December 1958

The last week of the year seemed to be a bit of a blur, but it was always Connie's favourite. After a long festive period it was always a nice break before everything went back to reality, not to mention her father always went mad when it came to food shopping over Christmas and so the house was always full of leftovers for the next few days. Maybe that was why George was so insistent on coming round that afternoon, knowing Connie's house would be full of snacks.

The two had hardly seen each other over the Christmas period, with George busy with his family and Connie distracted by the fact that her father was finally home for once. They had the house to themselves that day though, and it was peaceful as they sat in front of the television, talking about nothing in particular, laughing over their stories of their Christmases.

They'd exchanged presents too that afternoon, and George has presented Connie with a stack of rather decorative looking notebooks and a picture frame of the two of them, the photo showing them both on a night out from a while back at Rory Storm's club. The notebooks were actually a rather thoughtful present, since they meant Connie would no longer have to go to the supply cupboards in school and steal empty exercise books to write her stories in. She'd complained to George once about the time she'd been caught and how she's been caned for it, but she didn't think George had been listening. Clearly he had though, and the notebooks, with their covers decorated in decadent Indian patterns were easily her favourite Christmas gift of the year, much better than John's gift which had been a cheap pack of cigarettes. She wouldn't have minded, but they weren't even the brand she liked.

If Connie thought George's present to her was wonderful, his reaction to her present was far more dramatic. A few weeks before when in town with Paul she'd spotted a charity shop selling a ukulele, and she instantly remembered the first time she met George, when the three of them on the bus discussed how much they all liked George Formby. The ukulele seemed like the best present Connie could buy for her best friend, and she didn't think twice about spending most of that months wages on it. It had been a nightmare keeping it a secret from him though, especially since Paul had been with her when she bought it, and though she'd sworn him to secrecy she feared either one of them accidentally breaking the surprise to George prematurely.

They had, however, managed to keep it a secret. Connie was rather proud of herself for that, especially as she sat cross-legged on her living room floor across from George, watching him intently as he tuned the instrument. She loved watching him play his guitar, fascinated by the way his fingers seemed to effortlessly find the right cords and play them perfectly, but there was something quite captivating about the way he was frowning down at the small instrument, occasionally plucking a string to check the way it sounded. She loved the way he looked when he was concentrating, and as silence settled between the two of them, she found herself enjoying just being in his presence.

"Can you believe this time next year we'll be worrying about a new decade?" Connie said all of a sudden, breaking the silence as her thoughts got the better of her.

"I know... the sixties," George grinned, though he didn't look up at her as he spoke, far too focused on the ukulele.

"D'you know what though? I reckon it'll be a good decade," Connie shrugged, watching as George tuned up the instrument. "I reckon in ten years time we'll be rich and famous,"

It was something she had been thinking about a lot, what was going to happen in the next decade. She'd already left school, and her job at the Cavern wasn't forever. When the new decade hit, she would be turning eighteen, a proper adult, and though the thought of that made her cringe, she was also certain that adulthood would bring her something great. She'd been thinking about her future a lot, and though she still didn't know what she wanted to do, her hope for a good future had practically blinded her, knowing she wanted nothing more than to be successful and happy.

That roughly translated into her and her friends ending up rich and famous. Maybe that was because of her upbringing, feeling like a working class nobody who struggled to make ends meet. The fact that both her and her dad's wages only just seemed to keep them afloat with a little extra for them to enjoy seemed to result in her dreaming of a life where she could live comfortably. She wondered what life would be like to go anywhere and buy anything without worrying about the money. Yet, if she wanted that life for herself, she wanted it for her friends too, because to experience that sort of comfortable lifestyle seemed like a waste without them at her side. It was a nice little fantasy, and though it was one Connie was willing to work to, pessimism usually won out.

"Doubt it," George laughed, plucking one of the strings of the ukulele, and the sound of it pulled her from her thoughts. "I think I've got it tuned,"

"Do you know how to play it?" she asked, raising one of her eyebrows teasingly.

"Of course I do!" he exclaimed, faking shock.

"Well, play something then!" she laughed, nudging his arm.

George adjusted his position to sit up straighter, holding the ukelele carefully as Connie watched him carefully, admiring the way his fingers, already calloused from repetitive guitar playing, found the chords. He glanced up at her, almost nervous to play in front of her, but soon his fingers bagan to quickly move across the strings in a melody that Connie quickly recognised, making her laugh. She noticed how George played without having to really look at the instrument, and she wondered how he had managed to memorise the song and the chords so quickly without actually having a ukelele to play on. Not that it really mattered, considering the fact that Connie memorised the words, and she began to sing along with him.

