a bit too close, holding a hardback book under her nose.

‘Here,’ he said gruffly. ‘Take it. You can have it. To replace the one I ruined.’

Ruby took it and looked at it. Principles of Art History. The text book that John had dropped in the puddle. She took it from him tentatively and opened it - and then handed it straight back.

‘I can’t take it.’

‘Course you can. It’s the right one, isn’t it?’ John said, pushing it back towards her.

‘No,’ she said. ‘It says Stuart Sutcliffe inside it.’

‘Oh,’ John grinned. ‘Yeah, well, he won’t mind either. You have it.’

Ruby smiled weakly and put the book on the table.

‘Shall we start again?’ John said, perching on the stool next to her. ‘John Lennon,’ he offered her his  hand to shake. ‘Nice to meet you, Ruby.’

Ruby took his hand and shook it perfunctorily.

‘Now, what are you drinking?’

‘Oh, no,’ she replied. ‘I’m just having this, then I’ve got to go home.’

John tipped his chin at her. ‘You must live somewhere amazing, eh?’ he asked. ‘You’re always running off back there.’ He picked up her glass and took a small sip. ‘Coke?’ he said. ‘Just coke.’

‘Yes,’ Ruby said, feeling herself blush again and not really knowing why. There was nothing wrong with drinking a coke in a pub.

‘You can’t have that,’ John said. ‘Have a proper drink, at least!’ He stood up, still holding her glass. ‘Alf,’ he said to the barman, sliding the glass over the bar top to him.

‘Oh, no, that’s okay,’ Ruby said, getting to her feet too.

‘Too late,’ John said, smiling as he passed it back to her.

Ruby sipped it, and screwed up her face. It was horrid. It tasted bitter, even with the coke in it, and burnt when she swallowed it, making her cough.

‘You get used to it,’ John said and laughed at her as she stifled a coughing fit.

 John sat down again and Ruby smiled weakly at him, wondering how to get rid of him. He’d bought her a drink (albeit at his insistence) but she still didn’t fancy being stuck with him.

‘John?’ a voice said. Ruby looked up to a black haired, impossibly thin girl.

‘Oh, hello, Bet,’ John replied off handedly. Ruby wondered if there was anyone John didn’t know - certainly there weren’t many girls.

‘I haven’t seen you for a while,’ the girl continued, but she was looking at Ruby - in fact, if she didn’t know better, Ruby would say she was glaring daggers at her.

‘Worst luck, eh,’ John said.

‘What?’ Bet said sharply, sweeping round to him.

‘I said worst luck,’ John repeated, louder. ‘Mine, of course.’

‘Oh. Oh, yes,’ Bet replied, twirling a lock of her jet black hair. ‘So,’ she purred, ‘why don’t you get us a drink, Johnny?’

John glanced at Ruby. Ruby gave him what she hoped he’d interpret as a reassuring smile to show she wouldn’t mind if John went off to talk to this girl. John smiled back, but then said, ‘Nah, you’re alright, love. I’ve just spent me last coppers on Ruby, here.’

‘Did you now?’ Bet narrowed her eyes at Ruby. Ruby cringed inwardly, wishing the ground would swallow her up. She was sure Bet was about an inch from smacking her one.

‘Yeah, sorry. Maybe next time, eh?’

Bet turned back to John. ‘I heard your mother’s dead, John,’ she said viciously.

Ruby gasped, shocked at the nasty tone in the girl’s voice, but John didn’t even react. ‘Yeah,’ John replied, staring Bet right in the face. ‘That’s right,’ he said stoically.

‘Wasn’t it a policeman or something?’ she continued. ‘Who knocked her down.’

‘Yeah, that’s right,” John said again, equally as cool.

‘Shame,’ Bet said callously. Ruby stared at her, but John cast his eyes away, looking more bored than upset or offended. Hoisting her handbag higher on her shoulder, Bet moved away. John muttered something under his breath that Ruby didn’t catch.

‘What?’

John turned back to her and shook his head. ‘Nothin’’

‘She was such a...’

John smiled. ‘Yeah.’

‘Was it true, though? What she said?’

He ran his tongue over his teeth before answering. ‘Yeah. Happened a couple of months ago.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s... just one of those things,’ he said, stoically and swallowed the last of his drink. ‘Do you want another?’ He pointed to Ruby’s hardly touched glass. ‘I think I might join you with something a little stronger.’

                                                                                        ***

August 1963

John allowed the bedroom door to slam closed behind him, and the walls of the hotel seemed to shake. He stomped across the room; wondering how that short exchange with Ringo had managed to make him quite so angry. He wouldn’t tell John what Ruby had said - at least he’d made it apparent that he wouldn’t until John told him why it mattered to him so much.

And why did it? John asked himself. He hadn’t even heard Ruby’s name for over three years - he’d almost forgotten all about her. Almost.

Calming down, John tentatively approached the window again. Peering over, he moved the net curtain back, but the yard below was empty. She’d gone.

