August 1963

George was loitering in the doorway of the dressing room. John couldn't say how long he'd been there. Could have been two minutes, could have been half an hour, John had been so deep in thought. Now though, George was in his eyeline; distracting, annoying.

'Either come in or go out,' John said to him eventually, not looking directly at him.

George stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. 'Fancy a cuppa?' he asked with a false cheerfulness.

John shook his head. 'Mal just...' His voice faded away as he realised the tea Mal had set down next to him had turned stone cold. 'Perhaps I will then,' he said, handing George the cup.

George took it and threw the contents down the small dressing room sink. He filled the kettle and then leaned on the sink as he waited for it to boil, looking at John in that strange way again, something obviously playing on his mind.

'Are we going back to the hotel?' John asked, as much to fill the void as anything else.

'Don't think so. Second show starts in twenty minutes.'

'Really?' John checked his watch. He'd been sitting in the same chair since the first show had ended - where had the time gone?

George smiled thinly. 'It's chaos out there. There were fans blocking the road from the end of the first show onwards. Police can't move them. Mal keeps shouting at the theatre staff to make sure no one gets backstage. They've already caught some girls trying to climb in a toilet window.'

John stiffened.

'No one we know,' George added hurriedly, as the kettle whistled. 'So we probably wouldn't have been able to get out of here and then back in time for the evening show, if we'd wanted to.' He poured the boiling water in to the teapot. 'Mal's worried.'

'What about?' John asked warily.

'You, mostly,' George mumbled, staring into the teapot.

'What?'

'Just... Just Paul winding it up.'

'That bloody big mouth. Why? What's he been saying?'

'Nothing.'

'George...'

'He thinks if you get upset about anything else you might try and run off.'

'What? What is this? A school playground? George, I'm not about to 'run off'.'

George chewed his lip.

'I'm not!' John insisted.

'No.'

'I'm not!'

'I didn't say you were, but...'

'What?!'

'Before. When you thought Ruby was in the audience.'

'Yeah, well. I just panicked a bit there. That's all. I'm fine now.'

'Sure?'

George handed him a mug of tea. It looked a bit weak and watery but John sipped it anyway. 'George,' John said, attempting a deadpan tone. 'When have I ever not been?'

'That's just it.' George sat down in the chair opposite John's, blowing the steam from his own mug. 'You always are 'fine.' So when you're not, they all go to pieces a bit.'

John snorted. 'Don't be daft.'

George shrugged. 'I said he was over-reacting. Paul, I mean. Unless... there's something I don't know about.'

John shook his head. 'There's nothing to know.'

'Good. Because Paul said not to tell you, in case you did anything... silly, but...'

'Tell me what?'

'But I think you should know. You need all the facts, don't you?'

John frowned, beginning to worry as he anticipated what George was about to tell him. 'George...'

'Ruby wasn't there, before, when you thought she was. But she is now. Out there, I mean.'

'She's what?'

George bit his lip again. 'Ruby's in the audience.'

***

Five Years Ago

How did she dare? How did she bloody dare sit there, carrying on with some drip in a poor fitting suit, as if it was the most natural thing in the world? She had some bloody front, that one, as Mimi was apt to say.

John sat stock still, seething, absolute rage bubbling just below the surface, watching her across the music hall. He didn't dare move. Even the slightest movement and that would be it. He wouldn't be able to stop himself. The momentum would end with him punching seven bells out of that - that fuckin' wanker she was with.

She hadn't seen John. At least he didn't think she had, but he'd clocked her as soon as she'd walked in. That was the thing about Ruby, wasn't it? John couldn't help but notice her whenever she walked in anywhere. He'd noticed her when she left school to catch the bus. He'd noticed her that first night at the Cracke. And now he'd noticed her when she waltzed in here, bold as brass, done up to the nines and with some tosser in tow.

She had her hair up, darker now, than the bright blonde it was the last time John saw her. She was wearing a black dress, nicely fitted with a pencil skirt than fell just below the knee, but John could see it riding up enticingly when she sat down at the table across the room. Sure, she wore some kind of pink gingham circus tent when she went on a date with John, but for this bloke, he got something out of a Brigitte Bardot movie.

Cynthia reappeared and sat down opposite John, blocking his view of Ruby. John fixed his stare on Cynthia instead. 'Where the hell have you been?' he growled.

Cynthia frowned at him, setting her hand bag on the table between them and rummaging in it for something. 'The toilets,' she replied simply. 'Like I told you.'

