"Hi ya Pattie, decided to come alone then.....?" John swung the door open, having a quick tease within Georges earshot "You do look lovely Patricia- new hair Or the old one?"

"Oh John you're so silly. It's all my hair on my head" Grinning happily Pattie looked over Johns shoulder to see who was inside already enjoying the party "Oh is that Mick, who's with him?"

"Oh, hell no- John's here too..." Jackie muttered making George snort a disgusting noise. Jackie spun on the spot to tell George off with a hissing whisper "Why didn't you warn me!"

George, of course, shrugged and grinned like a naughty school boy whispered back "I only found out three steps ago myself Jackie"

"He's got a blonde with him. Keith a blonde and a brunette. Charlie's asleep by the window... Not sure why Brian or Bills not 'ere."

Jackie lingered on the step below Pattie not bothering to come completely up onto the landing by the door and George remained right behind her, stood a tad to the left, so he could see John annoyingly chatting up Patricia.

"Oh! there he is, Mister Droll, what's up wack? Haven't seen you since half three at the studio... weren't those the good old days" John stared, his peering gaze beholding the sight down the few stairs away from him. He grinned with an evil looking jokey grin as he caught George smile at some bird beside him, he had a hand to her back and looked pretty damn happy. "Jenny?"

"No John, it's not Jenny" Cynthia, appeared with a sleepy Julian "Leave them chat"

Jacqueline fairly quivered. She felt it, George felt it and possibly the whole block of apartments felt the worrying tremours that burst forth upon seeing Johns mug at the door.

The panic of being on the brunt of Johns venom this evening seemed incomprehensible. She couldn't deal with the lot of them waggling fingers and giving her back what she had given them – a bollocking.

It was official. She was a big clucking chicken.

Jackie spun around to remove herself from the building. The whispered, gnarly conversation continued with George out of earshot of all those on the landing "Move George"

"Umm no, you're not leaving, you just got here. It'll be fine Jackie"

"Did you not hear him the other day?"

"Johns all bark and no actually bite... Well not normally"

"That makes everything so much easier"

"Yes, I suppose it does"

"I was being sarcastic Georg-"

"Hey you lot!" John stepped out into the hall and knocked on the door frame as he did so. The sight of the two stair dwellers squabbling and laughing, well George laughed, making him both intrigued and pissed in equal measure. Well if he's not in the on the joke, what's the fun of it eh "Hey! .... Scusy peoples, parties inside, not in the stairwell mates"

"Alrigh', all right. Coming John" George waved offhandedly at John then leaned in for Jackie's ears only "Come on, better get you sorted into a closet I suppose" He smirked jovially. This was a wonderful start to what looked to become a smashing night.

First up, there was the news -Jackie was Hitler, then her having come here looking like she stepped out of one of Pattie's saucy fashion magazines pictorials.

Jackie hadn't any legs the other day in the studio, well she did, but they were covered in hideous looking matron stockings... today she had on ultra-thin black ones with a bloody daring line running right up the-

"What?! I can't go in a closet"

"I was kidding Jackie"

"I'll just pop off and catch the bus. Move aside please Mister Harrison"

"John!" George yelled, the stairwell was excellent acoustically and the yelp for Johns help would have been heard from ground floor to roof top, Jackie cringed by his side.

"Yea Harri, what's up yer kiber?" John glared into the stairwell it bloody well looked like Jenny but both bozo Harrison and Cyn reckons it ain't, so he'd just have to trust them on that... seeing as Geo is bonking Jenny's sister.

Jackie knew she had to move one way or the other, up or down. Pattie would be dumbfounded to why George and her were stood staring at each other on the stairs, John would likely hit the fire alarm just to get everyone moving and if George gloated at her misfortune a moment longer he would fall over from the weight of his smirk.

"Tell this one to get herself inside please John" Smiling sweetly George was trying to give Jackie good vibes along with a good English shove. She was looking a tad lost and well, truth be told, more than a bit nervy at the thought of John finding her out.

