Life goes on while you're busy making other plans.

Richie's first born son came into the world in the month of September '65 so celebrations were bigger, happier and lovelier that Christmas, although it all came and went far too quickly.

Pattie and George got married at the end of January, Richie and Brian attended as Paul, John and I were in America on holiday. Well they holidayed and I talked shop in New York.

I managed to get a new associate on board in Britian but he wanted to go back to his home country so he was there to start up my company in the USA! ...and I would consult by phone. It was a huge risk but we went for it. New York was a bustling metropolis of activity, even if we didn't get business from entertainment people we would see any old Joe Blow off the street.

"I'm so damn proud of you Syd, New York! You're a monster in the law world darling" John hugged me as we jetted back to Britain. Another album was in the works and the holiday had given Paul and John plenty of ideas and passion for the months ahead inside the four walls of the studio.

I was unwell for the Japan tour, a terrible cold keeping me in bed, so that crossed out Germany and Philippines too. Lucky I suppose looking back... When they got home it was like they had all been hit by a huge emotionally terrifying truck.

The Philippines had been horrid to them, and scary. I have never seen John like he was on return from that trip, blood shot eyes and a slight tremble to his hands when he recalled the events to me. I cried for him as he wouldn't, or couldn't, let the tears roll.

Another tour of America crept up on us. After months in the studio producing fresh sounds and dynamic music the lads were annoyed that the new sound, so lovingly and intelligently crafted, would not fit the stage.

Songs from a few years ago had to be rolled out again and again as the amount of technical advances they added to the new music produced could not be played live.....

***********

'Breakin' Up is hard to Do' blared from the radio in the lounge room. I danced around the kitchen singing along to the catchy tune.

"What's this?! Bloody Sedaka on the radio Syd?! Can't have you listening to that stuff" John strolled through the kitchen as I swung and twisted around him, dancing and laughing. He made a grab and I ran into the lounge room.

"....And now here's..... 'Sweet Sixteen' Another Sedaka spin, stay listening to Radio BBC2, this is Vince Lord's Smooth Hits afternoon" The radio announcer called across the airways, and we danced. I was hopeless but John was fun and we slipped through the moves fluid together, nothing wrong or right with the footwork, I was dipped and kissed then serenaded by my love as I walked around his kneeling frame.

"It's August and I still love you, some sort of record I would think" John hugged me to him and we danced with my feet on his cool leather Beatle boots, him shuffling us both about. "A prize? A medal perhaps?!"

"A kiss"

Then we kissed. Savouring this wonderful thing we had going. We kept moving, shuffling boots being careful of bare feet. I ran my fingers through his hair.

He was with me as we moved.

He was happy with me.... but sadness was simmering somewhere below the surface. And I always knew when something was amiss "Ok, spill it Lennon"

"What my darling?" John kissed into my hair.

"Somethings wrong, the trip? America?" Stepping back from his strong hold I turned the radio off and silence settled around us. John grabbed me from behind, touching and caressing my neck. Romantic and clingy in one.

"Am I that much of an open book Rox?"

"Always"

A big sigh fell from his lips "I will never get anything by you, will I"

I shook my head no and laughed, turning to kiss his cheek softly.

"Ok. Well then...Yes, there's a bit of problem with that interview I did ages ago. That one I did here at the house, with Maureen. It's gone abroad to the Yanks and they have turned it upside down, changing up and mixing my words about and what I meant by them. It's all gone to shit darling.... I don't..." John plopped down on the chair, his knee and foot facing in odd directions, he was double jointed I swear "I..Well, Stuff about kids and Jesus, they've taken it the wrong way and I'm in the firing line with the media over there apparently"

"Well don't go, you don't need to go. Cancel the lot, better to be safe here than worrying yourself over there"

"You know I can't do that, we can't cancel. Too much riding. I want you to stay home now though. It might not be safe, I don't want you hurt luv" I sat on Johns lap, after I unfolded his knee and foot to the right position. "I want to keep you safe, my luv"

"I would be safer with you" I hugged him tight he was so tense now, wound tight.

"Roxan there's no debate. You stay, I go. I'll be back as soon as I can, alrigh' " And with that he was gone to God knows where, hopefully to cool his head. I found myself headed to the den after a while. All the articles and newspaper clipping were boxed up in there.

I would read the article again, myself.

They left a few days after our chat, and while they toured, the whole lot of us Beatle wives and girlfriends stayed by the telephones for every hour, of every day... To bolster the boys when they rang with tales of riots and fires piled high with burning records and, to my absolute horror, the klu klux Klan was even mentioned.

*****

"I'm going"

"Rox he said stay here, he'll flip out if you go." Maureen spoke reason but I was adamant I was going to Candlestick Park, the flight was booked and girls were the only ones that knew my plans on this side of the pond. Well Brian knew and was shirty, but he didn't mention anything to John. I begged and pleaded that he didn't. I would land and go straight to the dugout at the stadium, Brian would meet me at the security gates....

