Lily toyed with the letter in her coat pocket, she was ever so nervous, ever so excited and the letter just reminded her over and over that it had been much, much, much too long between seeing them all.

The movie was wonderful and she was sure it would be a big hit and seeing them up there on that huge screen just made her want to clap and whistle her happiness that they were here... made it, famous and doing what they loved.

The minister jiffled in his seat, he was well over fifty and didn't at all enjoy the film, scoffing and huffing and drinking more and more glasses of brandy... As quickly as it was fetched, it was sculled. Lily inwardly groaned, she'd promised herself last month she would stop this stupidity. She wasn't spreading her legs, not doing anything naughty, nothing... but still she felt cheap most likely from the lavish things she was given... it wasn't normal, proper. Whereas a café would give her a small respectable wage; here, on nights like this, she was paid obscenely, pounds and pounds and given access to designers and dresses and shoes and hair salons ... she didn't open her legs but felt herself just as dirty as if she did.

He handed her the envelope before kissing her cheek goodbye.

He was polite and never was improper with her, she thought maybe he was priming her, getting her soft and making her drop her guard and then he would 'POUNCE'! Lunge! and perhaps then make her have sex...

But tonight, as she watched him wondering about being pounced, ....he had gazed off across the room toward another. Toward someone smartly dressed, with immaculate hair, lovely shiny shoes and it was then Lily saw what she had been blind to.

He was homosexual.

But he was widowed?! So, he had been married. How does that even work? Nonetheless, homosexual or not, he still had her escort him to events and premieres like tonight.

Lily stood an island in a sea of gowns. Her own beauty eclipsed that of the eye-catching dress, the emerald material against her hair and skin breathtaking but she didn't seem to notice her beauty only gasped in delight as everything that floated around her in the mirror at the boutique from where she had found it.

Men it seemed, took a moment or two, pausing and staring as they caught a glimpse of her stood perfectly still in the room. Most couples were mingling, accepting champagne, eating caviar on blintz after spooning the stuff from cut crystal glass with tiny spoons made pompously of mother of pearl, or nibbling tiny pretty hors d'œuvres. 

Lily clutched the letter tightly in her hand, it was a mess now. Having had to stuff it in her bra earlier when her coat was taken from her shoulders, destined for the cloakroom. She needed the letter, needed the grounding it gave her. She was smart enough to know she would have Buckley's chance of seeing the boys but deep down inside there was a small shard of hope swaying her from leaving the very spot in which she now stood.

Jane Asher, Pattie Boyd and Maureen Cox wandered past chatting between themselves never acknowledging the pressing newspaper reporters or bright camera flash bulbs, Lily read the magazines and knew all the girls by face now. She was interested in them, intrigued that the boys had managed to maintain relationships in the helter skelter world they seem to run around in; and perhaps, to be a little truthful, she was jealous.

Jealous that she didn't have that, someone to look after her, someone to hug, kiss in the middle of a lonely night or wake up with in the morning light. Lily shook her head lightly and the curls that fell about her face wiggled and jiggled making her feel like smacking them away. The movement of what seemed like hundreds of bodies tumbled from the room in front of her and all of a sudden, she could see him. Johns wife at his side, set lips, terse or worried Lily wasn't sure, but the woman was pretty, womanly and John held her elbow how she herself would like her elbow held- safe, secure.

Newspaper men pushed and prodded and Lily smiled a little... Her story was in the paper too but not one reporter knew that ... And she vowed to keep it that way. She stood her ground and as John neared he paused, turned a quarter turn and smiled for the camera then for her, he'd recognised Lily and she beamed back. Paul appeared, lit cigarette in his hand, he leaned in close to Johns ear, whispering something to which John responded and then Lily was blessed with a smile and wink from that flirty boy Paul. A nod of the head pointing her off toward the grand ballroom.

