October 1962

"My old manager just caught me at the bar," Connie told both Florence and Cilla as she forced her way through the crowd of the dancefloor in the Cavern Club, handing them the drinks she'd just bought for them. "Asked me if I'd work a shift tomorrow,"

"Hope you told him no, you promised me you'd help me work tomorrow," Cilla pointed out, reminding Connie of her promise she'd made to help her do some hairdressing.

"As if I'd say yes, besides he wanted me for an evening shift and me and George are meant to be going to the pictures tomorrow night," Connie rolled her eyes before glancing over to the stage where a tech guy was fiddling around with the speakers getting ready for the next band to come onto the stage.

The next band in question was The Beatles. It was the first time Connie was going to see them perform with Ringo, and even though she'd spent the night before at George's house as the band practiced it was going to be the first time she'd seen the other boys play live for nearly two years. She was buzzing in excitement, a feeling that only seemed to be doubled by the fact that she was back in the Cavern and was surrounded by her mates after so long.

There was just something about the atmosphere in that club that matched up to nothing and the prospect of seeing her best friends perform again for the first time in years in a venue she adored took her back to her teenage years. Being back in the place she used to work in surrounded by people she loved made her so nostalgic. It wasn't just Cilla, Florence and the lads making her feel that way, considering she'd bumped into her old friend Gerry and his band - The Pacemakers - at the bar, and Rory and the Hurricanes were meant to be on after the Beatles.

There were so many familiar faces surrounding her that night, people who seemed genuinely happy and excited to see her to the point Connie felt loved for the first time in a long time. It wasn't like it was in London where people didn't know the real her, where people knew her work persona and nothing else. The people in Liverpool seemed to know and understand her much better. They knew the real Connie Lennon, not Constance Emilia, the person she tried to be in London, acting as if her life was all together and she knew exactly what she was doing all the time. In Liverpool, she didn't have to pretend to be that person, because she was enough for those around her.

Not that she wanted to think of London, not on that night. She'd missed work and writing articles, but she hadn't missed the people, and given the fact she was due back in work in three days, she tried to focus on what was happening that night. The memories she would make with her friends on that night were what was most likely going to carry her through the next few months living alone down south, or at least until she could next see people. For one night only, she really wanted the nostalgia trip of feeling like a teenager again, getting drunk and dancing with her friends.

It was then that, as Connie took a swig of her whisky, the band came onto stage. First was John and Paul, and then George, followed by Ringo. The guitarists all came on to thunderous applause and cheers, but as soon as Ringo took a seat behind his drums the crowd seemed to quieten slightly, murmuring apprehensively. She'd seen him play plenty with the Hurricanes and he'd never been cheered that apprehensively before, so the reaction to him took her by surprise, wondering what had happened to him to make the crowds that cautious. Connie grinned in encouragement at the boys, but as soon as they looked down at their guitars and to each other, she turned to the girls, frowning in confusion as she contemplated Ringo's reception on stage.

"People are still mad they fired Pete," Florence informed her casually, and Connie let out a sigh crossed with a laugh, a perfect mix of shock and exasperation. "The fans really liked Pete so they're mad that the lads seemed to just shove him out,"

"Not to mention Pete is way better looking than Ringo," Cilla mused teasingly, and Connie could tell that was banter her friend had already had with Ringo.

"Surely fans would just get over it though, like it's hardly their decision is it? Not to mention it was months ago, and Rich is the best drummer in Liverpool," Connie told them both firmly, deciding any opposition to the alteration of the band was ridiculous.

Of course she was biased, given her previous friendship with Ringo, but that didn't matter, not as they began to play and Connie forgot all about the politics of the band and lost herself to their music, dancing about as if it was the fifties all over again.

***

As soon as The Beatles finished their set, heading off stage to wild screams and applause, Connie decided that she wanted to go and find them and congratulate them on a great show. It had been an amazing set that night, and Connie felt as if she'd been electrified in excitement. She'd tried to go to a few gigs in London and find similar clubs but nothing ever quite matched up to the Cavern, and nothing certainly matched up to the Beatles. Those were facts that seemed to proudly swarm her mind as she said goodbye to Florence and Cilla, the two of them deciding to call it a night, Connie instead deciding to go and track down the lads.