John straightened up. Looking properly at Cynthia he realised she'd changed her clothes. She found what she was looking for in her bag - a lipstick - and studied herself in a compact mirror as she painted it over her lips, a bright red.

John watched her for a moment before shifting in his seat to get a better view of Ruby, over Cynthia's shoulder. He hadn't seen or heard from Ruby since the afternoon at Stu's flat. She'd stood him up for their usual Friday night date, twice. Since she'd quit art school, John was at a loss to contact her. He didn't have her phone number. He only had a rough idea of where she lived, and with what she said about her mother he didn't think turning up on the doorstep was an option.

He had been coming round to the conclusion that she'd actually dumped him. As much as that hurt his pride. That's what she'd been trying to do, that day at Stu's, wasn't it? Except John wouldn't let her. Talked her out of it. He wished he hadn't told her all that stuff now. He wouldn't normally tell anyone just like that. What was so different about Ruby?

'Did you pack that bloke in?' he blurted suddenly.

Cynthia looked up from her handbag. 'Who?'

'That bloke. I told you to pack him in.'

Cynthia wrinkled her forehead at him, confused.

John dropped his voice. 'The one you were engaged to.'

'Oh! Barry?'

'Yes, Barry. What sort of name is that anyway?'

'What sort of name is John? But yes, ages ago. I told you that.'

'Good.' He felt for his cigarettes in his pocket and found the packet empty. He scrunched it up in his fist and threw it onto the table top. 'Gonna get some fags,' he told Cynthia and pushed his chair back. Ruby was laughing now - not just a bit, but a full on, throw your head back laugh.

'No need, I've got plenty,' Cynthia said, taking out her own cigarette case. She offered John one. He hesitated but then took it.

What was so bloody funny anyway?

What was funny - what was fucking hilarious - was that John had fallen for all that chat. That line she'd spun him about her mum being a dictator, no boyfriends allowed, no life, no going out, not til you're at least thirty-two. Didn't look that way now. Looked like Ruby had found herself a new fella pretty bloody quick.

'...John? John, did you hear a word I said?' Cynthia waved a hand in front of his face.

'What?' he snapped, annoyed.

'What's wrong with you tonight? You're all distracted and distant...' She looked round the room, trying to fathom what John was staring at. John looked away guiltily. 'Is that that girl from college? The one who dropped out?'

'What? Who?' John said, attempting an innocence that didn't come off.

'There, over there with a guy in a brown suit. What was her name?' Cynthia turned back to him. 'You know her, don't you?'

John looked at Ruby pointedly. 'Nah, I don't know her,' he said flatly.

Cynthia frowned. 'Yes, you do. I've seen you with her.' She sounded suspicious.

'Oh, that girl? She's friends with Claire that Stu went out with a couple of times.'

'Should we go over and say hello..?'

'No!' John said much more forcibly than he meant to. 'I mean, it's just us tonight, isn't it? We don't want any gooseberries.'

'Aw, John,' she reached for his hand. 'You can be so sweet when you want to be.'

John took her hand, stealing another glance at Ruby, hoping she might have noticed. She hadn't, of course. He smiled at Cynthia and she smiled back at him, all dewy eyed and adoring. That's what he needed. A girl like Cyn, who wanted to be with him and didn't make him trot all over town trying to please her. You knew where you were with Cyn. She didn't stand him up or keep him waiting in the rain. And another thing, she wasn't always pushing him away when he tried to kiss her - or a bit more. Yeah, Cyn was his girl now. Sod bloody Ruby Hendry. He needed someone like her like he needed a hole in the head.

'Want a drink?' he asked, standing up.

'Oh, yes, please, I'll have a --'

But John wasn't listening. Instead his feet were carrying him across the music hall, moving faster than his brain could catch up with him, and before he knew it, he'd grabbed that tosser - that bloody wanker - by his cheap suit lapels and practically lifted him out of his chair. His face almost nose to nose with him as he snarled, 'What the fuck do you think you're doin', mate?'

'John!' Ruby's voice, sounding genuinely surprised and more than a bit horrified.

'You think it's clever to carry on with someone else's bird, do yer?'

'John! Let him go!'

'I don't... I don't...' the bloke stammered, looking like he was about to cry.

'I said let him go!' Ruby at at him now, trying to manoeuvre herself in between the two of them, but John still gripped him fiercely.

'Did you bring him here on purpose?' John demanded of her. 'To rub it in my face?'