She sat like a wallflower for an age and watched the flow of people, craning for a glimpse or watching loads of people waiting for a chance to chat with the fabs. Celebrities from the movies, musicians and Princess Margaret in a beautiful shiny gown. They all looked so slick and shiny as if they had all jumped off the cover of the latest magazine on the newsstand.

It was a charity event held in support of the Variety Club Heart Fund and the Docklands Settlements, and Lily's ticket cost 15 guineas not to mention her dates ticket, which had gone to waste.

Lily was tired, she'd been targeted by a group of young men who seemed to have more money and fancy suits than sense. Standing up she skirted the throng to head toward the exit, it was no use, she couldn't see them nor they her. It was sad that she'd missed the opportunity to say hello but they were stars now, men that were feted not only in England but all over the world. Lil watched a few couples step inside from the balcony and decided she could hide out there for a little while, just to see if the hype of the event died down.

Lily stepped through the French door and was blessed to be standing in the stunning Art Deco curve of the Dorchester hotel overlooking the expanses of the Royal Parks. In the moonlight the trees glittered as the moonshine lit the leaves below her, the lights of the hotel lit the flower beds teeming with snapdragon, petunias and loadss more dazzling colour. From inside, lit with heavy chandeliers, to the outside, lit by the moon, she loved both. The charm and beauty of each offering visual delights and memories.

"There you are, I thought you'd left Lolly" John appeared beside her leaning well over the balcony railing as if to fall then peering at her face as she smiled a small smile at his entry into her vision. "Bit hard to get away. What with me being a movie star and all" John grinned, smirked actually, it was a big joke that they had made a movie and now here they all were with dignitaries and real movie stars wanting to meet them. "Hello Lil"

"Hello there" Grinning happily Lily wanted to launch at him, tell him everything that had been happening in her life but she didn't, there was a room full of people that would ask questions and titter.

"We're heading off shortly to the Ad Lib do you think you could make it there under your own steam, can't be sitting on my knee with the missus beside me"

"I guess so, maybe I should just go now before you all leave and create a ruckus"

"Yeah, you should do that, darling" John bent to kiss her cheek then pulled away at the last second. "I'll see you soon lu-lil" He grinned down at her then spun and disappeared back into the crowd.

The Ad Lib club

Located above the Prince Charles Cinema 7 Leicester Place, W1, Soho London. Overlooking the adjacent Lisle Street. Formerly Wips an unsuccessful jet-setter club.

Lily had no problem stepping over the threshold and hoping in the elevator, The Prince of Wales Theatre laid itself much like any other entrance on the street but opening a door brought a fourth floor mecca of noise, merriment and a tangle of celebrities.

Excessive noise, Lily had arrived and as she glanced about it was plainly obvious, she would not be just 'finding the group'. The place was awash of members of various rock bands, models, young actors and a few local boutique owners from Carnaby Street. She recognised them from shopping there regularly. Oh yes, she was an 'it girl' now. A group of groupies cackled by the DJ in the dim lights of the corner, they stood in enough light to allow the overflow of young virile single men easy viewing. To pick and choose their delight.

She spotted a Fleet Street columnist lay slumped on the bar to her right, flinched and ducked into the melee to her left, a posse of dandies of all stripes loud, obnoxious and self-important stared as she moved with swift feet, past.

And into the belly she crawled. The hippest clubs that attracted London's rock aristocracy in the Swinging London was dark, like a bank vault as you moved deeper and deeper into the depths, people pressing warm, and smelling of overpowering cologne, booze and perfume all mingling to create a mess of a scent on her nose.

All panelled wood, low tables, chandeliers switched off, rare dim lights behind cavities in walls switched on; dark, anonymous...... deafening noise grew as the DJ with the name Teddy scrawled across the side of the grand piano worked the room. Lily now was pressed against as a band of noisy men and their partners strolled through. All important. All, look at me, be jealous of me, want to be me, want me. The main man in the middle, caught Lils eye and winked.

