"Where was he Paul?" George inquired. The night was balmy and so were the natives, John having skedaddled and Lou disappearing too.

"Down behind the rocks at the end of the beach"

"Are you just going to leave him in the bathroom all night?"

"No"

"He's been in there agessss" George paced. After the hullabaloo of this afternoon, the way Lou had stormed off and how John stared after her blankly, George was tired. Tired of their antics, tired of them yelling and walking away. "Why'd she take off?"

"Oh I don't know George. You know Louise" Paul leaned beside the door of the bathroom and waited John out. For some reason the news of the baby had freaked him out so badly he back handed Louise and knocked her off her feet. She recovered quickly though, and being so upset and mad with him, she was more than eager to put miles between both the public scene, and John. Louise had taken the MG and, in a shower of gravel, left.

"Ringo and Mal aren't back that means-"

"Lou's still gone" Paul finished the sentence and they looked at the door and both knocked lightly.

John had snapped inside after seeing Lou and Paul with hands over each other all afternoon he had snapped completely when she said she was.... Pregnant.
Must be Nate's, Paul's been here with me the whole time. And she wants me to father another of her spawn.

I can't bear this, two kids not mine, John fought with himself. He looked after and cared deeply for Evie. He thought he loved Louise, cared about her very much at the very least but he couldn't stomach another child in his house that wasn't his.

Can't be mine she's on the pill.

Cant be mine because.....

Just cant be mine.....

"Let us in John" Paul tapped the door with enough force to be polite but enough determination to make John look up from his position and stare at the door.

"Is it yours?" John yelled.

"Don't be stupid" Paul yelled back.

"Can't be mine. Must be Doctor fucking Nate's"

"And, John, pray tell, why it can't be yours?" Paul through back with a bang on the door to go with the question.

"We.... She uses protection"

"Like condoms? Those things aren't 100% mate"

"No, she's on the pill.. we don't use condoms" John stood and washed his face, why am I doing this he mumbled to his reflection in the mirror.

"The pills' not totally infallible either John" Paul tapped again. Lighter this time like a wake up call- I'm here, talk to me, I won't yell and murder you for making Louise run- tap, tap, tap.

"Has she come back!?" John yelled over the incessant tapping.

"No"

"Well why are you and George here?"

"Someone's got to look after you"

"Go find her"

"Oh so you do care then, just a little perhaps"

"O' course I care but I don't care for her saddling me with another mouth to feed"

"And why is that. You put up with Evie ok. Even, dare I say it, love the little 'en" Paul slid down the wall and George walked off, kicking every piece of furniture as he went.

Standing on the verandah George shook his head, Louise was in a right pickle this time but it wasn't her fault. Of course, the baby was Johns, but he hits with angry words first then thinks later. George tested his knuckles- sore. It felt good to clobber John the first few times then as he realised John wasn't fighting back nor reacting to the whole thumping Lennon bit- things got stale pretty quickly after that.

Paul lit a smoke and blew the smoke under the door, John was in there with nought and had been without for a while, his teasing of nicotine laced smoke would draw reaction for sure.

"Stop blowing your fag under the door, Macca" John sniffed the air anyway, he'd have to stop smoking in the house even more if Lou was pregnant.

"Come out and have a civilised conversation"

George watched the door crank open and a sheepish Lennon hesitate slightly before nicking Paul's cigarette from between his teeth. George stared holes in John, willing him to look up and react, John did but only tipped his chin in knowing, knowing he was in the shit. George wandered away into the night toward the driveway, toward the road....

"So"

"So"

"You know the bub is yours right?"

"I can't have a baby"

"What are you on about? You have Evie" Paul pushed John none to gently toward the sofa and pressed his shoulders making the older lad sit. "You've already got a child"

"Evie's not mine"

Paul scoffed then spun on his heel, working the room to gain an idea of what Johns crazy mind was doing. Paul softened "Yes she is"

"No Paul she isn't. I'm John not a fucking father. I can't, I don't have the skills"

"What skills?"

"The ability to stay"

The silence roared between them, Paul glanced about for George but he had shot through. So this is where Johns head was at.

