May opened her eyes. Bright sunshine streamed in through the window. She lay on the bed under an old dustsheet, alone. Perhaps it was just a dream, she thought looking at George’s old picture on the table. But if it was, who ate the sandwich?

She tiptoed down the stairs cautiously. The house looked like an entirely different place in the light. Gone was the shadowy gothic mansion, and replacing it was a sunny, Edwardian Welsh cottage. The front door was wide open. She went to it and looked out. The sun was shining down on the overgrown garden and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. She could see what she guessed was George’s car at the end of the driveway, parked without much care. So he hasn’t left then, she thought, but there was no sign of the Beatle.

May stepped outside and picked her way around the side of the house in her bare feet. George, still dressed in what he had slept in, was fiddling in an electricity box. He looked up as she approached.

“Bin cut off,” he said, “Thought it might have just been switched off but… apparently not.” He closed the box door and clicked it shut. “Ah well, that’s what you get for ‘borrowing’ other peoples houses.” He walked past her, back towards the front of the house. “Dunno about you,” he said over his shoulder as May followed him, “but I could eat a scabby horse. Wanna go into the town for somat to eat?”

“The town?” she asked, unsure. No one really knew her to speak to her, but they knew who she was and once they saw her black eye she and Jack would be the talk of the town. Scratch that, when I turn up with a black eye and George Harrison in tow, they won’t stop gossiping about it for years!

“It’ll be alright,” George told her, “We’ll, er… keep a low profile.”

May dashed up the stairs to fetch her shoes. She put them on, sitting on the side of the bed where she and… she and George had slept! She couldn’t remember actually falling asleep, but they had been talking, then she’d started crying and George had hugged her to him, and, yes, she must have fallen asleep then! Losing my husband and sleeping with a Beatle all in one day, she thought incredibly, ah, but, perhaps not. Maybe he’d left after I fell asleep. Oh, he probably did. She suddenly felt disappointed but then told herself how silly that was. The whole situation was so surreal; she wouldn’t be surprised if she woke up any moment. Or stopped hallucinating. Not yet though, I hope!

George was waiting for her by the door when she came down the stairs. He grinned, “You won’t need that,” he indicated to the coat she was zipping up and then to the sunny skies outside.

“Yeah, well, I know what the Welsh weather is like.” Plus I’ll be able to hide inside the hood, she thought.

George opened the car door for her and waved her in with a grandiose gesture. “Your carriage, Ma’am.”

May got in the passenger side and George closed the door. He ran round and got in beside her. “Right,” he said, lighting a cigarette, “Where’s good for a bit of scran round here then?”

“Er… there’s a café in the town.” May said. The town had a couple of seaside greasy spoon cafés and there were a few restaurants open in the evening but except for that, eateries were slim pickings. Especially out of the holiday season and it was only just March.

“Fab,” George said brightly and started the engine. “I could just eat a bag of fish and chips.”

“For breakfast?!”

“Yeah.” He moved the car out of the drive and onto the road. “You gotta have fish and chips by the seaside!”

May laughed, “I’m not sure they’ll be open this early.”

“Oh really?” George sounded genuinely disappointed. “Have to be a full English then. Oh, remind me to stop at a phone box,” he added, remembering he should call home and let them know he hadn’t been kidnapped.

“George?” May asked, hesitantly, “What are you doing here?”

“Going for a bit of brekkie?” he replied facetiously.

“In Wales, I mean?”

“Oh,” he stalled, wondering if he should tell her. He was used to being quite careful about who got to know what information. Then again, she was honest with me he reasoned. “I ran away,” he told her and caught a glimpse of his bruised eye in the rear view mirror. Had nearly forgot about that. “We make a right pair, don’t we?” he asked, changing the subject. “We match, like Chinese dogs.”

He turned to her and grinned, but his previous comment hadn’t escaped May’s attention.

“Run away?” she asked, “From what?” The idea that anyone would want to run away to Wales was beyond her, but that someone like George who must lead such an idyllic, exciting life would want to do that was incomprehensible.

George shrugged. “I literally got back from America a week ago. I think I’m still jet lagged. Then the next day we recorded a variety show thing, and since then it’s been solid recording, and the BBC thing…I just needed to get away for a bit. But there’s no way I was gonna get some time off, so I just went.”

“Without telling anyone?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t do that, they’d only talk me out of it.”

“George! You can’t just go missing!”

“S’alright, I’m gonna ring ‘em in a bit, then I’ll let them drag me back to London again. The other day Ringo had to get a plane from Liverpool to London just to make it back in time to record ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’.”

“’Can’t Buy Me Love’?”

“Mmm, latest Beatle masterpiece, or ‘vociferous racket,’ depending on your view.”

“But George, you’ll be on the news! Beatle goes missing!”