'Don't be stupid! I didn't know you'd be here.'

'You bloody tart! How many blokes are you carrying on with?'

'We're not 'carrying on' at all - we're just friends!'

'Dressed like that? Bollocks.'

He was getting rather heavy to hold up now, so John dropped him roughly back into his seat. The tosser held his hands up covering his face and wailed, 'No, please, don't hit me!' in such a manner it actually made John pause and that was when the bouncer jumped on John's back and wrestled him to the floor.

Two minutes later he was on his arse on the pavement outside, wiping a smear of bright red from his split lip onto his shirt cuff - a wayward elbow from the bouncer, who now bore down on him, shouting, 'Yer barred! Don't come back here! I'll remember yer face!' before he turned and stomped back into the hall.

Before John could pick himself up, his anger now strangely drained away to nothing, both sets of double doors at the entrance to the music hall opened, Ruby in one and Cynthia at the other.

'John!' they both said at the same time and then turned to look at each other in surprise.

John staggered to his feet, careful not to look at either girl and finding for possibly the first time in his life, he didn't know what to say. Ruby and Cynthia stared at each other.

'You don't know her, then, John?' Cynthia asked sarcastically. 'You're a bastard, John Lennon!'

John opened his mouth to reply but Cynthia slapped his face before he could. It hurt a little bit more than it should due to the split lip. 'Hey,' he said, slightly dazed but Cynthia was already walking away.

Ruby was staring at him, seemingly unable to find words either. Instead she just shook her head at him, turned and walked in the opposite direction.

John stood, unable to decide who to follow. Cynthia had already rounded the corner, so he took off after Ruby. He could catch up with Cyn at college, but he might not get another chance to speak to Ruby.

'Oi,' he said, levelling with her. 'Where do you think you're going?' He took her elbow to try and stop her, but she wrenched it away from him.

'Ruby...' John moved in front of her, blocking the path.

She stopped, folding her arms across her chest and refusing to look at him. 'Get out of the way,' she said quietly.

'Just a minute...'

'What?' She looked at him now. There were tears brimming in her eyes. John felt a twinge of guilt. 'What do you want, John? Aren't you happy now, you've ruined it all?'

'Ruined it? What? Your little soiree with that prick in there?'

'That is what you'd think, isn't it?' She shook her head at him again, then turned and went to sit on a bench beside a bus stop, her back to him and her head in her hands.

'What else?' he said to her back, defiantly. 'I haven't seen you in weeks, not a word, and then you walk in with some other bloke.'

She ignored him so he walked around to the front of the bench and stood in front of her. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, looking down the road, supposedly for the bus. 'Just... just go away, John.'

'No, I will not 'go away, John.' Don't you think you owe me an explanation?'

'Why do I need to explain anything to you? You were the one who was actually in there with that... another girl.'

John shifted his weight from one foot to another. 'Don't be daft. I wasn't...'

'I saw her, John,' she said flatly. 'And I also saw her slap you. Why else would she do that?'

John shrugged. 'She's got the wrong end of the stick.' Ruby just shook her head at him disbelievingly again. It was starting to annoy him. 'So c'mon, then,' he said, testily, 'who was he then?'

'He's the director of a theatre group. A theatre group I was trying to become a member of. Don't think that's happening now.'

John scoffed. 'Right. A theatre group. What do you want with a theatre group?'

'What do you think? To act in it. To try and become an actress. Is that so stupid?'

'You... you never said anything about that before.'

'Why would I? So you can just take the piss?'

'I wouldn't have.'

'Of course you would,' she said quietly. 'Because that's just who you are, John. You'd think it was stupid. You would take the piss. And if you see me with someone you don't know - do you ask me who he is first? No, you've got to wade in there, fists first, think later.'

'That's... that's not true,' John sat down next to her, deflated now. 'I wouldn't take the piss out of you, Rube.' She just gave him a withering look. 'Well, alright, where is he then? I'll go and explain.'

'It's too late. He's gone. He said he was too upset and would have to go to lie down and recover.'

John frowned. 'What? I didn't even touch him. What is he? Some kinda -- oh.'

Ruby sniffed. 'Yes. And if you'd taken 2 minutes to speak to me first, you'd know that.'

'Well, at least I care enough to try and smack someone.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Just that, Ruby. Do you... You don't seem to care, that's all.' He was interrupted by the arrival of a double decker green bus. Ruby got up and John stood with her. 'Do you?' he asked. 'Do you give fuck, Ruby?' He said it tonelessly, as devoid of emotion as he could.