George lowered his voice conspiringly "He'll never recognise you, you know"

"Come on luv, it's a chilly degree in the hall and my hand is empty"

Jackie frowned at George, he had John on her back now. Walking away was hard enough with George carrying on, now John stood bellyaching for her to move as well. It was really going to pot now.

Pattie was still blind to what she had done at the studio and George knowing just who she was put a horrid twist on that.

John was stood there staring daggers into her back, she could feel them, he was doing so not even knowing she was the bloody cleaner from the other day, what would happen when he realised....

"She's a bit nervous to meet everyone, you know how it is" George happily offered up making Jackie seem even more like she was some knobbly knee'd fan girl that would keel over at a wiff of Johns body odour.

"Well I don't really know what it's like to be nervous around loser musos and the like but heaven to Betsy I've been known to get a bit woobly when meeting stunners like Bridgette Bardot. Remember Geo- I drank gallons that afternoon"

Jackie frowned then grimaced then produced her best Pattie styled pout. And still George ignored her plight, he only flicked his wrist to point her up the stairs.

For better or worse it was best to get it over with, swallow the bitter pill, be ridiculed and laughed at by however many milled about inside.

She gradually moved up the staircase at a snails' pace, George joyously prodding her rudely in the back all the way. John hadn't altered his stance and remained fixed to the doorway, Pattie was long gone inside to fetch a drink with Cyn.

And there he stood all potent and snarly Lennon looking, all man; not looking one ounce like a boy nor a prince that had infatuated her daughter the moment his mug greeted her eyes on the album Jackie herself had unwittingly purchased... And him being him, a man, well that made Jackie mildly annoyed. Mildly? Alright really annoyed.

His eyes began roving slowly and Jackie stood uncomfortably exposed in front of him as he took his time. She felt little, tiny, incapable of stringing a sentence together in that moment, he had her feeling naked under his lazy wandering eye; naked- she was wearing knicker's right?! Anyway, naked and bereft of any mettle whatsoever. She was frozen like a statue, incapable of movement as John took in all of Patties handiwork, the close-up leering taking a toll on her tongue. He grinned wolfishly, almost greedily. He liked what he saw and Jackie felt a deep blush rise and threaten to overtake her cheeks.

"Sweetheart my flat is all yours" John spread his hands wide beckoning her inside.

"It's not his, it's Pauls. Push him and escape to Pattie, Jack" George thought he was helping but now, she had another to contend with- Paul. "And Jackie... remember to smile luv, it's a ruddy party"

Jacqueline could have died a thousand more deaths with this new revelation. News of the flats owner. She threaded woodenly through the doorway past a still gawking John, his gaze seemingly fixated on her legs.

This was Pauls flat.

McGorgeous lives here.

I'm in Perfect Pauls flat.

Signal the lighthouse this ship, HMS MockTarty, is about to run aground....!

All she needed now was Ringo and the Princes of EMI would be assembled once again before her very eyes but she would be on the receiving end this time, she knew that for sure.

John stared after her, Jackie's fingers gripping her hem close to her behind tugging it down "Jack? What sort of names Jack for a bird"

"Jackie- Patties friend"

"Oh, another model? Got the pins for it even if she's a little midget short"

"Nah Jackie is Pats assistant."

"Cyn" John hollered across the flat "Any thoughts on getting an assistant for me?"

****

Pattie raised her glass then paused as she watched Jackie almost shrink into the maroon curtain that fell behind her when John wandered past. Jackie pouted after him. "This pouting caper is becoming a regular thing between the two of us and you're currently winning the race. Aren't you having fun Jacks? The shrimp cocktail was yummy"

"I guess so. It's pretty way out what with all these celebrities. I'm really out of my depth. I've not a thing to say. And it's them you know. From my record sleeves... from Beth's wall" Puling her gaze away from Ringo trying to twist in around an inch square of room, Jackie stared at her full glass contemplating the liquids capacity for making her numb to deaden the shock of the evening. With a little too much gusto, Jackie knocked back her second double whisky sour in one swift movement.