“D’ya think so?” he asked, suddenly worried, “Nah, I don’t reckon Brian would let it get out this early,” he said, reassuring himself more than anything. Brian was not going to be happy, but if the papers had got on to it then things were gonna be a thousand times worse. They wouldn’t be able to go to the toilet without informing the management!

They reached the town and George parked the car. The town was pretty quiet and nobody appeared too amazed at the sight of a Beatle arriving. They found a small dingy café and George ordered them two full English breakfasts. May sat down at a table in the window, but George waved her over to a table at the back of the room near the kitchen.

“Not by the window, eh?” he told her. “Supposed to be inconspicuous, ain’t we?”

“Sorry,” she said and moved.

George poured them two cups of tea from a stained teapot with a leaky spout and spooned two heaped teaspoons of sugar into his.

“Where should you be really then?” May asked in a hushed voice.

“Er, Abbey Road, again. Recording,” he said after considering it a moment. “But not till later on anyway. I missed a photo shoot yesterday, but I couldn’t go with this anyway.” He pointed to his eye. “And tomorrow, bright and early, I’m supposed to be at Paddington Station for filming.”

A middle-aged waitress with her hair scooped up in an untidy bun set down two plates swimming in grease. She raised her eyebrows at George, catching the end of what he was saying. “You look like a couple of pandas,” she told them in a broad Welsh accent, then disappeared back into the kitchen.

“Filming what?” May asked when she had left.

“Don’t your read your ‘Beatles Monthly’?” George teased.

I would if I could afford to buy it, May thought, but just she shook her head.

“It’s a film about us,” George said, tucking into his breakfast, “And our madcap, zany lives!” he added sarcastically, “So I’ll have to go back tonight at the latest. But let’s not think of that right now. What are… er, your plans anyway?”

“I’ll leave,” May replied quickly, “Thanks for letting me stay last night. I know I shouldn’t have broken in like that but… I couldn’t think of where else to go.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” George said dismissively, “And, er… stay there for a bit, if you need to. It’s not my house, but it shouldn’t be a problem if you want to, I’ll ring me Mam and let her know.”

“That’s okay, George, thanks, it’s kind of you though.”

“Where are you going then?” George asked gently.

“Home, I guess.”

“To your husband?”

“Jack, yes.”

George shook his head gravely. “Don’t do that, May.”

May didn’t reply, looking down at he half eaten breakfast and hoping George would drop the subject.

“Don’t go back to him.” George continued, quietly, “I know it’s none of my business but May, you don’t deserve to be treated like that. No one does.”

May remained silent, feeling a lump appear in her throat. She swallowed it.

George sighed and leaned back, “How old are you?”

“Twenty.”

“I didn’t think you were much older. When did you get married?”

“Ten months ago. I was nineteen.”

“Childhood sweethearts?”

“Not really. I met Jack in London at university.”

“Then don’t you think you got hitched a bit fast? You could hardly have known him.” A thought occurred to him, “You weren’t pregnant, were yer?”

“No.” May sighed mournfully and sniffed, “That’s what my parents thought.”

George put his knife and fork down and put his hand on top of hers, across the table. “Sorry, didn’t mean to upset you. It’s none of my business,” he repeated, “But…well, I don’t think you should, that’s all.”

They finished the meal in silence and George paid. They walked back to the car and got in. May thanked him for the food but George just grunted a reply. Well done, May, she told herself miserably, now even George is annoyed with you. You really will be all alone at this rate.

They drove back towards the house but then without warning George pulled the car over onto a grass verge. “Phone box,” he told May and got out.

He was being unfair, he knew. He had known battered wives back in Liverpool when he was growing up. A lot of them had tended to put up with it and he could imagine May going down the same path. Well, it’s nothing to do with me, he thought, although he couldn’t help but think it was. In a way, she came to me for help. He pulled the heavy red door to the phone box open and stepped in. I could just ring the police, he thought suddenly, report that Jack fella for assault and battery, but when the operator answered, he asked for the NEMS press office in London instead.

The phone at Monmouth Street rang out for ages and George began to wonder if perhaps they’d moved to the new NEMS headquarters a week early. The offices were mainly still in Liverpool but a new office had been arranged at Argyll Street that would centralise all of NEMS in the capital. Eventually however, Alistair Taylor picked up the receiver.

“Alright?” George said calmly.

“George!” Alistair practically screamed down the phone, “Where have you been?! Where are you?!”

“Uh, I… I had to do something,” he lied.

“What? Without telling anyone? Hang on, I’ll have to put you through to Brian.”

Brian answered the phone with his usual grave, businesslike tone. “George, you can’t just disappear like that,” he told him.

“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” George said.

“Where are you?”

George coughed. “Wales.”

“Wales?!” Brian shouted back, loosing his composure for an instance. George grinned, imagining his face. “What are you doing in Wales? The film is tomorrow, or have you forgotten?”

