The next morning, Connie woke up alone, the other half of the bed cold and empty of George's presence. Back home she was normally the one who woke up first, leaving her husband to have a lie in since he was always so exhausted from working long hours in the studio, except now they weren't back home, they were in India, and she knew he would have gotten up early to go and meditate. That was a good thing though, since the whole point of the trip was meant to be them finding their spirituality and inner peace or something along those lines, she just wished he'd waited in bed a little longer, finding herself craving his warm embrace.

Instead though, she was alone, and so Connie sat up in bed, her head still spinning with jetlag. She never usually suffered from it too badly, and she thought she'd walked it off the day before in town with the girls, but clearly not as her whole body felt exhausted and she still felt ever so slightly queasy. Part of her wanted to lay back down feeling sorry for herself and try and go back to sleep, but she didn't see the point. In the years that followed her moving in with George she always struggled to sleep without him, and that morning didn't seem like it would be an exception to the norm. So, with a small sigh Connie pulled herself out of bed and began to get ready for the day.

After combing her hair and tying it back into two braids, Connie changed into another Indian outfit, this one being a long white dress with the same green sari as the day before, slipping on a a pair of sandals. Once she was ready, she began to make her way out of the bungalow, and though she wasn't really sure what time it was, the noise of laughter and acoustic guitars from the other side of the clearing where there was a table set out told her it wasn't as early as she thought it was. In fact, as she crossed the clearing she could tell the rest of her group had gathered for breakfast, and instantly she began to worry that she'd missed out on something, especially as she heard them all laughing.

It was a stupid worry, and that was something she realised when she got close enough to see there was still food on the table and the lads were all still sat around the table talking, except for Paul who'd pushed his chair out slightly, his guitar on his knee as he played something Connie hadn't heard before. The girls were sat at a smaller table next to the main one, and upon seeing Florence sat with them, Connie's instincts told her to go and sit with them, until she spotted the empty seat next to George. She made a beeline for it, only being noticed by her husband as she got close enough, putting her hand on his shoulder as she took the seat next to him.

"Morning, love," George greeted her, taking hold of her hand and giving it a squeeze, his attention immediately switching from whatever John had been saying to her, an apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry, I was gonna was gonna wake you but you looked really peaceful so I thought I'd just leave you,"

"It's okay," she told him truthfully, smiling back at him as she helped herself to the piece of toast on his plate. "I didn't realise how knackered I was,"

"Oh, aye, just tell everyone the ins and outs of your sex life, Con," John groaned, interpreting what she'd said completely wrong as he let out a cackle of a laugh, not noticing the way his words made George cringe and Connie tense her fist out of nerves.

"Bugger off, John," Connie muttered, the curse coming out much more bitter than she meant it to, so after noticing the way John raised his eyebrows questioningly at her she let out a short, shaky laugh. "You know I get bad jetlag,"

"Do I?" he teased again, still thinking he was embarrassing her rather than hitting a touchy subject.

"She gets bad jetlag," George cut in quickly, finality to his tone, avoiding eye contact with them all as he stared at the table instead.

Connie was staring down at the table too, knowing that if they were alone the two of them would probably be trying desperately to change the subject unless they were feeling unusually open with each other that day to actually talk about their emotions. It was stupid that they were married and there was still so much unsaid between them, but it was as if they'd both reached a silent agreement that somethings they just didn't talk about to save each other from the pain. If they didn't talk about it with each other, they certainly didn't talk about it with their friends, so how was John to know his joke was insensitive and touched on a difficult subject for them both? Both of them knew that, but it didn't stop either of them resenting it.

Desperate to change the conversation, Connie quickly looked up from the table, her gaze landing on Paul. He was still fiddling about with his guitar, trying out different chords as his eyebrows creased together in concentration, and Connie had spent plenty of time with him as a teenager to know that he was stuck over song lyrics.

"What you writing, Paulie?" she called, feeling George let out a silent sigh of relief as she turned all focus away from them.

"I dunno, Lennie, just playing about really," he shrugged, plucking one of the strings dramatically before playing the chord sequence again.

"It's a catchy tune though," she said with a small smile, thinking of all the mornings on Forthlin Road where she'd be woken up to him playing the guitar and singing.

The conversation moved on, the lads bantering among each other and Connie laughing along, savouring the moment of inclusivity, feeling like she was in the group again. Hopefully the way she felt, like she was with her mates and not like she was with her husband's band, would be something improved over the trip. It was only their second full day in the ashram, and Connie could already feel her spirits lifting, something she could only hope would continue.