Pattie pressed her own untouched drink into Jackie's hand. "You need this more than I do by the looks of it. Jackie they are all men, dumb men. They all do horrid smells and use the toilet and leave the seat up. Don't worry so much. Don't make them into more than they are"

"Ta..... I know you're right of course. I ummm, I have an admission to make though" Jackie knocked the third whisky sour back. Mmmmm they were wonderfully warming and skimmed and flooded her belly with a nice pleasant glow. Also for Jackies benefit, they were just as good, if not better, than medicinal sedation.

Pattie strolled her eyes over the assembled menagerie of 'celebrities' "It's just Mick and Keith, that fella from The Animals. Oh, there's what's his name- Gerry"

The enticing aroma of him came ever closer but not within grasping distance unfortunately, or was the fortunately, for Jackie?

If only she could have a small plateful, like a tasting plate of the delectable and delish dish that was McCartney.

Somehow, with some sort of perverted luck, Jackie hadn't run into Paul at all- yet. Her standing in the darkest part of the well-lit room did her no service of course and the crowd of famous people swarmed around bottles of liquor on card tables and lounged on the floor when there wasn't a spare chair; so her post was something of a hairy point to get to.

Picking a path through the musicans was a task, picking a path without those on the floor gazing up at your wotsit, unachievable.

And she was in a room full of record covers.

Musicians and their entourage of many ladies and managers. The flat was brim full. The Buddy Holly record skipping every now and then, as it played in the background... 'That'll Be The day' a somewhat fitting tune for Jackie, this was indeed her day.

If Beth were here, her autograph book would be full, brim full and Jackie felt that tiny twinge of guilt that a mother feels when she is doing, seeing and possibly touching those things a child would give up next Easters chocolate eggs, and a lifetime of lollies, for.

There will be no touching Jacqueline.

It was rather uplifting to be eyed up though.

And she was giving an eyeful to those that took the time to look. Thanks to Patties dress-up day, Jacqueline's legs appeared twice as long and her boobs were out there in front too, not hidden away like rolls of toilet paper behind the door.

" 'Ello luvs, glasses full?" Paul held a bottle of red wine up in the air, wiggling it a little as he laid questioning eyes on the two girls "Nice drop, yeah" Pattie was happily having her glass filled as Jackie hung back, drinking her own parched eyeful of Paul McCartney in.
Watching his hands wrap the bottle...

Just his hands were mesmerising her...  She was gone, suddenly jello, before he even turned fully her way.

And that little bit of space between his parted lips, which fell open as he poured the wine. Swoon.
It made her want to be a devil and place a trembling finger just there, gently on his teeth near the tip of his tongue, for him to nibble, or suck ever so tenderly- Entirely his choice of course.

Stop it Jackie!

Paul spun a 360 degree turn, laughed at some joke Ringo yelled from across the room and returned to face her...

Her, in her stupefied, rapidly overheating state. "Pet?"

He's talking....

To me.

"Oh pardon, sorry- No. Best not mix the drinks" Jackie's fingers itched desperately to touch him. His cheeks, his hair, that nose, he was so perfect looking. God his jaw was so perfectly chiselled .........

And he was close.
The tide of movers and shakers pressing him ever closer as the front door let more 'friends' in.

Paul took the opportunity to make her knees buckle more so. He lifted her hand, the hand that clutched and held her empty glass like it was her security blanket, and smelt the remains of Jackie's recently skulled drink. "Arhhhh, I know just what you need"

Oh yes, I really need lots please.

Jacqueline, stop it!

"Don't move. I'll be right back" Paul scattered across to his small kitchen and Jackie fell on his sofa staring quiet literally stupified after him.

Through bodies and legs, her eyes strolled at a frantic pace to keep his well-shaped butt and lean legs in sight... Just in case he lost his way between the two rooms and she could assist him home, oops, I mean back to the party.

He's just a baby.....

There's not that much of an age difference.

What are you thinking you imbecile, he's famous - you're a teenagers' mum.

Jackie closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, it was nice to daydream and if he were so close and so dreamy in real life why the hell not!
He'll probably turf me when he knows I'm me-  the cleaner.