“No, it’s okay, I’ll be back by then.”

“George, whatever possessed you…”

“A friend of mine needed some help,” he said, thinking it sounded better than the actual explanation.

“What friend? Who? What’s going on, George?”

“I’ve got to go, the pips have gone!” George lied again, and put the phone down.

He pushed the door open again and went back to the car.

“What did they say?” May asked as he got in.

George laughed. “They weren’t best pleased, let’s just say that.”

He drove her back to the house and May rushed inside to gather up her things. George paused, standing in the driveway where he had been standing, staring at the sky, the night before. He felt uneasy, just letting her leave like this. He sighed and followed her towards the house. May met him at the doorway with her bag.

“I’ll get out of your way then,” she said apologetically, “Thanks George.” Mustering all her courage she leant over and kissed his cheek. She turned to go but George caught hold of her. She looked back into his eyes, struck again by how comforting it was looking into them.

“Don’t go yet,” he said, “what kind of house guest are you, just running off like that?” He smiled. “At least wait and I’ll drive you back to the town, if that’s really what you want to do.”

May hesitated. I’d really want to stay with you, she thought, it had been such a strange experience being with George but every moment of it had been perfectly wonderful, at least it would have been had she not been so preoccupied with her own problems.

Her first instinct had been to go home, back to Manchester, but the more she had thought about it the more convinced she had become that they would hardly greet her with open arms. They had washed their hands of her. Or her Father had at least. Besides, she had given no thought to how she would get there. The train was expensive and she had only what few pennies were in her pockets now. And the only other option was to go and hope Jack would take her back. They were married now after all, and she still loved him of course, that must deserve another chance, she thought. I’m sure if we could just get past these money problems and get on out feet a bit, then things will be a lot easier.

“Yes,” she told George, quietly.

“Why don’t you go back to your parents for a bit?” he asked as if he were reading her mind, “Or to a friend’s or somat? Think it over a while?”

“I haven’t got any friends, not here anyway, and my parents won’t have anything to do with me since I married Jack.”

George sighed. Figures, he thought. “I think you’re being rash,” he said, “Yesterday that man threw you out and smacked you in the eye, and today all is forgiven? May, c’mon. What makes you think he’ll be a changed man today?”

“You don’t know me, you don’t know Jack. You don’t know anything about it, so, like you said, it’s none of your business,” she snapped back, flaring up in anger.

“Yeah, you’re right.” George said flippantly and let go of her.

May stood there, then flung her arms around George’s neck, uncomfortably reminding him of the fan from the previous day.

“I’m sorry George,” she said, muffled in George’s neck, ‘Please don’t be angry.”

George put his arms around her waist loosely.

“It’s alright,” he said soothingly, “I’m not cross, but what sort of friend would I be if I thought you were making a mistake and I didn’t tell you?”

“We’re friends?” May asked, leaning back from him.

“Sure,” George promised.

“George, I know a lot of girls probably say this to you, but, well, you mean so much to me. I don’t know why, because I hardly know you really, but… it’d be horrible if you left here and I knew you were out there in the world somewhere, angry and annoyed with me.”

George smiled. He never really understood all this pure adulation that strangers insisted on drowning him in. “I’m not angry and I’m not annoyed,” he reassured her. “Come on, give me a minute and I’ll get ready to go and give you a lift. I should leave now anyway, it takes hours to drive back to London and I have to be at Paddington at 8:30 tomorrow.”

George quickly closed the house up again and put the key back where he found it. It would have been nice to stay a bit longer, he thought, not even been here a full day, but the demands of a life as a Beatle just didn’t allow luxuries like that.

May was waiting by the car. He dawdled up the drive towards her, procrastinating, but as he neared her an idea crossed his mind. Now if I know Beatles fans like I think I do…

He leaned on the car, looking at her, unable to stifle a grin.

“What?” May asked.

“Don’t go back there, May.”

“George, we’ve been through this…”

“Nah, listen. Try this one on for size, how d’ya like to come to London with me?”

She smiled. That would be wonderful. For just a few more hours in his company, it’s tempting, but I wouldn’t be any better off there than I would be in Manchester. “I can’t, George. I’d still have nowhere to go.”

“That’s okay. Stay with me.”

“With you?” she asked, astonished.

“Yeah, why not?”

“I couldn’t…” May started.

“’Course you can!” George interrupted, then dropping to his knees in front of her, “Look, I’m down on my knees, begging you, please!” he said dramatically.

May giggled, “Get up!”

“Only if you say yes!”

“George!”

“ May,” George said seriously, but still kneeling down, “Come back to London with me, not for long, just so you can have a… think.” She hesitated. “You can meet the Beatles!” He dangled just the right carrot, May was in the car before he was.