As soon as she found them in the backstage area, she could hear them from around the corner, laughing and bantering with each other, the area of the club smelling strongly of cigarette smoke and alcohol, those smells reminding her of her late teen years when she would host boozy house parties most weekends. As she rounded the corner she saw them all, John and Paul lounging together on an old speaker amp as George and Ringo sat opposite them on top of a table, though as soon as George saw her he hopped off, running over to her. Connie couldn't help but notice how sweaty he was, which was no surprise given the energetic performance they'd all just done. Still though, that didn't stop her from pulling him into a hug as soon as he was close enough, laughing as he squeezed her tightly.

"Get off him Con, he's too cool of a rocker to have you hanging off him," John muttered as he lit up a cigarette, smirking at her.

"Bugger off, John," She rolled her eyes, ruffling George's hair as he grinned at her. "That was bloody great, the lot of you,"

"Cheers, Lennie," Paul grinned at her. "What we doing now then? Going back to yours?"

"Oh what do you do without me? Who hosts your gatherings when I'm in London?" Connie laughed, narrowing her eyes at her neighbour.

"Well we normally just go to Paul's and sit and look out the window wishing we were one house over," John told her matter-of-factly, and though she knew it was a joke she didn't know he was serious to an extent, and that he felt sad every time he had to walk through her garden to get to Paul's back door with the knowledge that she didn't live there anymore.

"Back to Con's, I say," Ringo agreed, and when she shot him a look he merely shrugged. "What? When you lived up North I wasn't part of the band. I finally want a band gathering over at yours,"

"Quit being daft, Rich," Connie teased, going over to hug the drummer next, wrapping one of her arms around his shoulders, finding his idea actually quite sweet. "Back to mine it is then, Dad's working tonight so, place to ourselves,"

The group continued to loudly discuss amongst themselves as they packed up, their minds now set on what was probably going to turn into a drunken night at Connie's house, something none of them had done for such a long time. Connie was thrilled at the thought of it, excited that she had friends to hang out with, those friends clearly wanting to spend time with her as well, and as the lads talked about the night ahead of them she couldn't help but think about the fact that they were excited too. It was like how it used to be, or how it should have always been, as Connie imagined how much fun her teen years would have been if Ringo had always been in the band, her entire friend group together rather than in rival bands. Being with John, Paul, George and Ringo together made Connie realise how good they were together, Ringo being the missing piece they had always been looking for.

The lads decided to leave their guitars backstage since they were due back at the Cavern for the lunchtime set the next day, and as soon as they'd all changed their shirts and put out their cigarettes, they proceeded to head out, choosing to go out of the main exit rather than the back door. It would be manic trying to get through the Beatles' many fangirls still inside the club, but it was a quicker route through the main exit to the bus stop, and none of them had the energy to walk the extra five minutes. So, after pushing their way through the many teenagers on the dancefloor, Connie winking goodbye to Rory who was performing on stage, the Beatles headed off up the stairs to the main street, Connie following closely behind, running up the stairs to the exit. Except as they stood at the door, they all noticed a loud noise coming from outside, as if there were hundreds of people swarming Mathew Street, sounding like there were more people surrounding the Cavern outside than there were inside.

"What the fuck-" Conie frowned in disbelief as she and the lads peaked through the door as they stood waiting to leave.

Outside on Mathew Street surrounding the doors was a protest made up mostly of teenagers and young adults, cheering out slogans and holding up banners. As they hovered cautiously in the doorway, Connie caught sight of one of the posters being held up, noticing it had a picture of Ringo on it with a large cross over his face. It was then that she also realised what exactly the crowd was chanting.

"Pete Best forever, Ringo never!" she heard them crying out, their calls making her break down into hysterical laughter, and as she shot a glance to the other lads she noted that she was the only one to see the humour, the rest looking rather serious at the prospect of facing the mob.

"All this chaos just 'cause you've got yourself a new drummer?" Connie asked them through laughter as the group hid behind the doors, assessing how they were going to get out.

"I'm very contraversial," Ringo mused with a shrug, making Connie laugh more, because how the hell was it Ringo that was causing such a riot?

