October 1962

Despite her reluctance to leave London, Connie couldn't help but admit that it was good it be back in Liverpool.

Paul met Connie outside the train station leaning against his dad's old car. He kept his eyes down, his coat collar up and hoped that no one would recognise him, even though it was getting harder to walk down the streets of Liverpool and go unnoticed. He and the band had been local celebrities for a while at that point, but with the release of their first record things were getting trickier for them all. Even so, he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to see his best friend for the first time in two years.

He watched her skip out of the train station, suitcase in hand, wearing her battered looking leather jacket over a light blue dress that came to her knees. That was a surprise, considering he'd never seen her wear a dress before, especially not one of that style. It was a style all the rich girls in magazines were wearing, the sort of girls Connie used to sneer at. Her hair was shorter too, or it was straighter than it's usual frizz, he wasn't really sure which it was but either way it looked different from the wild mane he was used to seeing her with. Maybe London had changed her after all, despite all her protests against that possibility.

"Alright, Macca!" she cheered excitedly with a grin, running down the last few steps and throwing herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly.

"Bloody hell, Lennie!" he exclaimed, taken back by how tightly she was hugging him. "You can't have missed me that much!"

"You have no idea," she told him as she pulled out of their hug, rolling her eyes as she threw her suitcase over to him. "I can't believe I'm actually here,"

"I can't believe you're here either, I thought you'd never return, but here you are!" he teased, putting her suitcase on the backseat as she got into the passenger side of the car. Paul followed her, sitting behind the wheel, glancing over at her with a pleased smirk. "It's good to see you though, Con,"

"Don't be soppy Paul," she told him, rolling her eyes and she did her seatbelt, watching nervously as Paul began to drive, pulling away from the station. "So how come you're the one picking me up?"

"It wasn't a big debate or anything, it was your dad actually who asked me to come get you," Paul shrugged, making Connie sigh sarcastically considering she had been imagining the arguments between the boys as to who would be meeting her off the train, but at the mention of her dad she grinned enthusiastically.

"How is he?" She asked, though her eyes didn't drift from the window, watching the sights as they drove by.

"He's alright, handling our fame quite well," Paul told her, and upon catching her slight frown in his mirror, he continued, "Fan's'll literally turn up at my door at all hours, and y'know what me dad's like. He'll let 'em in, offer 'em tea and biscuits, the whole works, so your dad offered me the spare key for us to rehearse in the back room of your house. He said it was no trouble and that he missed us constantly over there making racket and cluttering the place up,"

"Same old dad then," Connie nodded with a small smile, her gaze fixed out of the window still. "I bet Dot is thrilled by all the female attention you're getting at the minute,"

"Erm, yeah, about that..." Paul drifted off, scratching the back of his neck nervously and as Connie realised what he was insinuating she turned to him with a dramatic gasp before bursting into laughter.

"Bloody typical! You finally find a bird I like and you bloody dump her!" She shook her head, hitting his arm though he flinched dramatically, making the car jerk slightly. "Shit, sorry, better focus on the road,"

"You ever thought of driving?" Paul asked her, glancing in the wing mirror.

"Nah, no point in London, it's too busy and to be honest I love getting the tube," she told him. "I can't imagine you ever have to get the tube though, I bet Brian Epstein'd get you private buses if you asked,"

"We're not that demanding, he gets us cars," Paul rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry we never get chance to see you when we're in London, George Martin who produces our stuff runs a real tight ship and Brian always wants us on best behaviour like we're little kids so we never get chance to sneak off to meet up with you,"

"It's fine, you're not missing much by not visiting me at work," Connie muttered, though she forced her thoughts away from the New Times, not wanting the reminders of work to spoil her week off.

Instead, however, her mind went onto how hungry she was, her stomach rumbling noisily, making Paul laugh almost hysterically. There had been a food cart on the train of course, but Connie had been far too nervous to get anything, even the ploughman's sandwich that looked so tempting. She settled for just a black coffee, which managed to keep her going on the long journey, but now she was home it was taking its toll.

"Are they starving you down there or something?" Paul joked.

"I could eat a horse, Paulie," she sighed, before her eyes widened excitedly as she noticed a street sign. "Can we go down Penny Lane for some chips? My treat?"