From record decks spun American soul. 

Deep voices at loud levels, bass, drums all vibrating and invading your body.

....A wink that wasn't a joke.

A wink that opened doors, a wink that the girls beside the DJ saw and tittered and squawked then moved as one mass of flesh toward that man, the one who winked. Keith Richards paused beside Lil so close she could tell he liked orange juice and probably gin he gazed straight into Lils face they were inches apart and beckoned her with a slight nod of the head, she was thus courted- offered sanctuary or was it pandoras box.

Lily cast her eyes further afield basically dissing the poor man without a word spoken. But you couldn't, you see...

Talking – that didn't happen in places like this.

Yelling, eye movements, fingers touching, hand stroking, bodies pressing -that spoke. But talking -no. It was too loud for talking and Lily skirted the tiny dance floor where bodies pressed and lips talked only by being pressed against other lips.

Fur lined walls met her as she felt her way along the edge of building, how she groped was how she felt. Pitching, falling, dropping into darkness. She clutched fur, a weird excuse for soundproofing, and gathered her wits, so dark, her pupils swelled to find something to see, turning she clung to the fur and watched as Keith stalked his prey, it was dark here, he moved closer, tighter, length of body against length of body. Lily was naked fully clothed, fingers touched her arm.

"Gorgeous?"............. "Thank's Keithy, I'll take her from here"

Lily watched the two men stand toe to toe, neither bothered to look at her now, both too full of swirling ownership and fleeting possession of her. Lily reached for Paul, her fingers finding her mark, curling instinctively around his forearm, the movement sending a sneer to Keiths lip and the eyes rolled over another girl picking the Beatle over the Stone.

"Gee mate... you can't have every fucking female in London. Between you, John and Mick it's getting harder and harder to get a meal"

"Stop being jelly mate, it's unattractive..."Paul grinned happily at Lily then turned away from Keith "..See ya round Keith"

Lilys eyes, ever wide, glanced from two stoic faces to the opposite wall holding mirrors from floor to ceiling, the little light hitting the surface showing off a catacomb of alcoves and banquettes branching out from the tiny dance floor. She must have walked past it all.

Soul sounds turned into sad blues then r&b and "movers" and the "shakers" nuzzled and swung slowly on the dance floor.

The Beatles had their own table; of course, they did. The Ad Lib was one of the relatively few places that they all felt they could go without being unduly bothered.

Comfort in chaos.

The favourite drink- scotch and coke was 10/- a shot, a fortune; but the peace. Arrr the peace and quiet of the noise and friends was tranquillity from the obsessive and mania that hampered their every move in daily life. This was freedom without pressure. Play up, mess up, throw up – no one cared because you were exclusively- young, and supposedly in a classless world of clubs.

Upper mixed with lower class and most every night the Beatles would arrive around 10 pm when in town and hang and hold court at a banquette opposite the stage. Several hours, lashings of Scotch and cokes and attracting musicians of all ilk's.

All happily plying drinks on the kings of the court.

And best of all- no prying eyes, no nosey parkers, no press even though a few younger Fleet Street tossers accessed this sanctuary, they were like children, seen and not heard.

"Jean Shrimpton how the hell are you luv?" Paul yelled close to Jeans ear as she shimmied to the music on the way back to the Beatles table, always ready to talk, sorry yell, and always ready to laugh and smile.

"Oh, I'm here with Bailey, you know David? I think he went to fetch a drink but that was a while ago. Dance?"

They huddled together at the edge of the dancers. Three heads pressed closer than usual, not the proper way of chatting but anything went here, anything..

"Nah luv, special delivery to make yeah" Paul glanced at Lily grinning, then back his shining eyes flew to the pretty model "Where'd you learn to dance like that? Any hap?"

"Oh here and there, you know me. Shake a tree a night, find a club, find a floor. Jean-" Jean leaned closer, offered her hand Lily, they shook quickly.