"Well we can't just hide in the door all night," John pointed out impatiently, looking through the doors to see if he could spot a gap in the crowd. "I say we push Paul out first since he's the prettiest, and then we all surround Con since she's a girl and a soft southerner now,"

"Fuck off, John," Connie muttered, rolling her eyes, because of course he would use this opportunity to have a dig at her for moving down south.

"If we're surrounding anyone it should be Ringo," George suggested as if attempting to stop a potential argument between the Lennons, nudging the drummer. "He's the one who's blood they're baying for,"

It was decided then that they would all have to rally around Ringo, who seemed rather casual about the whole thing, which made Connie feel rather frustrated. Why should such madness be normal to him? He was just a drummer who'd joined a new band, not to mention a better drummer than the one he'd replaced. Connie just couldn't understand what all the fuss was about, but she wasn't going to question it too much as she and the lads quickly rushed out of the doors and into the crowd in an attempt to make their escape.

For a few while they went unnoticed as newcomers to the riot. The lads kept their heads down, trying to remain unrecognisable, but Connie couldn't help but look around, trying desperately to see if she could recognise anyone. A few faces were familiar, girls she went to school with, boys she'd serve drinks to back in her barmaid days, but they all seemed to blur into one. She thought for a faint moment they were going to get away with it, disappear out of the crowd and off down the other end of Mathew Street to the bus stop, but it was as they got to the edge of the crowd that they were stopped.

Someone, a young adult man who looked rather agressive with his messy hair and oversized leather jacket, grabbed hold of George's shoulder, and it was only because Connie had her arm looped through his to make sure they didn't get separated that she noticed, the other lads nearly missing the disturbance. The man was immediately in George's face, and as he grabbed hold of George's jacket lapel Connie realised how serious the situation was, fear seizing her for a brief moment as she saw the man get in George's face. Pete being fired from the Beatles was like a war, and one they were going to have to face up to, but she never considered it being so bad that George would get threatened.

The man yelled something unintelligible to George who immediately squared up, yelling back defence that Connie couldn't hear over the other noise and as the man screamed another insult at George he threw his fist at him, colliding with his right cheek. George recoiled in pain, hissing out a curse. She might not have heard what had been said before, guessing that it was something to do with Ringo, but she heard him swear in pain, that noise sticking out over everything else happening around her, and it seemed to instil fury in her, anger that she'd not felt for years. She saw red, and before she knew what she was doing she'd punched the man so hard she felt his nose crack beneath her knuckles and he fell back into his friends. Those friends seemed to rally around him quickly, swarming around Connie in defence for their friend, instantly fuming at her.

"What the fuck was that for ya' bitch?" one of the man's mates screamed at her, getting right in her face, though she didn't flinch, merely raising her fist at him as well.

"You fucking dare touch anyone of them lads and I'll 'ave you an' all!" She snarled at him, ready to hit him as well.

She probably would have done, if not for two pairs of hands grabbing hold of her shoulders and pulling her back. It was John and Paul, both of them getting a hold of her to prevent any further conflict, and reluctantly she allowed herself to be dragged away from the fight, even if she was still hurling insults, swearing in blind rage. At first it seemed as though the group of men who Connie had threatened were going to run after them as they fled down Mathew Street and part of her wanted them too. She felt like she wanted a fight after what that guy had done to George. Her anger and short-fused temper made her feel as if she could take them all on, even though that wasn't the case. She couldn't think of that though, all she could think of was George and the fact that he'd yelped in pain, and she just wanted to make everyone hurt for his pain. John knew that, and so even though the thugs didn't come following them, he kept his fist clenched around the collar of her leather jacket for good measure, pulling her along as they ran.

Connie and John were the fastest, though Paul, George and Ringo were shortly behind them, and the group only stopped as they reached the bus stop. Connie collapsed back into the bus bench as she gasped for breath, Paul sitting down next to her while the others remained standing, glancing at each other as they all tried to catch their breath. Ringo was stood with George, trying to look at his face in the poor lighting of the bus stop, but even in the dim light they could all see the black bruise forming.

A glance over to George filled Connie with heartache and anger, because of all the people to get punched, he deserved it the least. She'd not properly heard what had been said, but she knew he was defending his friend from the thug's comment, and whatever he had said didn't deserve getting a black eye for. Connie wished it had been her that the man had punched, because she knew even if she was the one with a black eye she'd feel much better than knowing it was George who was suffering. She looked to the floor, contemplating what her mixture of emotions meant and why she felt so overly protective of him, and for a brief moment she considered the fact that it might be due to her crush on him before she realised she would've punched the man back regardless of her feelings, because it was George. George was her best friend, and she would always defend him against anyone who tried to hurt him, even if the sight of him made butterflies stir in her stomach.

