Autumn UK Tour 1963

From the 4th October to the 14th of December Lou and John were apart. 

Tours took over, days home sitting about were few and far between. Radio appearances, recording at the studio sandwiched between the Swedish tour resulted in the lads  being back for not even a full two days before they then continued on to the Autumn UK tour.

Lou stayed home with Evie...lonely.

The final leg, the 1st of November to the 14th December saw the band play 37 cities, record and sit through endless interviews, pose for hundreds of photographs, play before nonstop screaming crowds.

They stared at too many hotel ceilings, stared at the four walls.

Loose lips were kissed often. Mattresses dipped as girls climbed aboard.

They partied and got drunk with a multitude of hanger-oners; none whom had a name that stood out from the rest.

John enjoyed it all a bit too much.

But when the busy hotel rooms lay empty,

And the noisy nights turned into the wee silent hours.

And the herald of a new morning was a mere hour or two away....

He cursed himself.

Cursed all his weaknesses.

Cursed his relenting to women's wiles.

Cursed himself about giving in to his addictive like compulsions - The compulsions that had him happily having sex with random nameless women when he had the right one, the one he knew, the one that listened to his hopes and dreams, at home.

Louise.

Louise was waiting for him, at their home.

Waiting for their second act of this play. This thing that was a deal that had started, at first, so very badly.

This thing he convinced himself, and Lou, that it was going to be alright.

That he was able to be good and it was what he wanted so very badly to go well.

And she was there sleeping all alone.

And she was happy to wait for him....

Louise.

She had told him to enjoy himself before he left and convinced him it was still all ok when he called her daily and confessed his sins............

****

Lou shuddered, dropping the telephone with a clatter into it's black glossy cradle. She had kept her voice calm, even and controlled as she listened to the purging of his nights many sins. Louise wore a veil over her emotions wanting to scream and yell but knowing it was to no avail. Knowing if she hollered she may just drive him away.

No, nagging John would not work.

Listening to John with seemingly as much unwavering patience she could muster, with his voice so low and trembling, as his words tumbled with his confessions, she would close her eyes tight.

Then....

Then came his promises.....

Making her fingers curl tight around the pale telephone cord in hope.
As his pleas, his apologies and his vows, that he would be better tomorrow, met her ears and dived into her soul for sustenance.

Sometimes he was. 

Sometimes he went just a day.

Sometimes he went a few.

Lou didn't stop his confessions.

Lou listened to him talk of the bodies not the women.

They seemed almost like receptacles, vessels holding womanly features for him to delve and use. To help him make it through the lonely night, help him through the many, many lonely nights.

Was it just relieving his pent-up energy or was it because a feast of women suddenly was set before him?

A smorgasbord, free to devour and gloat over how many or how much he consumed.

A meal to make him feel important..... a meal to make him feel king of his domain.

Lou cried herself to sleep too many nights to count but after her tears dried and she sat staring out the window she sought solace in the knowledge that she was the one he called.

She was the one he called every single day he could without fail, without grumbling about it being a drag and, he said, she was the one he wanted to be home with.

She wasn't happy but she wasn't giving up either................

****

John sent another random female from the hotel room.

Not bothering to get up to open the door he faced the wall as she redressed, he ignored her when she kneeled on the bed over him to try and kiss him goodbye.

He cursed himself and his weakness once more as he showered trying to scrub the lingering scent of cloying perfume away, and on return to the mattress, he tossed the scrap bit of paper with her telephone number on it in the waste paper basket by the door.

Then, when he couldn't stand the noises in his head and the returning demons banging and shouting at the door of his thoughts; Those demons always mocking, laughing; reminding him that he was a weak man and deserved no love.

Then and only then......did he ring Louise and confessed.

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

"She'll be leaving" John moaned as soon as Paul walked in for a shared breakfast at Johns coffee table the next morning. 

Newspapers were spread all over the floor, cigarette left burning and forgotten in the ashtray. John covered his face and groaned as the whisky and women of the night before flooded his brain. In one moment addling him and the next making him repentant and upset.

"Louise has listened to you confessing for the last month and a half at least, if she is still answering the telly, she hasn't given up on you" Paul poured a good helping of milk on his cereal, raising the bottle to see if John wanted his cornflakes dampened too. "You're really pushing it though" Paul thought over Johns antics before continuing "Cor if I find a girl that lets me bonk my way round the UK and northern Europe like Lou, I'd be bloody lucky"

"She just sounds so dead by the end of my ramblings, her voice so quiet and calm but dead. She still... you know she still says I love you, I miss you, I fucking want you. Well she doesn't say fucking but you know what I mean wack .... How do I make up to her when she has been such an angel when I'm down stirring it up with Lucifer himself?"

"Could we limit the birdies, you know. Not have 'em up all the time. Not fart about so often?" Paul reached over and found the review of the show in Doncaster, smiling at the 'pandemonium', 'madness' and 'noise' mentioned throughout.

"Not fair on Geo and Rings, nor you mate" John sculled his tea dropping the cup with a noisy clatter on the saucer, grimacing at the sharp noise, his head hurt like buggery. "I'm the one that should keep my pants zipped not you lot ..... Come on, off with ya, we leave at half ten don't we. Get your lard arse out my door so I can pack"

"Alright, alright. Let me finish me cornies mate. Hey, I've a bit of a tune to go over with ya later" Paul scoffed two big mouthfuls making milk dribble down his chin, he grabbed a napkin and patted the liquid away.

"Where do you find the energy Paulie... after snacking on three sheilas and downing a bottle of whisky?"

"I'm young ...... and virile" Paul smirked, dropped his bowl to the tray and grinned as he jumped up, sauntering to the door "Ta-rah. Pack quick, call your girly, promise her flowers and choc-ies and loads of jewellery. That's what they do in the movies... seems to work for Cary Grant"

"Yeah, yeah fleck off ya romantic sod" John waved Paul away out the door as he continued throwing his shirts and jocks along with his toiletries in his suitcase haphazardly.

Perhaps if I'm good, it'll all work out....