"Now I know I'm not handsome, no good looks or wealth, but the girls I chase say my plain face will compromise their health," Connie sang, laying down on the floor next to George as he played.

"Now I know fellas worse than me, bow-legged and boss-eyed," George sang the next verse, looking down at Connie as she smiled along to the music. "Walking out with lovely women clinging to their side,"

"Now if women like them like men like those, why don't women like me," the two sang together, George's fingers flourishing over the chords.

"I don't know the next bit," George confessed, hitting his hand against the strings to silence the instrument. "About Empress Jospehine and Napoleon,"

"I do, I just can't play it," Connie said, frowning as if she was trying to remember the rest of the song. "At the end of the day though, women just don't like him, maybe it's cause he's too busy looking through their windows, stalker,"

"He's good though, in't he? George Formby?" George asked, setting the ukelele aside as he laid down on the floor next to her.

"Yeah, he's the greatest, he's the best George there is," Connie teased, elbowing George in the side as he scowled at her joke.

The two laid in silence for a moment, Connie staring up at the ceiling, thinking about George and how lucky she felt to know him. They'd been friends now for just over two years, and when she was him she felt like herself. She was always herself, unapologetically, but with George, it was like she became a better version of that. She liked who she was with George, and she liked the way the two of them seemed to fit well together. Their banter seemed to fire back and forth, and they shared a lot of interests to the point they were quite similar. She didn't want to prove Paul right, but she was quite glad he'd introduced the two of them. If that day on the bus hadn't have happened, Connie didn't even want to think about how different her life would be.

"Seriously though, where do you think we'll be this time next decade?" she asked after a moment of silence, curiosity getting the better of her, staring up at the ceiling.

"Probably still here, in your house, watching crap telly and eating junk," George shrugged, glancing over to look at Connie, knowing she wouldn't catch him staring.

"Maybe you'll have learnt how to play the second verse of Formby by then," she teased, letting out a snort of a laugh that made George's insides turn, though he wasn't quite sure why. "Seriously though, this time ten years, I'll be twenty six... that's actually disgusting,"

"I'll not be far behind," he reminded her, rolling his eyes at how dramatic she was being. "Why are we even talking about this? You always get morbid thinking of the future and stuff,"

"It's a Lennon thing, you never heard John talk about the future?" Connie raised her eyebrow, sighing out a small laugh.

"Well, whatever," George let out a small laugh, because he had noticed just how similar his best friend was to her cousin. "You'll probably have some fancy job by then, and you'll be rich. I reckon we'll still be playing small clubs round town,"

"Leave off, Georgie, I'll be the one who gets left behind," Connie laughed quietly, finding the idea of them not making it big utterly absurd, not noticing the doubtful look George shot her.

"As if we'd ever leave you behind," George muttered softly, meaning it to sound kind but instead Connie snorted out another laugh. "What?"

"Well in ten years time, probably not even that actually, you'll be married and have a proper nice bird who'll not want you hanging about with me," she pointed out what she thought was in inavoidable truth of life, but this time it was George's turn to laugh. "What?"

"Yeah, I get what you mean about the Lennon's being morbid," George laughed before becoming serious, sitting up and leaning against the arm of the sofa. Connie followed him, sitting by his side. "Con, as if I'd ever get with someone who didn't like you. You're me best mate,"

Connie wasn't sure how to respond to that, smirking as she stared down at the floor, unable to meet George's eye. It was reassuring to hear, that George wasn't just going to dump her as a mate as soon as he got a girlfriend, that prospect previously terrifying her. There was something about the idea of him getting with someone that bothered her, it had done ever since girls at school had been coming up to her asking her to introduce them to him. She didn't want to go out with George herself, or at least she didn't think she did, she just wanted to be his mate, the way it had always been. Connie couldn't imagine her life without George as her best mate, and she was glad he felt the same, but yet as always, she found herself unknowing as to how to convey her emotions.

So instead, she flashed a grin up to him, not realising that the gesture made him feel as if he was going to be consumed by the tingling butterflies of his infatuation for her, nudging her knee against his as she reached for the ukulele on the floor, handing it to him.

"Come on then, if we wanna be rich and famous this time in ten years, you better keep practicing,"

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Word count: 1998

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Author's note: Hello! Sorry this chapter is so late coming and that it's shorter than usual. I was so used to doing weekly updates that it felt weird I'd not uploaded since way before Christmas. I've been bogged down with uni work and working on some of my other fics so this one got a bit side-lined for a while. Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon and it's much longer! Only a few chapter's left till the end now! 

~Olivia