Retreating to the bed, John lay on top of it, covering his eyes with the back of his arm as he tried to think of something - anything - other than Ruby Hendry.

                                                                                 ***

Five years earlier

‘Stu!’ John rushed ahead to block his path. ‘You can’t just leave me with her!’

Stuart grinned at him, obviously enjoying John’s predicament. ‘Course I can,’ he told him. ‘She’s not my problem.’

‘Well, she’s not mine either!’ John declared, keeping one eye on Ruby, where he’d leaned her against the wall of the pub. She didn’t seem able to just stay in one place.

‘No? Who’s been plying her with drink all evening then?’ Stuart laughed.

‘She’s had four - five at most! How was I to know she can’t hold her drink?’

Stuart laughed again and tried to escape. John stopped him again. 

‘Where’s her mate anyway?’

‘Who’s that?’

‘That Clare girl.’

Stuart shrugged.

‘You were talking to her.’

‘Oh, that Clare.’

‘Yeah, that Clare.’

‘Dunno. Gone home, I suppose. Like I’m going to.’

John sighed at his apathy. ‘What am I supposed to do?’

‘I don’t know, Lennon. Put her on the bus home. Get her a taxi.’

‘Haven’t got enough money for a taxi.’

‘Bus will have to do then.’ Stuart pushed past John and started off towards Hope Street.

‘Fat lot of use, you are, Sutcliffe!’ John shouted after his disappearing figure. ‘I’ll remember this!’

Stuart just laughed as he walked away. John turned around again. Ruby was no longer leaning against the wall. She was now sitting on the floor in a rather uncomfortable looking cross legged position. John walked back and sat down on the curbside next to her.

‘How d’ you manage to get this pissed on five shots of whisky?’ he asked.

‘I feel funny,’ Ruby replied morosely.

‘Yeah, well, you look it. That rat Sutcliffe’s abandoned us. I don’t know where your friend went either, so it’s just you and me versus the world, love.’

‘I want to go home,’ Ruby said, ungracefully struggling to her feet.

‘Good idea,’ John said, getting up as Ruby teetered off. ‘Where do you live?’

‘You can’t come home with me!’ Ruby said, astounded.

‘No, and I wouldn’t want to. I’m just going to put you on the bus...’ Before he could finish the sentence, Ruby stumbled and John had to catch her before she fell. ‘You can get the bus and that on your own, can’t you?’ he asked, trying to steady her.

‘Yeah,’ Ruby said, pushing him away. He let her go, and then had to grab her back again as she swayed.

‘Really?’ John asked, doubtfully.

‘I’m fine.’

‘Perhaps I’ll have to get the bus with you,’ John said, trying to not sound annoyed. He hoped he’d have enough money for the journey back too, otherwise it’d be a long walk home. ‘Where do you live, Rube?’

‘Allerton.’

‘Allerton, right, which bus stop is it?’ John looked up and down Hope Street.

Ruby gave a shrug. John half walked, half dragged her to the nearest bus shelter, propping her against it as he checked the time table.

‘Should be one in about five minutes,’ he said, checking his watch. ‘That’s a stroke of...’ His voice faded away as he looked back to Ruby to find tears flowing down her cheeks. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked her, coming to stand next to her inside the shelter.

‘N... nothing,’ Ruby replied, hiccuping.

‘Crying for no reason then?’

Ruby nodded, then added. ‘My mother will murder me if she sees me like this...’

John smiled, folding his arms over his chest. ‘Ah, come on. Worse things happen at sea. That’s what my Auntie always says...’

Ruby sniffed loudly and turned away, searching in her pockets for a tissue. John found his handkerchief and offered it to her. ‘Seems we’re always doing this,’ John said as she took it and wiped her eyes. ‘Standing in bus stops, you crying your eyes out.’

Ruby laughed softly and gave him the hanky back. ‘I’m sorry for earlier...’

‘What? For drinking all my money and falling over?’

‘No, for the book and thinking you were y’know...’

‘So you’re not sorry for drinking all my money then?’

Ruby smiled weakly. John stepped in front of her and kissed her, putting his hands on her hips. Ruby hesitated for a moment, then kissed him back. A strange knotted feeling arose in John’s stomach, something like nerves, which was odd - he’d never usually felt nervous kissing birds. He never usually felt much. Except lust. Kissing was just the obligatory precursor to the better bits, wasn’t it?

And then that was followed a moment later by a wave of guilt. That was even stranger. What was there to be guilty about? But it was enough to make him break off the kiss and step back from Ruby. Ruby blinked at him, her face tear stained, large eyes a little red from crying. She was pissed. It wasn’t right to take advantage of her like that, when she didn’t know what she was doing.

He took his hands off her and turned away. So, John Lennon did have a conscious then. Who would have thought it?

Ruby cleared her throat. ‘I should have been home hours ago,’ she said morosely to John’s back. ‘My mother’s going to sling me out when I turn up like this.’

‘Why don’t you come back to mine for a bit then?’ John asked, softly, turning back to her. ‘Have a cup of tea, wash your face. We’ll come up with some excuse and then you can go home and yer mam will be none the wiser.’