Ruby looked at him once and then got on the bus.

***

August 1963

'George!' Paul stood in the doorway to the dressing room, Ringo hesitating behind him. 'What did I say?! What part of 'don't tell John' was so difficult to understand?'

George shrugged. 'He needed to know.'

'Did he? Really?' Paul came into the room. Ringo slipped in behind him, closing the door quietly. 'You know what nearly happened before!'

'What nearly happened before?' Ringo echoed, a worried expression on his face. 'Am I missing something?'

Paul turned back to him. 'John... he was thinking of walking out...'

'He is still in the room, you know,' John said, getting out of the chair for the first time since the show had ended. 'You don't have talk about me like I'm not.'

'You were going to walk out?' Ringo asked, incredulously.

'No,' John said firmly. 'I was not.'

Paul shot him a look.

'Bugger off, Paul. You know I wouldn't have actually gone.'

'I know that you thought you'd seen that girl out there and you were all ready to throw down your guitar and do a runner.'

'I wasn't... I was just over-reacting, that's all.'

Paul shook his head. 'You were going. If George and I hadn't stopped you...'

Ringo came closer to John. 'You were walking out on us?' he asked, his face searching John's.

'No. Ring, of course not.'

'I don't get it. What's got into you? What's got you so rattled about Ruby turning up?'

'Nothin'.' He saw George and Paul exchange a look.

So had Ringo. 'What don't I know?' he asked, starting to sound angry. 'I know you three... share history and that, but we're supposed to be a group now.'

George and Paul looked at each other again. John frowned, wondering if they knew a bit more than he thought. John certainly hadn't told a soul - apart from Stu - but things like this had a habit of getting around. Especially in a town like Liverpool.

'I asked you earlier what Ruby was to you, and you said nobody,' Ringo said to John, his voice getting a little more agitated.

'Well, alright. That's not strictly the case,' John replied. 'We used to go out, years ago. That's all.'

'With Ruby?'

'Yeah.' He looked at Paul and George again.

'And that's so bad, why?'

'It's not...'

Ringo turned to Paul. 'How come you're all acting so bloody weird, then?'

Paul shrugged. 'I know as much as you do, Ring.'

'Well, that's obviously not true.'

'Honest. I have no idea why he's acting like this. All I want is to keep this bleedin' band together. We've been working so hard for it, and now we're finally makin' it, he wants to throw it all away because some old flame's come out of the woodwork.'

'I wish you'd stop talking about me like I'm not here.'

'Look, John, something's going on. Don't you think you ought to tell us?' George said, quietly.

John turned to him, then back to Paul and Ringo. 'It's nothing, really,' he said, trying to keep his voice even. 'We used to go out. We split up. She wasn't very happy about it, so it's odd that she's turned up here wanting some kind of reunion.'

Ringo frowned. 'She didn't even say anything about you outside the hotel.'

'She was calling my name.'

'And you ignored her. I don't know, John... she didn't seem that upset about it.'

Someone knocked on the dressing room door. 'Ten minutes!'

***

Five Years Ago

'There you are,' Stu said, pushing a bottle of brown ale into John's hand. 'Whatcha doin' out here? It's freezing brass monkeys!'

'Nothin'. Just waitin'.'

'Oh yeah? Which one this time?'

John frowned at him, feigning confusion, although he knew exactly what Stu meant.

He was leaning against the cold brick wall to the side of Ye Cracke, facing up the street towards Hope Street and the direction Ruby would walk from. If she was coming at all, that was. He'd been waiting for her for the last half an hour. He'd usually wait inside, where it was, admittedly, much warmer, but he couldn't stand in there with the others and make small talk. He'd turn every time the door went. He couldn't keep his mind on what they were saying, wondering if she'd turn up, so he'd figured he might as well wait outside - at least until he was sure she wasn't gonna come. Seeming as she'd stood him up the last couple of times, and after that scene at the music hall, the chances of her keeping their date were slim to say the least.

'You need your head examined, kid,' Stu admonished him, leaning on the wall next to him.

'Why's that?'

'Two birds at once? It'll drive you mad. Too much hassle in my book.'

'Yeah? Well, what would you know about it?'

'I know that a certain Mr. Lennon is no longer welcome at the Mecca music hall after a rather ugly fracas last Tuesday.'