It was only a short moment, because soon everyone drifted their own way to go and meditate. The girls all went first, the lads following them shortly after until the only two left were Connie and George, the two of them sat in peaceful silence. To say George was the Beatle who was the most dedicated to meditation and spiritualism, Connie felt like she was on the edge of her seat, waiting for him to leave too. She was surprised he wasn't the first to go off on his own to meditate, instead staying with her, holding her hand as if waiting for the right moment to say something.

He didn't need to though. It was nice just to be sat with him, even if John's joke was still playing in both of their minds. Neither of them had to say anything, but they could tell that both of them were bothered about how their friends clearly thought everything was still normal between the two of them, and not this new, awkward state of normal that both Connie and George had gotten used to in their relationship through the last few months. She wasn't surprised though, because if George was sometimes unaware of how she felt, George, her husband who knew her inside and out, she couldn't really expect anyone else to notice anything. Connie wished she could've been more open about what had been bothering her with her friends, knowing things would be so different if she was, but if she could barely talk to George, how could she talk to others?

After a while, Connie heard George let out a sigh, and he shifted him his seat, taking his hand out of hers as he instead wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a tight embrace. She sighed too, relaxing into his hold as he pushed a short kiss to the top of her head.

"I'm sorry about what John said, love," George said gently, his voice sounding strained as if he really didn't want to bring it up but knew he had to.

"It's fine, how's he supposed to know what's going on if we don't talk about it?" she shrugged, shifting her position so she could look at him, offering him a sad smile. "Maybe we should talk about it at some point though, y'know, you and me? I don't want to constantly feel like we're avoiding something,"

"Yeah," he nodded, and Connie could see in his eyes that he really didn't want to talk about it, especially when he squeezed her shoulder.

"Not now though, not if you don't want to," she told him, moving out of his hold to face him properly, trying to support how he was feeling by leaning over and kissing his cheek gently. "Why don't you go and meditate, and we'll talk about it later, or whenever you're ready?"

"Alright," he nodded, kissing her before getting out of his seat, dropping her hands. "I love you,"

Connie didn't reply, and she didn't watch him go. Instead she waited until she'd heard his footsteps fade before propping her elbows up on the table, letting her head fall into her hands. As much as she hated it, the last few months played through her mind, and she found herself full of regret for how she conducted herself throughout it all. She wanted to talk to George about it all, but he clearly didn't want to, not that she blamed him. Just thinking about it all made her feel queasy again, and she needed to go and meditate to get rid of all the thoughts bothering her.

Except just as she was about to get up and head off somewhere private, she heard another set of footsteps.

"Well that looked a shambles," Florence's voice came from behind, and as soon as Connie turned to face her, she saw her childhood best friend stood with her arms crossed, looking as if she was awaiting an explanation.

"I thought you'd gone," Connie shrugged, turning back around, her hand still propping up her chin as she rolled her eyes. "It's rude to eavesdrop, y'know,"

"Yeah, I know, and I did go, but I came back to try and find you and accidentally walked in on that shit show," Florence explained, still looking at Connie with a questioning expression. "So are you going to tell me what's going on or do I have to try and guess just from the awkward silences?"

"Oh, bugger off," Connie muttered, getting up from her seat because as much as she wanted to talk about it she hated being questioned.

She was about to head off into the line of trees surrounding the clearing to find somewhere peaceful to meditate, until Florence ran after her, grabbing her arm and stopping her from going any further. When Connie dared to look at her friend with a sigh, she saw Florence looking at her worriedly, but also expectantly, like she was waiting for Connie to confess whatever was bothering her. The way she was looking reminded her an awful lot of the time she went back to Liverpool for work just before she and George got together properly. She had been so anxious about the whole situation, madly in love but yet full of worries that she'd messed it all up by refusing to go to America with the Beatles. Seeing Florence look at her like that took her back in time, but also made her realise that things hadn't changed that much in the four years that had passed. She was still madly in love with George, but still the two of them were awful at communicating with each other.

Connie remembered the day she went back to Liverpool, and how good it felt to vent to Florence about everything that had gone on between her and George in the weeks before. She remembered how Florence talked at her about everything until things became a little clearer. Compared to what was going on with her and George now, Connie couldn't help but think the rocky road to her relationship was rather smooth, and if talking to Florence had helped then, surely it would now too.

"Right, come on, we'll find somewhere proper to talk," Connie sighed, leading Florence off towards the trees that led to the river bank. "I don't want anyone else overhearing,"

Florence didn't say anything back, letting Connie lead her to somewhere private. The two of them stopped by the river, and with a sigh Connie moved to sit cross-legged on the grass, Florence sitting across from her. Connie was avoiding eye contact, staring down at the grass, her hands tensing into fists out of nerves, and upon Florence seeing that gesture she felt like she was back with fourteen year old Connie, fierce and fiery yet so insecure. She might have matured and grown up in the years since, but she was still the same girl.

