Four Years Ago

March, it turns out, is really not the best time to visit the seaside.

When John had first suggested they go away somewhere for the day, 'To the beach perhaps,' Ruby had imagined warm golden sands, a clear blue sea and the smell of ice cream and candy-floss filling the air. Because, it's always sunny and nice at the seaside, isn't it?

Well, no, apparently it's not.

The train had taken nearly four hours. They'd reached Scarborough, on the east coast just before twelve, and just in time for the sky to open an almighty downpour.

They sheltered in the railway station awning, watching the rain splattering up from the street as people outside dashed for cover. John's face was almost as black as the sky. Ruby tried to cheer him up and make him laugh to varying degrees of success.

'Oh, come on,' she said as he frowned and turned away. 'We're only here for a few hours, we might as well enjoy ourselves.'

John forced a thin smile. 'It's just, I wanted it to be perfect.'

'It will be,' she said, taking his hand.

The rain abated after a few minutes, almost as suddenly as it had begun, so they battled their way down to the north bay. Scarborough was split into two beaches - the north and south, overlooked and divided by the ruin of a 12th century castle that stood on the cliff above the town. The north beach was abandoned. Rough waves splashed against the sands and the sea wall further along. All the seaside chalets were locked and the one solitary cafe was closed, so they continued along the marine road, fighting against the wind which made walking difficult and conversation impossible.

Once they reached the south bay there was finally a little bit more life. No one braved the beach, except for an optimistic lone deckchair seller who eyed John and Ruby hopefully as they passed him, but the promenade was lined with cafes, pubs, arcades and souvenir shops. Rock and roll music flooded out of most of the doors, colliding in a noisy cacophony.

'This is a bit more like it,' John said, brightening up.

They wandered down the promenade, pausing every now and again to look at the sun faded postcards, sticks of rock and kiss me quick hats. John offered to pinch one for her; Ruby stared at him aghast and hurried him on down the road.

Rain began to fall again, a little more gently this time, but after a short while they ducked into a cafe for a cup of tea to warm up. After they exhausted their welcome there, they had to take shelter in one of the arcades, full of fairground and carnival games, one arm bandits and fruit machines, all designed to separate you from your money. Penny pushers, hooplas, and test your strength machines twinkled enticingly. Elvis and Bill Haley played on a loop in the background, but the arcade was more or less empty, except for an old man leaning on a cigarette machine, marking the betting form in a newspaper and the odd hopeful gambler forcing pennies into the naughts and crosses machines like there was no tomorrow.

'Want me to win you a goldfish?' John offered as they passed the hook-a-duck again, on their third tour of the arcade.

Ruby looked at the poor tiny fish hanging in little bags behind the pool of yellow rubber ducks. 'I'd look well taking that back on the train with me,' she laughed.

'We could release it back into the sea,' John said.

'That's saltwater. They need fresh water or he'd die.'

'Better not then,' John said, nodding to the man who stood behind the duck pool.

They went to stand beside the front of the arcade to watch the rain. John leaned on one of the penny pusher machines and finding a coin from somewhere, fed it into the machine. Ruby watched as the bronze penny fell down in a jerky fashion, finally coming to rest on the moving shelf at the bottom. As the shelf swept backwards John's coin pushed the other money forward and a handful of coins fell out in the the drawer below. John bent down and scooped it out.

'Look at that, there's about two bobs worth there,' he said, showing it to Ruby.

'Oi!' A shout behind them. Ruby turned to meet five Teddy Boys. Except these weren't like the Liverpool Teds that hung around on the street corners at home. These ones were a lot sharper dressed and a lot scarier looking, in single button drape jackets, trimmed with velvet collars and large turned up cuffs, over white shirts with rolled collars. Black leather oxford shoes and suede creepers on their feet.

'That's mine, that,' the Ted at the front of the group spat, stepping towards John. Ruby instinctively took a step backwards, but John remained still. 'I've been feeding that machine all morning,' the Ted continued. 'Then as soon as my backs turned, you swoop in there and steal it.'

John glanced down at his hand which still held his pennies. 'Whatcha talkin' about?' he said, squaring up to him. 'We've been stood here ten minutes. You weren't anywhere near it.'

'Oh, I should have known. A fuckin' Scouser,' the Ted said loudly, turning to his friends. He went back to John. 'Trust a bloody Scouser to jump on yer pusher as soon as you've fed it up.'

'Fuck off,' John said, and Ruby was a little taken aback by the venom in his voice.

'Why don't you fuck off back to Liverpool? We don't want your thieving sort round here.'