John scoffed and took a swig of the beer. It was warm, but it was so cold outside that it didn't seem to matter. 'Good news travels fast, doesn't it?'

Stu shook his head at him. 'That Cynthia's a nice girl, isn't she?'

'Yeah,' John replied carefully.

'So whatcha messing her about for?'

'I'm not.'

'That's not what she says.'

'Why? What's she said?'

Stu shrugged.

'You should know better to listen to gossip. Me and Cyn -- we're nothing serious. I've seen her down the pub a couple of times. That's all. It's not like we're going out.'

'Did you or did you not take her to the Mecca on Tuesday?'

'Yeah, but...'

'And then did you or did you not, see your other bird with another fella so you went and thumped him?'

'Am I on trial or somat? No, I did not 'thump' him.'

Stu raised his eyebrows, disbelievingly. 'Where'd that come from then?' He pointed to John's lip. The swelling had gone down after a day, but the cut was still there.

'The bouncer,' John said, shortly. 'Bloody thugs, them lot.'

'You're unbelievable, John.'

'Thanks.' He smirked at him.

'You're getting into a lot of scraps recently too.'

'And this will be the next one if you're not careful.'

Stu straightened himself up and nodded down the street. 'Well, you must be doing something right. They keep coming back for more, don't they?'

John followed his gaze to see Ruby, walking towards the pub. He straightened his back, glancing down at what he was wearing and smoothing his shirt down. Stu raised his eyebrows at him, 'See yer inside, eh?' he said, and slipped back into the crowded pub as Ruby approached.

'You're here,' John said weakly.

'Nothing gets past you, does it?'

He smiled thinly. 'I didn't think you'd come.' He coughed, clearing his throat, wondering fleetingly why he suddenly felt so nervous. 'It's freezing out here, lets go in.'

'Um, just a moment. Can I have a word with you?'

John nodded. Here it comes then. He'd been an idiot to expect anything else really.

'Not here,' Ruby said as an old man came out of the pub door, squeezing in between them with an emphatic sigh. 'Somewhere more... private?'

'Er, well, Stu's flat is...'

'No, I meant, round there or something.' Ruby pointed to the back of the pub where there was a small enclosed yard. 'Just where no one can hear us.'

John followed her around the corner of the building. The back yard was in darkness. In the summer there would be benches and chairs out here, but in the winter months it was empty except for the beer barrels lined up against the far wall. John leaned against one, crossing his arms across his chest and waited.

Ruby crossed her arms too and looked down at her feet, scuffing her shoes on the ground. 'I just wanted to say that I do... care, John,' she said falteringly.

John blinked. 'Oh,' he said surprised.

Ruby looked at him. 'That's what you said, when I got on the bus - do I care.'

'Yeah, I remember.'

'I know it might seem like I don't, but I do care about you, John. I'm sorry I've not been around. My mam's been working nights. She looks after the neighbours kids but if she's on nights then I have to do it...'

John took a couple of steps closer to her tentatively.

'...So I'm sorry I've not... y'know.'

'It's alright,' he said casually. He put his hands on her waist, gingerly, half expecting her to push him away, but she didn't.

She smiled wanly at him. She looked nice when she smiled. She always seemed to have a scowl or a frown on her face, like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. When she finally smiled it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.

'I've... I've never had a proper boyfriend before. I guess I don't really know how to behave...'

'I can teach you...' John mumbled, as he began to nuzzle at her neck, small feathery kisses, his fingers working at the buttons of her coat as he felt her arms move around him. Under the coat she was wearing the same black dress she wore at the music hall. 'This is nice,' he said, running his hands over the smooth fabric.

'It's new,' Ruby told him, shyly. 'I got my first pay packet.'

'I like it. You should wear more stuff like this.' And not like that awful pink thing, he added in his head.

'I thought I'd get something a bit more fashionable. Like what your other girlfriends wear.'

John stepped back from her a little. 'I haven't got any other girlfriends, Ruby. Only you.' This was technically true, since Cynthia wasn't speaking to him following Tuesday night.

Ruby gave a small shrug. 'My wardrobe mostly consists of things my mum's bought for me. It's all a bit... frumpy.'

John laughed. 'You should see some of the old man get up Mimi wants me to wear. I sometimes have to go out with my proper clothes on underneath, otherwise she'd never let me outta the house.'

Ruby smiled. 'I've done what you asked too.'

'What's that?'

'I told my mum that I didn't want to split up with you. And that you were gonna come round for tea and meet her.'