It was a few moments before any of them said anything, not from exhaustion but shock. It was as if they all needed time to recover from the chaos and the fight, but it was John who broke the silence as he tutted at Connie, shaking his head furiously. She looked over at him deadpan, sighing as he stormed over to her, knowing she was in for a harsh talking to, even if she didn't deserve one.

"What the bloody hell you playing at?" He exclaimed irritatedly as he stood over her. Not loving the dynamic of feeling him talk down to her, she shot to her feet, meeting his gaze square on. "You wanna get yourself killed?"

"No but I'm hardly gonna stand there and let someone punch George, am I?" She argued back, crossing her arms over her chest in annoyance, even more annoyed as she realised the rest of her mates were observing this disagreement.

"Yeah, that guy was talking bollocks about Ringo!" George defended her, his hand covering his cheek to hide his forming bruise. "If she hadn't hit him I would've!"

"Stay out of this, George," John dismissed, his anger clearly lying solely with Connie, and though she knew it was only because he was worried for her, it was still madly infuriating. "Connie, it's no good getting yourself battered to pieces, his mate looked like he wanted to bloody murder you!"

"Don't yell at me, John, and don't be bloody dramatic, it was self-defence!" she snapped back at him, rolling her eyes as she gestured over to George and Ringo. "We all know Ringo is the best choice for the band, but him joining the Beatles has opened a can of worms and it's gonna be rough for a while. It's not like I punched the guy just 'cause he insulted Ringo, the guy punched George and I wasn't just gonna stand there and watch,"

"She's got a point, John," Paul dared, trying to ease the tension between the two, though his focus didn't last too long on the Lennon's, soon shifting to George. "How's the black eye?"

"It's coming on fine, thank you for asking," George shrugged as he forced on a small smile, as if he was trying to reassure his friends that he was fine despite just getting punched in the face. "Thanks for being me knight in shining armour, Con,"

Connie shrugged with a small smile as she sat back down on the bench next to Paul, deciding that her conversation with John was over, done with shouting at him. Her old neighbour took hold of her hand to look at her knuckles as if checking she'd not hurt herself, not that he'd really be able to see them in the poor lighting, but Connie decided it was the thought that counted. She nudged Paul gently, gesturing for him to move up so the others could sit down, and once there was enough room George and Ringo took a seat, the two of them sitting in the gap in between Paul and Connie, with George taking a seat next to the latter.

John, however, remained standing, still shaking his head at Connie, which annoyed her as she failed to understand just why he was mad at her. He wasn't technically mad though, his anger more rooted in fear and worry, as she didn't fully grasp the fact that since she'd moved away John had barely seen her. Seeing her get into a fight during her first visit home in years reminded him of all the scraps she'd gotten into before, and how he was always impressed with how she'd punch much harder than most of the lads he knew. Except now she'd moved so far away and he worried for her, knowing that while she could hold her own against most things, she was out in the real world and could get hurt. Seeing her nearly get into a full-blown fight in George and Ringo's honour seemed to remind him of all that, his protectiveness coming out as anger.

"Get over it, Johnny," she insisted, sighing once more, and although he glared at her, he sighed too, moving closer to the rest of them, leaning on the post of the bus stop.

John didn't apologise for his outburst at her, but he did lean over and ruffle her hair. She took that as a gesture of solidarity, knowing that the air had been cleared between the two of them, flashing him a small smile. With that, she turned her focus onto George, placing her arm around his shoulder, resting her head against his. Even if by doing that she felt the nerves she couldn't help it, knowing there was nothing more she wanted than to just hug him and try and make him feel better.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly, looking into his eyes.

"Could've been worse, don't worry," he reassured her, putting his own arm around her, the two of them now hugging. "Thank you though, Con, you're the best mate a lad could ever want,"

They sat holding each other like that until the bus came, and even on the journey back to Forthlin Road they sat side-by-side, neither one of them wanting to be apart from the other.

***

Word count: 3921

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