"What's going on, Con?" she asked, encouraging her to talk.

"Look, the lads don't know any of this, I haven't told Cill or Ruby, so congrats to you for being the first to know all this shit," Connie began, flashing a sarcastic smile to hide her emotions. "I don't even know where to start..."

"At the beginning," Florence suggested, making Connie let out a long sigh.

"It was the last time we were in India, right? Just me and George, having the time of our lives," she explained, fighting the lump in her throat. "We were laid under a tree together watching the birds and it was so peaceful, it like we were on our honeymoon again, and then George just said that they were done touring for good. I knew already, they'd been going on about it for ages and I'd written articles about their last gig, but when George said that to me, it just made me think... I said to him without even thinking 'well if you're gonna be home more why don't we start a family?'"

"What, kids?" Florence exclaimed in shock, her voice still low to stop anyone overhearing. "Seriously? You?"

"Yeah, I know, exactly," Connie nodded, continuing. "I'm not the most maternal at all, am I? Gee and I had talked about it before, and I'd said we'd wait until we were more settled, and I didn't want to give up working for kids just yet, so we agreed to just leave it for a while. But then when we were in India, I thought... I love him so much, Florie, and I just really, really wanted a family with him. In all the Beatlemania madness, I thought it'd be something that was for just us. Our relationship was hardly our own since we were always on front pages and in the news, and us having a family could be something that was ours, and even though I'd just said it on a whim, I realised I actually did really want to have a child with him.

"I knew he wanted it too. He got all serious and excited, y'know how he gets sometimes. I thought he'd want to wait a little bit longer or to talk about it properly, but he agreed straight away. We waited until we got home from India and then we started trying properly. I stopped drinking and smoking, stopped any drugs stuff too which made some parties a bit awkward when everyone else was tripping out of their minds on acid and I was just sat there sober. We thought it'd happen really quick, like it did for pretty much everyone we knew. We thought, back from India in October, try for a few weeks and I'd be pregnant by Christmas, but it didn't happen.

"We didn't know why. I've never been on the pill and we were doing everything right, yet nothing was happening. We kept going well into the new year, and there were a few times I thought that I was pregnant. I went to the doctors a couple of times, I had to go on my own if George was in the studio and I went in under a fake name but every test they did came back negative, and when I asked what else we could do to get things going the doctor just said that we needed to be patient. I felt like such a failure, we were both exhausted, and I could tell it was getting George down but we didn't want to talk about it cause we didn't want to be pessimistic,"

"Did anyone know?" Florence asked, interrupting when Connie paused, and though she didn't look up she knew her friend was watching her with sympathy.

"No, we just kept it to ourselves," she shook her head, forcing back her feelings again. "We wanted to surprise people, but that was when we thought it'd be easy. I think George mentioned to Brian one day in the studio that we were trying. I didn't mind cause I knew he was just as frustrated with everything as I was and if he was gonna tell anyone I was glad it was Brian because he'd always been really supportive to us, but a few weeks later he died and we were all a wreck. After Brian died the boys were all a mess, until Paul came up with this idea of making a film all themselves, but he wanted me to help them cause he knew I'd always wanted to write a film, so I took a couple of weeks off from the magazine and went on set with them for Mystery Tour,"

"Oh, yeah," Florence nodded, biting her lip to hold back a laugh as she thought about the Magical Mystery Tour film. Connie noticed and let out her own short laugh. "I forgot you worked on that with them,"

"All I did was write it, all the ideas were theirs so you can't blame me for any of that madness," Connie laughed before becoming serious again. "I thought it'd be great because it was the first time in months I'd get to hang out with the lads just on our own. Since Gee and I got married I started feeling a little forgotten with them, less like I was one of them and more like I was just one of the wives, but with everything else going off I didn't want to mention it to George so I just got on with it. I thought the film would be a great opportunity, but honestly I don't know how I didn't strangle them all after the second day. They were so infuriating to work with, Paul would ring me up in the middle of the night with new ideas he'd just dreamt up and every time I'd write something John would tell me it was shit, and with everything going on between me and George it was the last thing either of us needed.

"We got through it, and I'm glad I worked on the film even if it did age me by about ten years. On the last day of shooting though, I realised my period was late, and I mean late-late. I told George and we decided to go straight to the doctors after filming was done. We were meant to be going to John's after to celebrate, but both of us were too excited, thinking that we'd finally done it and we were finally gonna be parents. It was the first time George came to the doctors with me, he put on a disguise, I gave them my usual fake name Constance Jones, and the two of us couldn't stop grinning. We did all the tests and stuff and the doctor left us in his room while he got the results, and George held my hand the entire time we waited, telling me he loved me and that we were gonna be the best parents, and then the doctor came back and told us it was negative. It was my ninth time going to get tested, and we'd been trying just over a year, so the doctor basically said if it hadn't happened by now maybe it was unlikely it ever would,"

Connie felt her chest tighten a little, her throat stinging as she tried to fight away tears, but after saying the last few words she found the fight so much harder. She didn't want to break down, feeling ridiculous because so many other people had it so much worse, and saying it all out loud for the first time ever made her feel like she'd made a big deal of nothing. Except as she felt Florence move to pull her into a tight hug, she choked out a small sob, and couldn't hold back tears any longer.