'Not in quite those words, I hope.'

She shook her head. 'She's not very happy about it, but she agreed to meet you and that. We can see how it goes.'

'That's not so bad then.' He moved in closer to her again, gently kissing her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair.

'Next Thursday night.'

'Mmm?'

'Come round for your tea next Thursday.'

'Right... oh.' He stopped and drew back again. 'Next Thursday?'

'Yes?'

'I can't, Rube, we've got a gig.'

Ruby's face fell. 'Oh John, that's the only night she's not working.'

'Can't you change it?' He ran his hand through his hair. 'It's this talent show thing, in Manchester,' he explained. 'We're though to the final round. I can't cancel it.'

She shook her head sadly. 'If you know what I had to go to get her to agree to that... I thought it was Saturdays you normally played?'

'We have to play anytime we can get a gig. This is different though. We went through two rounds. Thursday's the final.'

She smiled faintly. 'With your band? The Quarrymen?'

'We're Johnny and The Moondogs now, actually.'

She sighed. 'It's alright, John. It doesn't matter.' The look on her face told him it obviously did matter.

'Don't worry about it, Rube,' he said a lot more casually than he really felt. 'We haven't got to be there til about eight. I can come to yours and then get the train to Manchester after.' He hoped that was true. He hadn't thought to check the train times yet. It didn't take long to get over to Manchester, but there was only one train an hour. At the same time, he didn't want to risk falling out with Ruby again. He needed her to know he was serious about her - he had to blink in surprise at that thought, he'd only just realised it himself.

Ruby smiled, looking relieved. 'Yes, John, that would be perfect. You've no idea how difficult it was to get her to agree to it. She'd flip if I said we'd have to change it.'

***

August 1963

It was incredible. There could be no other word to describe it. She'd seen the stories about the concerts on the news, but nothing could prepare you for experiencing it first hand.

Ruby sat in her seat, almost frightened to move. The rest of the audience seemed to pulsate with an insuppressible energy, rebounding off the walls of the small Odeon Theatre with nowhere to escape to. The screams were deafening, and they hadn't even come out onto the stage yet. Ruby felt a bit sorry for all the other acts, staggering their way through their sets while no one listened.

'Jooooooooooohhhhhnnnn!' A young girl sitting next to Ruby suddenly screeched. Ruby cringed a little. It was the fourth time she'd done that.

Ruby tried to check the time on her watch. It was just too dark to see it properly, but she thought the show was over running a bit. The last bus home went about fifteen minutes after the show ended. She'd miss it if it overran too much.

As she glanced down, she couldn't help but stare at her ring finger - now conspicuously missing an engagement ring. She'd failed to find it on the rocks on the beach, even though she'd searched and searched until it was time to go to the theatre. Billy would be so upset. She didn't have a clue how she'd find the words to tell him she'd lost it.

On the stage, Billy J Kramer and The Dakotas finished their final song, bowed and hurried off to the side. The compere emerged from the opposite wing and the screams went up a notch. The Beatles would be on next.

The compere tried in vain to hush the crowd, but only succeeded in making them louder still. Even Ruby couldn't help but get caught up in it now as she realised she was sitting on the edge of her seat. The compere finally gave in. With a large grin, he announced - just barely audible - 'The BEATLES!'

More screaming. Everyone got to their feet, Ruby with them. She was only in the third row from the front, but if you didn't at least stand up, you wouldn't see a thing. Some people near by climbed on their seats.

'JOOOOHHHNNNN!' the girl next to Ruby screamed again. Ruby looked at her. She didn't appear to be much over fourteen or fifteen. It was so strange to think the object of her affections was John - Ruby's John.

From the wings of the stage, they finally appeared. Ringo first, climbing up on to the raised platform where his drum kit waited. Closely behind him was George and then John and Paul. Ruby thought she saw Paul give John a small shove. They jogged onto the stage and took up their usual positions - Paul over to the left side, George and in the middle and John on the right. Ruby had deliberately chosen a ticket on this side of the stalls to be closer to him. Of course, that was before she'd realised he'd turned into such a pompous arse -- Did he just look directly at her?!

They began with She Loves You; the opening drum and a couple of bars just about audible over the crowd. Ruby could have sworn he looked right at her - just before the song started, John's eyes had met hers. But, he couldn't see her from up there, could he? Even if he could, he wouldn't have known where she was sitting, would he? She glanced round at the other members of the audience. They probably all thought their favourite Beatle was looking right at them.