*****

Before I knew it the stadium loomed before me.  I walked the halls of the underground monster as it groaned with the screams and chants of thousands.

Overwhelming noise and odd smells infiltrating my senses. An odd mix of smells assulting my nostrils as I made my way in....

Of baseballers leather gloves, hot dogs, and sweet cotton candy plus the dank musty smells that I could give no name.

Then fresh clipped grass wound around the more open breezy areas, refreshing on my nose as I kept walking toward the pitch.

A press pass dangling around my neck, another was in my bag and yet another, and a card of Brian's, stuffed in my bra. Three tickets to ride, to get away to safety after the show. Through the thousands upon thousands of sobbing and baying fans.

I saw a pool of light ahead and kept moving, one foot in front of the other. Doors off to the left opened and closed and I could hear the faint and familiar sounds of guitars and laughter. They were so close but I wasn't going in to them, John would freak and possibly yell at my naughty transatlantic jump.

I wasn't scared of the Jesus comment for him now; no that issue had abated to a minor annoyance by the time they left Seattle.

I..... I just knew something else was here. Something else was waiting, looming, over the boys.

Time was ticking, taking our lives with her and something in this madness was amiss.

Mal baulked when he caught sight of me in the shadows. I was trying to keep out of his view, and his worried interrogation I was assured to get. I moved forward hoping to out pace him. Silly really, even with his big frame he was spritely and beside me before I could get another ten feet.

"What the ruddy hell are you doing here young lady!?"

"Don't tell him, I'll watch from the dug outs! Don't say a word please Mal" I pleaded.

Mal shook his head and called me a "Mad Lass". He wasn't a liar, yet he wasn't a tattle tale either. I had put him on the spot with this but he still walked begrudgingly away as I made for the dugout.

I stood on tiptoes and peeked through the slit in the back of the dugout at the audience.

Lots of empty seats, half full maybe? The place was not what it should be.

I was flabbergasted by the change in attendance. So much of a shift in numbers. Was this the bands loss, Johns comments, or the medias doing?

I guess media. They grab the slightest bit of hate and turn it into evil and ugly. I tore my press pass off and turned toward the stage. "Oh my god"

"Hmmm, yes, it does look a bit daunting doesn't it, Roxan" Brian walked up beside me patting my back. He looked at his watch "They're having a bit of a shindig before the show... A last hurrah type of thing. Terribly late for the stage, but they won't listen, you know John"

"But the stage. It's a... It's a cage Brian!" I spit the words out and hold my chest at the thought of it "They are caged like animals" I shoved a tear off my face. This was too much, Too much for my boys, for John, to endure.

A cage.

The stage was way back, maybe behind baseballs second base. Way out in the middle of the field. It was up five feet off the ground and surrounded by a six-foot high wire fence. I stood back in the shadows and waited. It was windy and a drift of light fog would, every now and then, sweep across the field then be gone again like a thief in the night.

The announcer wasn't warming up the crowd he was tempering them down. The audience was baying for the band and the boys were yet to reach the dugout. I sat listening to the screams "Beatles, We Want The Beatles"

"Roxan, Roxan" I heard him calling all the way from the players rooms situated fifty or sixty metres down the ramp. My name ever louder as he raced up the ramp toward the field, towards me;

And then he swung round the pole to a sudden halt.

He was right there in front of me, paused in time, we just took moments to stare and drink each other in. I truly was seeing the other half of my soul, I knew it deep in my heart. His gaze shifted to behind him, to the ramp and I then heard George, Ringo and Paul marching up slowly, he turned back to me "I missed you so much Rox"

"You're not mad then?" I walked to him, into his embrace. We kissed softly, fleetingly.

"Never ever luv"

"It's over, isn't it" I searched his eyes and placed my palm on his cheek. The words coming to me as if drifting from a dream into my consciousness. The boys all pulled up beside John, looking at me like I had an extra eye in the middle of my head.

I repeated myself quietly "It's over, isn't it John?"

Slow nods confirmed my hearts knowing and we were all together again; hugging.

"Who told you?" George asked quietly.

"No one told her, well I probably did in my head. But she heard me all the way from home this time. Heard my thoughts over seas and miles of land. Always in my heart and soul"

"Oh" George pulled away and looked out over the field sullenly, looking much older than his 23 years "Better get on with it then, hadn't we."

"Here, take the camera with you, you be the photographers this time" I kissed John, and each one of the boys; and then they were gone.

Brian stood with me and we hugged each other solemnly. Brian tired from the tour, us both melancholy for what has passed, and silent in unison to listen... this one last time.

They reached the spotlights...

The stadium roared.

And we were all lit with the fuse that was- The Beatles live.

The fuse that they always set alight when they took over a room, stepped on a stage... played music around the world.

Electrical charged currents coursing through them to us; to everyone that listened.

Magic.

Like lightning never contained.