"Bloody hell, London's made you generous," Paul gasped jokingly as he turned the car down Penny Lane, the street she knew so well.

Penny Lane was one of Connie's mother's favourite spots of Liverpool. She used to love taking Connie down to the shops on a Saturday morning, and though they were too poor to go on proper shopping sprees it was great fun window shopping. Penny Lane also happened to be the in-between for John and Paul, and the two of them often met up there after school. Sometimes Connie would tag along, just because the chip shop was one of the best in all of Liverpool, in her opinion anyway.

Paul managed to get a parking spot right outside the chip shop and after a long debate, Connie went in alone. He'd argued that he'd get surrounded by people if he went in with her, not to mention the rumours that would start if he was seen with a woman.

"Doesn't matter if you're John's cousin, if anyone from the press see me with a bird they'll go mad and Brian will be raging at me," Paul explained.

"Fine," She grumbled dramatically before getting out of the car, deciding she hated Brian's rule of the boys appearing attainable if it meant she couldn't even get fish and chips with her neighbour.

The chip shop still seemed the same after two years, the only difference being how quiet it was, except that was probably just because it was a Monday afternoon. The woman behind the counter smiled at her after she placed her order, though at first Connie couldn't tell if she recognised her or was simply admiring her outfit that seemed rather out of place now she was home.

"You're Authur and Jolene's lass aren't you?" The woman asked as she wrapped her chips up, and Connie felt herself sigh in relief as she realised it was the former. "Thought you moved down south?"

"Yeah, southerners wanted rid of me so I'm back for a week," Connie grinned, watching as the woman got her steak and kidney pie out of the oven, placing it in the bag with the rest of her order. "Good to be home though,"

"I can imagine," the woman remarked as Connie handed over the money in exchanged for the bag full of food. "See ya' later, love,"

"Cheers, see ya'," Connie grinned as she headed out of the shop, musing over how nice she was compared to the shop workers she usually dealt with in London, the ones who'd scowl at her when she greeted them, her mind also considering how large the bag was considering it was just for two.

As soon as she was out of the shop, she realised the entire street was staring at Paul's car. No wonder too, considering he was jumping up and down in his seat excitedly, a blurry but oddly familiar song playing loud enough on the car radio for her to be able to hear it, but not loud enough for her to recognise it. When he realised Connie was stood outside the car, Paul wound the window down, pointing eagerly at the radio.

"Listen, Lennie! I'm on the bloody radio!" He called to her, making her realise that it was him and the lads on the radio; Love Me Do.

"Shit, Paulie!" She gasped, running around to the passenger side, throwing herself into the car before she lent over, turning the radio up even louder.

The two began to sing along, Paul singing his own parts whilst Connie sang for John. She'd heard the song on the radio a few other times, though every time it had been at work and she wasn't able to get overly excited. No one at work knew about her close ties to the band and she wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. If Brian wanted the boys to appear single and attainable, it would be no good if she'd gone around boasting about how she'd grown up with them all. Once, Ruby - a southern girl at work - mentioned how much she loved the song, and Connie found it hard to hold back her own admiration for it, especially the lead guitar part.

That was what she always seemed to be doing at work; holding back. She held back so much of herself, her accent, her interests, her life before working there. It was as if she was a completely different person, or at least had to try to be. Not now though, not now she was home. Now she was back with Paul messing around like they did as kids, with a chippy tea, soon to be reunited with her father, cousin and best friend, everything felt as if it was slipping back into place. It felt as if she was back where she belonged, and Connie had never felt more relieved to be home.

***

Forthlin Road looked exactly the same, with the added addition of around ten young women and teenage girls standing around outside Paul's house.

"Bloody hell I thought you were exaggerating," Connie said in reference to the crowd, scowling as she noticed them blocking her own front door. "How're we supposed to get in?"

"Work our way through the crowd?" Pail shrugged, parking the car right by the alleyway that led to Connie's garden.

"Oh yeah, you'd love that," she rolled her eyes, watching as Paul lent over to the back seat before emerging, holding up a couple of hats, one of them being a deerstalker and the other a flat cap. "Holmes and Watson, eh? Hang on though, isn't the cap my old man's? Have you been thriving?"