"Lil"

"Oh, another lairy Northern girl" Jean grinned close, an inch or two from Lily's face. Like it was some big joke the whole of Liverpool was in London. Paul's fingers touched a lock of Lils hair "I see. I'll let you get cracking then. See ya"

"Bye luv"

Being guided by big warm hands Lily let him; his face leaning over her shoulder as he led from behind. One hand snaked around her waist the other holding her arm. Tight they were with people yelling and hollering and tapping his shoulder but Paul was flying, skirting, ducking, pushing through, back to the banquette table in the far, far, back corner. His fingers splayed, opened wide over her abdomen thumb pointing North, middle fingers, and pinky, down. A simple press but the signal alerted her nonetheless.

Warm breath on her neck, his front against her back as he paused waiting for Jagger to stop making a bloody spectacle of himself as he shoved a tongue down some new starlets throat a step or two in front of them. Warm fingers pressed in softly, ever downward again.

Lily felt him all along... her back, her bum.

Paul was flush, fixed hard in position, couldn't be any closer and Lily didn't care, it was beautiful. Paul, the one that posted her lovely long letters most every week. There were few if any moments spent in the others presence in the last year but it was inconsequential, there was connection, understanding and knowing of the others workings, thoughts and upside-down life.

Mick Jagger came up for air and grinned like the devil himself as Paul pushed past with Lily plastered to his front.

Then they were there.

"Oh, my lord its lu- oops, Lily. Lolly pop! Where the crikey bloody-body have you been?!" John grinned, Cheshire cat-like, over a raised glass of the speciality of the house, his toast to her appearance. "Sit right down and give Paul his bidy body back, naughty Lolly, I thought I invited you, not Macca?" John frowned as Lily took in the table.

He had asked her, not bloody Paul but Paul had his fingers and body plastered all over her as they made for the table. He'd seen, Pauls' possession and position, as they squeezed past patrons moving ever closer to him.

"Hello Lil!!!!" Rings popped up from under the table and gawked at Lily til she laughed "I couldn't get in the other way round so had to crawl under you see ... and John, your fly's undone" Richy pranked, John leaned back and looked down.

"How many times have I told you lot I 'ave to be 'eady for anything ya..." Johns words slurred a little and Lily realised two things in that moment. He was tipsy, and his wife was nowhere to be seen. "..bastard"

"Don't go calling me names Lennon, twas just a ruddy joke" Ringo pushed another half full glass toward John and all was forgiven.

"O' course it was. Heyyy hey, where's Georgie?" John may have been tipsy and not one hundred percent all there but he knew how to press buttons and this he did.

"Dancing with Pattie... and Jane"

"Oh Janee. Hey! Didn't youuu come with Janne, Paulie?

"And didn't you come with Cyn, John?"

"She's not here" Johns lips thinned and the tension between the two halves of the same coin rose notches over Lilys head.

With inches of room Lily was packed into the seat with John on one side and Paul on the other, just like on the train. They were loudly barking at each other, going back and forth over her head, she watched for a bit, then spotted George meandering back to the table with the pretty model in tow, and Jane, the redhead off the telly. Boy was her hair red- so beautiful.

"Oh hullo Lily"

Sliding into the seat George pulled Pattie onto his lap and squeezed her middle affectionately, young, sweet, fresh love and John snarled. It was all in horrid contrast to his own tart, pressured marriage. It was an uphill battle not to curse at the lovebirds as they carried on with flirty shenanigans, ignorant of his marital dilemmas.

"Hi George, how are you?"

"Fine thank-you, this is Pattie. Pattie, Jane, this is Lily. A friend from Liverpool! Haven't seen you in yonks, Lils"

"Hi Pattie. Hello Miss Asher sorry, Jane. Nice to meet you. I love your earrings, oh! Both of you have pretty earrings! It's been a while hasn't it, but you are all so busy and such. I got the new record though. Bloody marvellous"

"It was a good 'en" Paul was backing off, millimetre by millimetre she felt him retreating, so no one realised how close he had actually been. Then Jane was there, sitting on his lap, ever so cosy, and getting gifted Paul's teasing kisses.