John will definitely chuck me from the balcony. Jackie grinned devilishly to herself. John had been all burrs and bluster, wit and retort, it was nice that, wakeful to the senses, making a sleepy mind jump to life.

"There now. Your very own whisky and fresh glass, luv" A kneeling Paul was so close in front of her, like her slave, like he had all the minutes in the world for her. "Lovely eyes you have." His fingers brushed over her cheek and Jackie squeezed everything tight to stop all the feelings he stirred.  They were poised ready, on high alert, threatening to engulf her. "I have to apologise I haven't any lemon left. I can nip to the shop if you can't drink the whisky straight? Or I have some other choices sherry, a little gin?"

His born pleaser emerged before Jacqueline's very eyes. The perfect host, making everyone feel wonderful. He tinkered boyishly with the cap of the whisky bottle while he offered alternatives, eyes tracing over her face as he did so.

Jackie leaned forward inexplicitly taking his hand in hers to stop his fussing with the cap. On and off it went a he chattered about the ingredients of a few drinks "Stop!!" She giggled happily forgetting all about her nerves "It's perfect. Thank-you Paul...." She smiled brightly, she couldn't help it, he was so lovely making sure she was alright. "Whisky's just fine"

Paul leaned on the sofa, fingers brushing dangerously high on her thigh, She trembled uncontrollably inside, biting her lip wishing it wasn't just an accidental touch of his warm skin to hers. His fingers found mark, searing her skin and Paul grinned at her as he pulled the glass across the table.

His eyes twinkled and his smile broke into her heart..... Opening her chest like a surgeon, stealing her heart like a thief.

And it also seemed to Jackie's demented delirium he was taking a grand old time in dragging said whisky glass across the narrow table, bringing it closer, oh so politely, for her to reach. She shook her head to rid herself of the silly connotation her mind was tossing widely about and attempted to quell the attraction she felt for him.

It was all a dream, an impossible dream. Yet he was terribly close and as he leaned over Jackie felt him, his chest pressed across her thigh and she couldn't see anything but him- no party, no guests- just him. His hair falling across his face just so.... and when he turned those orbs her way, she was lost.

And now she knew, without a doubt.... as the seconds passed............ she was most definitely losing her mind!

"You're absolutely sure?" Paul questioned again as he tilted the whisky bottle and filled her glass.

"Absolutely... see" Jackie slung another half glass back.

Paul gave a quick sharp laugh and let a charming smile settle on his face. He decided to sit with her a while.

"You've certainly a strong throat for it. I wince a bit really, tell the truth. We all go for scotch and coke, seems to be the safest way to knock it back" Pouring them both a glass Paul watched her fingers carefully tinker with the etched face of the glass, tracing and racing all over. She was nervous, grinning down shyly at the glass in her hand. He hated that mostly, girls all worried and concerned that he was Beatle Paul. Not a person- a Beatle. They forgot he was still a bloke, wanting a chance with a pretty girl.

She looked up in that moment, held his eyes and the nerves and fluttering she felt inside reached out to claim her, to make her so sick with nervousness she would scare him and herself. She tried hard to relax, conscious of his proximity, conscious of unravelling, the sort that would make him run far, far away.
Jackie wanted to keep him here, near her a little while longer. Watch him, listen to him, converse with him. She had to speak, just had to talk normally not like a fan but a person because he was a person, granted a hot, gorgeous person, but he was a person. Breath.

"I drank with me da you see. Just me and him, winters by the fireplace nothing like it" Her breath hitched and caught when his fingers progressed toward her neck. Heart beating like a drum he would have heard it if not for the record being changed and the volume increased.

The Kinks new hit 'You Really Got me' flooded her senses.

Was the music playing tantalising tricks on her, it couldn't be any more perfect.

"Sounds nice" His fingers captured her shirt collar and pressed it flat, then as her heartrate spiked his fleeting touch graced her neck here and there, gingerly, with fleeting touches... like a record needle bouncing over tiny scratches.