"You're not them, John"

"Yes Paul, I am" John looked at the floor, it needed sweeping, it was covered in sand and small pieces of grass.

"John you're nothing, nothing like him"

"I am my father's son" John stated as he flicked the stub of his hastily finished cigarette at the ash tray on the table in front of him.

"John you are You, man. Of all people you should know you are. One of a kind from no mould did you come. I know no other like you and, I dare say, I will never know anyone remotely close to being like you ever again"

"It's not mine"

"You're a dickhead"

*****************************

She was lost, at first it was ok, it was daylight and the sea kept to her right as she traversed the coast north. Then the road ended and she went west, well Lou thought it was west.

The roads around here were nothing like England with nice kerb and channel, perhaps some pretty trees lacing the edges.
Here the roads were more potholes than tar and big potholes at that, it was a wonder the wheels hadn't come off in some.

When his hand struck she had been instantly terrified, then mad, so so mad, then she collected her dignity and picked her chin up, set it higher... then higher again as he yelled after her. The MG started first go and the gravel showered a number of crew that stood around gawking.

What was he on?

And furthermore What stupidity in her head made her tell him in front of all and sundry.

She should have been smarter, known he would snap and push her away....like he usually did when words spoken weren't what he wanted to hear.

Stopping the car in the middle of the roadway Lou looked about, the road now dirt and narrow, and trees were tall reaching for the sky all around her.
A few lights flickered in the distance as the night fell around her and she had to decide- turnabout and go back the way she thought she had come or go towards the light.

She did a six-point turn- yes, the road, for want of a better word, was that narrow and as she gained speed she touched her stomach.

It was Johns, no others, only his. And now this...

*****************************

"I am no father"

"Still a dick head, mate"

"Shut up"

"No!"

"Why Paul? Are you worried Lou will make you look after the sprog this time?"

Paul launched at John and the coffee table collapsed under the impact of the two of them falling.

Wood splintered rapidly and the ash tray, as it slide south, caught on the corner, spun and bounced away like a rock skimming a pond. Upon hitting the floor at speed the full ashtray smashed, glass splintered and flew close toward the wrestling men.

John laughed at Paul's anger and mocked as Paul fought his usual calm countenance for control.
And it was then, as John spit words of hate and called Louise many nasty names for dallying in Pauls pants, that Paul broke.

There was no other word for it.

Paul broke.

But that was what John wanted, he wanted Paul's fists to drive him to hell and send him to the edge of reality. Paul was pinning John down now, his thighs over Johns as he pummelled John about the face and chest.

And John smiled.

Because it was easier this way.

Easier to disbelieve and let the reality of the situation warp and bend and distort.

Easier to think the kid was another mans than think that he....

That he would be entirely, one hundred percent responsible for it.

Evie was fine and he loved her but ultimately, he could hand her back. At some point in the future when the going got tough he could hand her back. He knew it, Lou knew it.

He wasn't responsible for her. No one could blame him or tackle him when he failed because she wasn't his to fail.

Paul landed a particularly well-placed thump to the nose and John bled.

***********************

The corners were tight and twisted but Lou continued. She kept going, pedal to the metal, engine roaring through gears, up and down as the corners came and went, quickly.

And she held firm, thinking a hundred miles an hour as she went. What was he thinking in that stupid dumb head of his. He was wonderful with Evie, he was terrific with everything to do with the little girl.

A better dad could not be found.

John wasn't her father.

John wasn't a father.

John doesn't want to be a father.

The air rushed louder and the road was ending quickly and as the gears slipped and the brakes tore the gravel to pieces she saw it all so clearly.

The haze of Johns hate, she saw that he wasn't Evies daddy, he was pretending, he was going through the motions but not giving everything, not giving his heart, his mind, his entire soul. 

He wasn't being a father he was being an uncle, a well-loved loving uncle like George, like Harry and Peter and Paul and Ringo. He was one step away, one foot in one out, why? Why be like that, when everything had been so good, so lovely, so wonderful.

Lou wiped her tearstained face.

Her hand now wet and laced with tears....

She flubbed the gears...

The engine roared....

And she hit hard.