'You can't steal a machine. You put money in, you lose, I put money in, I win. That's how the game works. Or are you too stupid to understand it?'

'John...' Ruby said, nervously.

The Ted took a menacing step forward but John stood his ground. One of the Ted's friends put a hand on his shoulder. 'Leave it, Bill. We've got places to be, remember?'

The Ted shrugged him off. 'Sod that. This Scouse bastard's not getting away with it.' He raised his fist and at the same time, John lifted his, throwing the handful of coins into the Ted's face. The Ted flinched away and John turned and grabbed Ruby's hand, running off down the promenade before she'd chance to realise what was happening.

'I thought you were going to fight them all,' Ruby said, breathless, when they finally stopped further down the seafront, leaning on the cold wall of the lifeboat house.

'All five of 'em?' John laughed. 'What do you think, I've got some kind of death wish or somat?!'

* * *

August 1963

There had been some strange days in Ruby's life, but this one was definitely in the running for the strangest. Or perhaps surreal was a more apt description. It hadn't been lost on Ruby either, that a great deal of them were either directly or indirectly the result of knowing John Lennon. Although she hadn't seen him in four years, here they were, drinking together, laughing, talking, as if no time had passed at all. At some point John's arm had snaked it's way along the back of the upholstered window seat and around her shoulders. She hadn't even noticed him do it. It just felt... normal. Natural. It could have been another Friday night at Ye Cracke.

And then again, it wasn't. This was The Beatles she was casually sitting and drinking with. The Beatles! John was even still wearing his stage suit, although the sand from the beach still clung to the back of the jacket. It was quite an odd feeling. He was still John - wise cracking and taking the mickey out of everyone - but there was no getting away from it, he was also Beatle John. There were girls who'd give their right arms to be sitting here with him.

It had been rather awkward when they'd arrived. The other three Beatles had been seemingly waiting in the bar for John, and they hadn't been able to hide their surprise when they saw Ruby with him. There was another man with them, a huge guy, all bundled up in coat and cap when they'd arrived. The relief was plain on his face when he said, 'Oh, John. I was just coming to look for you. Fancy running off like that. Brian would have had my guts for garters!' He was introduced to Ruby as Mal, another Liverpudlian who'd 'been there in the early days' was John's clipped explanation of his role. Paul had clucked about John like a mother hen, until John had told him - rather rudely, in Ruby's opinion - to back off. Or at least, words to that effect.

She'd only met Paul a handful of times in Liverpool. He'd been really rather the same then. Concerned with the band and their music. Single-minded when it came to it. Reprimanding John if he missed any time when he should have been rehearsing with them or writing songs with Paul, rather like a school teacher. Only he had succeeded where a hundred of John's teachers and college lecturers - and even his Aunt Mimi - had failed. Paul had managed to get John to apply himself. John had wanted The Beatles to be successful, of course, but even Ruby could see that Paul was a driving force behind the band as well.

Ringo was the person she'd known the longest - although sporadically, and never while he'd been a Beatle. She'd spent most of her childhood in the Dingle. Ringo had lived a couple of streets over. Although he'd been Ritchie then. She'd known him up until they'd moved across town when Ruby was about eleven. Ringo had been in hospital at the time, she'd not had the chance to say goodbye. They'd met a few times after, mostly by chance in the street in the middle of town. He'd always smile and say hello. How funny that he'd end up being The Beatle's drummer. He hadn't changed a bit.

George, conversely, had changed the most. The last time she'd seen him - he must have been fifteen or sixteen - a gangly awkward teenager with quiffed hair and doe eyes. He'd grown up a lot. The boy was gone, replaced by a handsome, self confident man. Those beautiful brown eyes the only thing that seemed to echo back to George the teenager. People had nicknamed him the quiet one, but if you spent ten minutes in his company, you soon discovered that was a misnomer. John had always been a bit mean to him, talked down to him, back in Liverpool. Considered him less than an equal because he was so much younger - three years! A chasm! But John couldn't deny George's talent when it came to the guitar. And when he produced an acoustic one from somewhere in the tiny hotel bar room, he showed he still had it. You'd think he'd be fed up of playing it, night after night, but apparently not.

'You're quiet,' John said to Ruby as George strummed loudly and Paul, having shook off the sulk John's earlier comment had induced, sang along mawkishly and rather out of key; not pop songs tonight though - instead old pub songs and drinking songs that Ruby hadn't heard since she'd left Liverpool.

'I was just thinking,' Ruby replied. 'How much you've all changed.'