Jackie caught herself before she leaned into him. Her body automatically drawn to him, like a force was pulling, or pushing her toward his presence. She bit her thumb to wake her journey "Hmmmm it was. I'll admit I got plastered a time or two but mostly I'll hold well...."

"Well I'll be watching you extremely closely tonight, just in case..." Paul watched her teeth graze her thumb and pulled himself up before he made a fool of himself in front of his mates. She was very lovely, and the way she applied her lips as she nibbled on that thumb was something he wanted to have tested on himself.... "Don't want a such pretty guest falling down the stairs face firs-"

"Hitler!"

"Shit!" Jackie shrank backwards instantly, wanting to cringe and hide in the furniture. Maybe she could shrink all the way back into the fabric and it could swallow her whole, make her disappear completely... but then she had second thoughts.

John hadn't scared her the first time, why should he now? And now he's started, just boomed it out across the room for all and sundry to hear. Jackie knocked the remains of the scotch back and retorted sharply "Really, just yell it out!"

Paul scooted back in surprise as John loomed and the little miss seethed and jumped to her feet.

"I can't believe you. We stopped signing photos and such in the mornings just for you and yet, here you are, ready to start again!" John made quick long strides across the room toward her. Like Moses parting the Red Sea most of the party goers slipped aside happily as John honed in on his target. They all revelled in a bit of hijinks... especially where Lennon was concerned.

But with a belly full of whisky she wouldn't back down, not now, not while he glared and steamed at her. Jackie was stood, up and ready for him, hands on hips, Paul, now forgotten, staring mildly stunned up at her. John didn't scare her one bit. No sir! Not when she had a dram or two of scotch in her belly...

'John" Cyn caught up and nudged John to stand down, walk away and stop causing a ruckus.

"I'm alright Cyn. Miss Hitler though..."

"I didn't come to rub it in John!"

"What's going on?" Pattie was now stood beside Jackie, who was squared off with John, jaw set firm and not minding one bit that he towered over her in leer and height.

"That's what I'd like to know- John why are you having a go at a guest" Paul gazed up, eyes darting between his mate and the lovely vision that had been under his fingers and spell moments before. Her eyes held a strength and knowing in them and even her hands, now fisted by her side, Paul could see she had a good and firm grasp of handling Johns temper.

None of this namby-pamby stuff like other females that fluttered about and shrank to tears. No, this girl was strong and gorgeous and fine.. mighty fine, with amazing legs, the sort that turned him on fast. When she smiled his world tilted and her smooth skin felt wonderful, like spun silk. Supple and ready for a lazy hand to slide over hungrily-

"Look at her Macca"

"I have been"

"Not like a love-struck puppy you fool. Look at her eyes, hell you were prattling on about them enough after she left... Forest Green this, Frog shit green that. It's bloody Hitler, can't you see that. Granted she has a nice set of pins showing tonight and the get up is sweet but imagine a nutsy mother blu-ing with me about her school fan-child and you might work it out! That is if you have any blood left in your brain, and it hasn't all settled in the wee south of Paul "

"John!" Cynthia admonished as she blushed an apology toward Jackie. Upset at how crude he was being to Paul in the poor girl's presence.

Jackie looked about and noticed what seemed like a thousand eyes settle on her... John, front and centre, still staring down at her. It was different here. John, and most everyone in the room, was ogling and Jackie was now lost in a sea of very recognisable yet strange faces.

As The Kinks led her on to Paul before, they told her off now. The track 'Too Much Monkey Business' blasting noisily as she pushed past John to escape, a winning grin quickly lighting up his face.

He wasn't all that bothered and truth be told it was rather a funny story all around- The nutso Hitler mum breaking into EMI to scold... what'd she call us, oh yeah, the princes.

Jackie barrelled through the bodies, pushing past all and sundry to find the exit. She didn't want a scene, although she had already created one. Please let me breath.

And for all her actions those few days ago, it was only for one outcome.

She had just wanted her daughter to go to school.