"No of course not! He let me borrow it one time to hide my face when there were a load of birds at the door and I needed to get out," Paul explained, tossing the cap to her as he pulled the deerstalker on. "I know it might seem a bit excessive but-"

"If it'll stop you getting mobbed," Connie shrugged, placing the flat cap down on her head with a slight grimace, knowing it was going to mess her hair up. "Come on, Holmes,"

"Come on, Watson," Paul teased back, getting out of the car with the bag of food as Connie got her suitcase out from the backseat.

After locking the car, the two of them hastily headed over to the alleyway. Paul was like an expert, keeping his head down as he hurried into the shelter and somehow went unnoticed. Connie, however, was far too interested in the fact that there were fans camped out by their houses and so glanced up at them. She instantly recognised a few, either from school or the old night clubs, but in the time it took her to glance over at them, the girls had spotted the newcomers. Paul, hiding in the alleyway, went unnoticed which meant Connie got most of the attention.

"Who's that posh bird going round the back of Our Paul's?" She heard one of them demand, and she couldn't help but laugh at multiple parts of that question, especially the part of her being 'posh'.

"'Ey, in't that Connie Lennon from school who gave Jenny a black eye and left her nose wonky that time?" another said, leaving Connie quite smug that she was still fame for that fight almost five years later.

"I forgot she was related to John, do you think she's Paul's girlfriend now?" one girl gasped loudly and Connie let out a snort of a laugh in exasperation.

"I bloody live here!" she exclaimed frustratedly, pointing up to her house. "Now bugger off, Paul isn't home and his poor dad isn't gonna want to have his house surrounded all the time!"

With that, she ducked into the alley and followed Paul into her garden, ignoring the way her heart ached upon seeing the cherry tree at the ned of the tiny garden, the one she'd planted after her mother died, the one she used to sit under to read or to smoke. The last time she'd been under the tree George had given her the locket, and she'd kissed him. Now she'd finally returned, and things were so different.

Before she had the chance to get her own key out of her handbag for the back door, Paul had unlocked it himself, nudging the door open with his shoulder. He stood in the doorway, glancing over at her with a look of concern on his face, as if he was trying to figure out what she was thinking.

"Welcome home, Lennie," he said after a moment, gesturing with his head for her to come in.

With a small smirk, she followed him into the kitchen, marvelling over how nothing had changed. Paul set the bag of food down on the table, and she noticed his hand was shaking slightly, though clearly not from nerves, if anything it seemed to be from excitement but she had no idea what he had to be excited about.

The excitement was explained, however, when the door to the living room burst open and in ran John, George and Ringo. Surprised, Connie let out a shriek of joy and threw herself at the nearest, which was George, wrapping her arms around his neck. In the spur of the moment she pushed a kiss to his cheek, not thinking anything of it since she was just so happy to see them all, and in return he squeezed her tightly as if he never wanted to let go of her. He did let go of her though, as soon as John shoved him away, hugging her himself as he shook her about jokingly. She pushed him away ruffing his hair before she turned to Ringo, hugging him last.

"Look, it's my new favourite member of the Beatles!" she called as she hugged the drummer, watching as John scowled at her.

"Watch it, I'm glad to see you but I'll still send you back to the southerners," John joked before he looked at her properly with a frown. "When did you get so posh lookin'?"

"Piss off," she rolled her eyes as she shrugged her jacket off, placing it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

"Don't listen to him, Con, you look great," George grinned at her, his smile reminding her of every twinge of affection she used to feel for him before as a teenager, before his eyes drifted down to the chip shop bag on the table. "Did you get food?"

Glancing down at the bag, Connie remembered thinking how big the order of food was to say it was meant for just two, and realised that Paul knew the others were waiting for her. He'd made her order enough for all of them, and she was unsure whether she was mad at him for not telling her or thrilled at the surprise. Either way, John had already sat down at the table and after rooting around in the bag pulled out the steak and kidney pie.

"That's mine, you swine!" she exclaimed, glaring at him until he set it down.

If she thought she felt good after singing in the car, things felt even better now she was back in her childhood home with her best friends. In fact, even feeling that the painful longing affection for George was still there felt comforting. Things felt back to normal, even if it would only be for a little while.

***

Word count: 2871

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