John looked over Lily's features and pondered the retraction of Pauls frame. Did she have a favourite, was it Paul, or George- she talked to George easy like a sibling though, a younger brother. She was free like a bird, fluttering about, able to soar high, live life and worry none about babies or husbands and what time to be home; or listen to the constant nagging of where have you been's...

Lily yawned behind her fisted hand as Paul tinkered with her fingers that sat on her lap under the table and she wondered about his reasoning. Jane was on his lap and she was pretty, funny, bright, charismatic and still he tinkered with her own fingers.

John had been rather standoffish and she was sad that he left all the talking to George and Richy. John was smart and funny and witty usually. His long rambling letters dashed to her, were messy and addled but always full of information and things they had all encountered. She met his sad eyes and they stared for a bit, both having had a few drinks, John moreso than herself but she was warm and one of those magnificent blushes rose; blushes seemed to blossom continuously around these boys... And it was just marvelous to be in company that wasn't paid for, or scripted... or old.

Then John changed....He wasn't anymore. Wasn't being standoffish, that is.

"Tired?" John pressed closer, his lips brought to her ear. The music had gotten increasingly louder as the night wore on and now, his voice was there, close to her, warming her, and pleasantly deep in Johns northern, lad about the town, way.

"A little" She twisted and leaned to return the answer, her lips closer too. And they traded places as their whispered tete-a-tete went on. Lips to ear, then ear to lips as the conversation was undertaken.

"Share a cab?" John backed off, letting all know the conversation now.

Lily leaned back in the seat and stared into John, reading his thoughts, she was good at that now. Understanding people was a necessity and practiced part of her life, understanding men and their trains of thoughts was easy. Easier than women; although John, tonight, was a somewhat all over the shot... From biting sarcasm to little boy lost.

Lily nodded.

"I brought the Austin Martin, I can cram you two in if you like" Paul looked at Jane who nodded happily, unaware of the shared experiences or relationship the three had.

"There'll be two or three cabs out front. You just be getting that redhead looker of yours home son" John grinned, always good at throwing the scent in conversations, Jane beamed at the compliment.

"What's wrong with piling in the motor?"

"Nothing"

"Well then..."

"No. I can drop Lil home not a hassle is it"

*****

"Well, where is she anyway?"

"Who?"

"Your wife"

"Went home. Had a headache"

"Well the fans do carry on around you all, don't they" Lil tried to keep up with the undercurrent in Johns mind.

It swirled from sad to grumpy to forgetting. Leaving nothing but her- Lolly.

"She doesn't have a headache with the fans, Lolly"

"Oh"

"She has a headache of a husband apparently"

Lily rolled on her side and leaned up and rested her chin on her hand, elbow pressing into the mattress. They were both fully clothed.

John had started undressing... well he fell on the bed and undid his tie. Then he just lay there, unmoving.

"You are not a headache John"

"I am"

John closed his eyes then launched into a rant of all things Cynthia had said... "All I get is -  Won't do this, won't do that'. 'Be home for dinner', 'Dinners ruined'. 'Fetch Julian, it's your turn'. 'Don't make him cry, he's just a baby'. 'What's this letter here, from Charlene- dearest John'."