Her mind reeled with the thought of losing her job, losing Pattie. The way the four men would likely treat Beth the next time they saw her and Katie. The way they would be mean to her, pointing her out to the gathered crowd as the girl 'who's mum came barging in'.

And what Beth would do, when she heard what her mother had done to embarrass her... Because that is exactly what Beth would think of it. Embarrassment in front of her idols, in front of her darling John and his friends.

Dear God, what have I done.

Jackie tumbled down three flights of stairs, round and round, lower and lower. The dark timber panelled walls closing in on her. Muted lighting dulling the scene as she took a long-awaited gasp of air for only a sob to leap forth and escape.

Weary feet took her the rest of the way down the floors ever closer to reaching the ground.

The foyer was sparse and deserted.

She pushed the main door with force and fled outward, into the night.

Stars shining, frosty air constricting. Her legs instantly icicles. Her heart... numb.

Weary feet pounded her toward home, Hyde Park and beyond, miles it was but she couldn't seem to find her bag, couldn't seem to find her mind to stand and wait on the sidewalk for George and Pattie to emerge in the early hours.

And the undulating lawns stretched like a royal carpet before her, silvery and sharp and silence enveloped.

She needed more, more friendships, she shouldn't rely on always having Beth. For Beth was a fleeting moment in a long life. Beth would slip through her fingers before they had gotten round to doing all the things she wanted to do for her- with her, all the adventures that they should share. Like sand through an hourglass Jacqueline could see her moments as a mother slip away.

And what of the woman, where did she go. What rock had she forgotten herself under. Staring down upon herself she saw a dream, a person that, if she ever had the energy and pounds, should spring forth and exist. Find her own happiness and laughter and love, for Beth's will disappear. Of course, it will still exist, but the moments in the same room, city, perhaps even country, would grow ever fleeting and miniscule.

The whisky was nice, warm and heating her through, fortifying for this journey through the park and the footsteps beyond. The boots pinched, goose-bumps layering her skin, face streaked with mascara and tears completely destroyed with a hollow girl left beneath. Fingers and arms clutched, hugging herself to draw some heat within.

She was close.

The streets growing familiar, the shop names known, and she walked.

Walked toward emptiness, a house that was never home without Beth...

With flats of all descript and two up two down's appearing, the streets grew cluttered. Cars and vans parked throughout like a maze of metal, double parked in one case.

And the tiny gate stood closed waiting for her hand.

Key from under the geranium pot.

Freezing hand on the doorknob.

Key jiggling never turning in the lock.

"Jackie... Jacqueline"

She was dreaming.

She was asleep.

She was in another dimension because he wouldn't be in her reality, in her street, at her gate, in her tiny front yard.

He wouldn't touch her shoulder.

And he wouldn't be real.

Couldn't be real.

"Jack. Jacqueline. God you walked all that way" And still she couldn't move, even though her fingers shook as they clutched the doorknob. "Here let me"

A whirlwind of him, in all his glory pressed over her shoulder and turned the key.

Letting the door creep open, taking them both inside.

Extra- Info bout Johns wobbly time:

Bridgette Bardot : January 1964, during The Beatles' first concert tour in Paris, the lads sought to meet the woman of their dreams in person.

According to an American journalist named Michael Braun who befriended the group and accompanied them to France, a request to meet with Bardot was rejected because the actress was busy making a film in Brazil. Rather than the sultry actress, her representatives sent The Beatles a box of candy with a note that read: "Let's hope these sweets will make up for her."

However, a French photographer named Jean-Marie Perier claimed he arranged a meeting between all four Beatles and Bardot in late January or early February 1964 at the Hotel George V in Paris.

"I will always remember the moment I opened the door, the effect she [had] was amazing," he wrote. "The silence that followed was the most difficult to fill. The Beatles were sitting in a corner of the room. Paralyzed, they looked like a blanket... Meanwhile, timidly sitting at the other end, she [Bardot] examined them as if [they were on] a record sleeve."

Apparently, Perier failed to take a snapshot of this monumental assembly of superstars. Adding some doubt to his account.