'I haven't changed at all,' John said indignantly.

'Yes you have,' Ruby smiled. 'Gosh, at least I hope you have.'

John laughed. 'I wasn't that bad, was I?'

'John, you were a nightmare. You were always getting in trouble, or in fights, or if you weren't, you were getting drunk instead.'

John snorted. 'How come you stuck with me then?'

'Well, you weren't quite that bad, I suppose.'

'Not quite that bad,' John repeated. 'I think that's the best review I've ever got.'

'Besides, I knew the real you, didn't I?'

John raised an eyebrow and winked. ''Nother drink?' he offered.

* * *

Four Years Ago

'I didn't bloody do it on purpose,' John snapped.

Ruby bit her tongue in an attempt to stop herself from snapping back and refused to look at him. She checked the timetable again, in case it had rearranged itself in the last few moments. 'I don't understand. I thought you'd checked it...'

'I did!' John protested. '...I must have read it wrong. Look, what's eighteen? Eight, isn't it?'

'No,' Ruby sighed. 'Eighteen is six, twenty is eight.'

John frowned. 'Then the last train back was at half six, not half eight,' he said defeatedly.

As if on cue, the clock above the station began to chime for eight o'clock. Ruby pulled her coat around her a bit closer. There was a cold draught blowing through the empty railway station.

'First one is seven thirty tomorrow morning,' John told her as a lone railway porter wandered up.

'Lost?' he asked. 'Where are you looking for?'

'Liverpool,' John said gruffly.

'Oh, it's gone is that one. No more trains tonight,' the porter told them needlessly. 'Next one's tomorrow morning.'

'Yeah, we know, thanks,' John replied flatly.

'I'm locking up now,' the man continued, producing a metal loop with several keys on it.

'Oh, okay,' John mumbled, taking Ruby's hand as they left.

'It's not so bad,' John said, as they walked down a narrow passageway between the railway station's outer walls, towards the south bay again. 'It's only one night. We can go and look for a hotel or something,' he grinned, trying to cheer her up. 'Pretend we're newly weds, just eloped.'

Ruby returned his smile weakly. 'How much money have you got left?'

'Couple of bob or so.'

Ruby sighed. 'We'll need that for the train back tomorrow. The return ticket won't --'

Before she could finish, three figures appeared at the end of the passage, blocking the way. John stopped and Ruby, sensing his tension, looked at him. He squeezed her hand and turned to go back the way they had come, but there were another two standing behind them. Ruby realised they were the Teds from the seafront - the one's who'd tried to pick a fight with John earlier.

'Look what the tide's washed up,' one behind them said, as both parties drew closer.

John dropped Ruby's hand and stepped in front of her, seemingly to shield her from them. 'Alright, lads?' he said, Scouse suddenly noticeably thicker.

'It's that fuckin' scouser,' another one chimed in. 'Thought we told you to clear out?'

'Yeah, well, we tried,' John replied boldly. 'No fuckin' trains running out of this shithole, is there?'

'What did you say? I can't tell a word he says in that bloody accent.'

They'd crowded in close to them now. The wall came up behind Ruby, with John standing close in front of her. Two of them were at least half a foot taller than John, but even if they weren't he wouldn't stand a chance against five of them.

'Uh, look, lads,' John said, his voice a lot more steady than Ruby felt. 'Let her go, eh? She's only a girl.' He nodded towards Ruby.

'Fuckin' Scouse slag,' one said but one of the taller ones put his hand up.

'S'alright,' he said. 'She can go.'

John pulled Ruby out from behind him and roughly pushed her through the group of Teds. 'Go 'ed,' he said quietly. 'I'll see you after.'

Ruby stared at him. 'I'm not leaving you here!'

John shoved her again. 'Go,' he said. 'Now! Run!'

Ruby looked from him to the Teds and opened her mouth to protest, but catching John's eye again, backed away before turning and running down to narrow passageway back towards the main street. Breaking out onto the road, it was deserted. Earlier that day it had bustled with holiday makers, shoppers and travellers, but now it was empty. Almost stumbling, Ruby ran down the main street, looking for help, a policeman, anything. As she reached the top of the steep hill which lead down to the beach, she stopped, out of breath and frantic. She could either carry on down the hill in the hope of finding someone to help or... or...

Whirling round, she ran back the way she came, back towards the railway station and the narrow passage beside it, where she'd left John. Left John - what the hell was she thinking? She dreaded to think what had happened to --

As she reached the end of the passageway she stopped dead. It was completely clear. They'd gone, and John with them.