Then, opening tired eyes, he glared the rest at Lil "How the fuck should I know who Charfuckinglene is? Huh"

John closed them again. So tired, so flipping tired of being wrong, not in the right place, here or abroad. Doing nothing right, everything wrong. He rolled and watched Lily chew her lip "You're very beautiful, did anyone ever tell you that"

"All the time"

"Big head"

Sighing, she did as John did- closed her eyes. "I don't see it. I see nothing, blank and empty nothing ever full or complete. I see nothing" Lily opened her eyes; watching him, watch her "I have no connection to anyone, and you do John. That little baby so innocent and sweet, yours forever"

"Bloody scary all that"

"It's life and ties and love and it may be hard with a baby and I don't at all profess to know but he will grow and be a lad you can teach and even learn from"

"She wants me to grow up, be a husband, be home, sit by the fire" John stroked Lily's cheek "But the world beckons, tells me I'm rich... with endless freedoms" Closer, just a little closer... "Free from restraints, and clocks, and wives. A contradiction in all facets of my being" His fingers touching her hair... "I don't want to be leashed. I want to soar to great heights and come down only to visit. I want life"

John kissed her gently and Lily leaned back from his lips, he was so warm and knowing yet his eyes were lowered and contained, like a lion in a cage. He sighed as he traced her wrist, the marks under the skin, the history swirling and the memories rearing. He glanced up and smiled ruefully.

"Touch me.... Lolly" His fingers grazed from her ear down her neck, the dress still remaining "Stand up Lolly" so she did.

Turning about, waiting for him to stand too Lily wondered if her life would be a kaleidoscope of intimate short encounters but with absolutely no substance, no depth. She didn't doubt John and Paul, and of course Richard and Georges', friendship or connection with her. No, what she doubted was that she could be anything closer, to anyone.

Would ever be any closer to anyone.

The buttons popped and the zip ran down her side, slipping easily away as it released her body. Johns fingers now splayed over her shoulders, forehead pressed against hers, breathing, paused in delivery.

Lily instinctively took the initiative and worked the jacket from his shoulders, buttons from their place, Shirt falling away, soft touches in its wake.

Stepping back from him he lost his way, feeling insignificant and unwanted as she took the dress, his jacket and shirt and moved away, draping them over the armchair. John glanced about having forgotten the last room he encountered her in, til now. This room was a melody of softness and warmth, Lily through and through, the bed glorious and comfy, and the furniture warm and solid.

Lily stepped back to him, lace covered and pretty, like a million other girls but special, different, real and caring. Not here for fame or name, here because she liked him.

"Lolly girl, I like you"

"And I like you" Lily smiled as her fingers found his shoulders, John and Lil were easy and innocent together even with the name infidelity scrawled in the air above their heads.

This was Lily... and nothing was wrong, or could be wrong, with Lily.

The lighting of her room glowed with warmth and her eyes shone with everything he loved about her. Humour, wit, knowing, understanding; and, more importantly, no cage held him, or her. So he was now free, soaring high.

His fingers traced her lace.

Lily saw the moment his eyes, and of course, mind, switched course...

Sadness and loss swift like a swallow changing direction to hunger and lust of an eagle focused on his prey.

She stripped him.

Nothing is ever the same as before.

No two encounters alike.

As his lips met her lips and as he groaned his abandonment of his bound and shackled life to hers, he relished the seconds, the moments, the minutes.

Relished the freedom.

She soared and he wanted to fly too.

So... after raising fingers reverently to her cheeks, he began his ascent to blue azure horizons.

Pressing his flesh to hers, he took his place and let her overtake his mind, rule his body, make him forget, make him feel, make him truely smile, even if for only a little while.

Lily woke to emptiness, a small ripped piece of paper from her notepad and a few words scrawled hastily across her universe.

'See you soon'

He could have woken her.

Didn't anybody tell him that when a man loves a woman, a woman wants to see his eyes afterwards .... in the light of day.

See his emotions, for her, in them.

Didn't anybody tell her, her life wasn't to see herself in his eyes.... in the light of day.

Didn't anybody remind her, that sex wasn't love at all.

Lily let her mask drop. She set aside her happy demure and let a sad lonely countenance settle for a while. Then, she was back, sighing and letting go of the loneliness, recalling her strength. She tossed the paper aside, rolled over, and fell back to  sleep.