Ruby raised her eyebrows at him, but nodded. ‘Do you live far off?’

‘Not that far.’

‘I could do with a cup of tea.’

                                                                                  ***

‘No!’ John barked at her, as if he was scolding a naughty puppy. ‘No, not the roses,’ he put his hands on Ruby’s shoulders and guided her gently in the direction of the front door.

Ruby seemed more drunk now than she had earlier. She’d complained of feeling sick, and then weaving their way from the bus stop to Mendips had proven a task and a half.

‘It’ s my Aunt’s bridge night,’ John told her, as he searched in his pocket for his front door key. ‘So we should have an hour or so to sober you up a bit. We’ll have to clear off well before she gets back though. You think your Mother’s bad - my Aunt Mimi would hang me if she thought I was bringing a bird back here!’ He smirked at her as he found the key and opened the door.

‘This is your Aunt’s house?’ Ruby asked.

‘Yeah,’ John said, closing the front door behind them. ‘Why?’

‘Don’t you live with your Dad?’

John stiffened. ‘Uh, no,’ he said briskly, switching the light on. ‘My Aunt Mimi. My mother’s sister. One of them anyway.’

‘Where’s your room then?’

‘Upstairs,’ John replied simply, taken aback by the question slightly.

‘Can I see it?’

‘Sure. If you want.’

‘Just to see it, mind,’ Ruby added with a smile.

John led her upstairs and flung the bedroom door open with a flourish. ‘My humble abode,’ he said as Ruby stepped inside.

‘It’s not like I expected,’ Ruby told him, standing in the middle of the room.

‘What were you expecting?’ John asked, but before she could reply, the front door banged closed again.

John’s eyes widened in panic. He put his finger to his lips to tell Ruby to be silent.

‘John?’ Mimi called shrilly. ‘Are you home?’

John turned and stepped back out onto the landing at the top of the stairs.

‘Mimi?’ He leaned over the bannister. ‘You’re back early.’ His voice sounded strained with the effort of appearing innocent. He was sure she’d know something was up.

‘Yes, I wasn’t really in the mood for it,’ she called back, from somewhere in the general direction of the kitchen. A light went on. ‘Are you going into college tomorrow?’

‘Yeah, later on.’

‘Make sure you do then,’ Mimi’s face appeared at the bottom of the stairs. ‘I’m going out early. Mrs  Green’s hip has been troubling her again. I’m going to get some shopping in for her.’

‘Okay. I’m... er, I think I’ll go to bed.’

‘So early?’

John nodded. ‘Yeah, I’ve got a bit of a headache.’

‘Hmm,’ Mimi said, slightly suspicious. For a moment John thought she would come up the stairs, but she disappeared off into the house again. He let out the breath he’d been holding and stepped back towards the bedroom.

‘John?’

He froze. ‘Yeah?’

‘Did you water the tomato plants?’

‘Oh, er, no, sorry, I forgot. I got back a bit late.’

‘Oh John. The one thing I asked you to do. Where have you been?’

‘At um, Stuart’s.’

‘More like at the pub.’

He waited a moment for her to say more, but when nothing came, he stepped back into the bedroom. ‘We’ll have to go out the window,’ he whispered to Ruby, returning to the room. ‘It’s not that far down. I’ve done it before...’ She was lying on his bed, fast asleep. John sighed and closed the door. ‘Ruby?’ he whispered. When she didn’t reply, he took the blanket from the foot of the bed and covered her with it. He settled himself in the armchair next to the bed, readying himself for a rather uncomfortable night.

                                                                                  ***

August 1963

‘Yeah?’ Ringo shouted from inside the room.

John pushed the door open. Ringo was propped up on the bed, a newspaper open next to him.

‘Thought you were sleeping?’ John asked, lingering in the doorway.

‘Is that why your knocking on my door?’

John stepped into the room and closed the door, leaning on it with his hands flat against the door behind him.

‘What’s troubling yer, John?’ Ringo asked.

‘That girl...’

‘Ruby? Yeah?’

‘Yeah, her.’ He couldn’t quite bring himself to say her name. ‘I didn’t quite tell you the full story before.’

‘Mmm, I guessed that actually.’ Ringo smiled.

‘She’s an old girlfriend.’

‘And that’s a problem because...’

‘She can only have turned up to cause trouble.’

‘Yeah? What, with Cynthia and that?’

‘Nah,’ John shook his head. ‘I don’t think she’d know about that. More because of something she knows... well, something I did, years ago.’

‘Really? What?’

John just looked at him in reply.

Ringo raised his eyebrows. ‘That bad, eh?’

‘Just... don’t talk to her, or tell her anything, okay?’

‘No plans to.’

‘Thanks, Ring.’ John opened the door again to go.

‘John?’

He turned back.

‘You alright?’

John nodded, forcing a lopsided smile. ‘Course. You know me, Ringo. I’m always alright, aren’t I?’