Settle Petal

"So now that you're my daughter, things will need changing. My daughter isn't my carer, or cleaner for that matter" Jim spoke across the small breakfast table, which was covered in the daily paper, toast, various spreads and of course cups of tea.

The aftermath of the party the night before was such:

> I was still deposited at the mid-range motel to give my head some space to think over the sudden drop into my life of one doe eyed very cute Beatle brother, his band mates, a brother who was yet to materialise.... and a father.

> Paul then having a grand old time of driving me to the motel, at such daring speed in the mini, that I told him not to damage my car.
I had become so enamoured with the cute vehicle I claimed responsibility for her duty of care, that's right her- 'Missi Mini'.

"You gave the car a name" Paul hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand and a gurgle of laughter ensued.

"yes of course, couldn't call it Ramone's Rustbucket, now could I or Ramone's Girlie GoGo mobile" I stared straight ahead, not allowing myself to peek at the laughing man beside me, who, by this point, sobered up quickly at the last nickname I conjured up.

"Hey, not nice, sister" Paul grinned widely 'but I like your wit, you dimwit"

I slapped his arm and we were quiet for a short while at a red traffic light. I turned at the very moment Paul did and we broke up again, the minis nickname not the only joke, this whole night had been so utterly unreal we were both addled with so many different and wild thoughts.

"You know this is silly" I spoke still watching Paul, he having taken off from the lights again, I wanted to really see his reaction to my words "I can't be your sister, your you. You don't need or require a sister in your hectic life"

Paul frowned, taking the words digesting them, I suppose. I twisted my handbags handles in my hands suddenly nervous and shy, which by this point made Paul raise that adorable eyebrow "Abby how about tomorrow you come for breakfast and afterwards just the two of us will chin wag, get to know the other. Dad really loves you, I want him to be happy"

"I want him happy too but me being Paul McCartney's newly 'adopted' sister" I air quoted and shrugged my shoulders at the word adopted, making him laugh again "Is like adding a girl to the band, totally delusional and highly unlikely"

Paul grabs my hand and lightning strikes, I stared at the hands wrapped together and his hand left mine quickly.

His touch was like a cupid's arrow to my heart how can I not love, love Paul McCartney, the cute Beatle and properly, adore purely in a brotherly love innocent way, a new adult brother, it's just plain crazy.

Paul is every girl's dream.

Every wish upon a shooting star streaking across the nights sky.

The 'first star seen tonight' has had more hopes pinned on it for his presence and kisses than probably any other boy alive.

He's a 'fingers crossed' hope.

And that birthday cakes' candle ...... extinguished after the Happy Birthday song has been sung, is blown out by a girl whose eyes are shut tight, projecting the entire wish to the heavens to be his love.

I admit sitting in the mini so close, to be able to feel his breath on my cheek when he turns my way or gives me a wink when he laughs, he makes my heart skip and the pace quicken.

I've been lacking male company most of my adult life, and throughout school I was the girl behind the girl behind the girl that was asked on dates.

Any attention to me, is bound to be immediately felt by me, in a hopeful intimate and not very sisterly fashion. No, not sisterly at all.

Carnal thoughts are very, very likely to appear every time he is near, every time ...

Jeez I sound like a sex craved fiend.

I let out a hurrumph and Paul turned slowly watching, obviously watching, my growing discomfort.

"Is something troubling you, Abigail" Paul sweetly speaks over the radios hum.

I blurt it out all of my misgiving and school girl Beatle sexual frustrations that, I think, will be my downfall and blush bright cherry red. The car pulls over quickly and I grip the handbag and doorhandle equally tight. A hand sweeps softly over my cheek and I slap him away, touching where his fingers had just been, the flame of Paul's touch.

I watch from the corner of my eye at his profile, he goes to speak then thinks better of it, he tries again and stops, the third attempt he got what was in his mind out. "Fuck"

"Eloquently said but no, not on a first car ride" I giggle and cover my face "Maybe comedy is the way through???" I rub my eyes hard like I'm trying to stay awake "I'm sorry I'm not even funny am I"

"Let's get tonight over with and by that, I mean you off to the motel and me back to Da's! I'll come by at say 9am and bring you back to home, ok?" Paul smiles and tries to comfort me with the plan.

My heart beats with the possiblities.