Connie hated crying. It wasn't her, but now there didn't seem to be anything else she could do to channel her emotions. Before, she used to deal with her emotions in a completely different way, like when her mother died and her grief embodied itself in fury. Part of her wished she could turn her pain into anger, but she knew there was no real bravery in making fighting and rage her coping mechanism. It had been a destructive way of expressing her feelings, she'd grown up enough to realise that, but sometimes she still felt like that scared girl, which just made crying even harder because it didn't feel like her way of dealing with things. That was how much the whole thing had affected her, bringing her to the point where she couldn't even openly acknowledge her reaction to the situation without feeling ridiculous, feeling like she'd strayed so far away from everything that had made her who she was.

"Con, it's okay," she whispered, holding her tightly, stroking her hair in an attempt of reassurance.

It wasn't okay though. In all her life she'd never failed at anything. She passed all her O-Levels, she got her job at the Cavern after only a five minute interview, she was a writer for one of the best pop culture magazines of their generation, she'd married the love of her life. All her life Connie had succeeded in things, but the one thing she wanted the most she had failed to get, except she'd not just failed herself. She'd failed George too, and that just made the whole situation so much worse.

"You don't have to say anything else," Florence told her, but Connie shook her head, pulling out of her hug as she wiped her tears.

"No, no I want to, I'm not done," she said determinedly, sitting back up properly, taking a few deep breaths to try and stop crying. "I could tell George was trying to stay really positive, talking to the doctor about everything. The doctor hadn't said never, just that it was really unlikely, and while that just seemed to encourage George, it was enough for me. I was tired, I was fed up of being disappointed. I knew George would be the best dad, but I was just sick of failing him. He was still being optimistic though, and when he was driving us home he just said 'we'll try again'. He was so positive and even though I knew he was upset too I just couldn't understand why he was so determined to carry on even though it'd just put us through even more disappointment,"

Connie flinched, remembering how she had lost it with him, the way she fully broke down. He'd stayed so calm, probably knowing at least one of them had to, and when he parked up at home he just sat and let her cry and scream about it all. In all their years as friends and as a couple she'd never cried like that in front of him, and it was painful for her to remember how she'd told him she was done, that she never wanted to try again because she never wanted to disappoint either of them again. He'd just sat there, his seatbelt still on, his face deadpan, and looking back Connie knew he was only acting so emotionless because at least one of them needed to keep a level head about the situation. She didn't realise that at the time, far too suffocated with her own pain to understand his coping mechanism, and so after yelling at him one last time that they were done trying, she stormed out of the car and into the house where she hid in their bedroom under the sheets sobbing.

In all their years, Connie had never once shouted at George. They'd had disagreements, minor spats, but she'd never shouted at him. Deep down she knew he didn't deserve her going off like that, but she wasn't thinking straight, too caught up in everything. He'd not known how to respond, just sitting there, and when he eventually came into the house he didn't bother her. He just left her to have her space, knowing that if he went to try and comfort her he would only make things worse. The two didn't see each other until the next day when Connie reappeared for lunch. She was meant to be back at work that day and he was meant to be in the studio, but they'd both rang in sick, and upon Connie seeing George she fell into his arms and started crying all over again.

He hugged her and held her whilst she cried, and when she was done she told him that she loved him. That was the last time either of them overtly mentioned trying for a family, George not wanting to cause her such pain again and Connie deciding she was done. She still loved George with all her heart, but she had to come to terms with the fact that there would probably be nothing more to their marriage. It would just be the two of them, and that was okay. A lot of couples didn't have kids, but pretty much all of their friends did. Ringo and John both had sons with their wives, and Connie and George silently knew that they were jealous of their friends. It hurt to see people they were close to have what they wanted and had tried so desperately to get, but neither of them could face up to having that conversation, so they left it. They just didn't talk about kids, not to each other or anyone else.

Maybe if they'd been better at discussing their emotions they would have been able to move on easier. They might have even been able to start trying again, but any time Connie considered it she froze, and any thoughts of intimacy made her want to shut down. They'd only been intimate together once since they found out children were unlikely, and that had been the first time Connie had been drunk in years, so drunk she forgot about everything for the briefest of moments to allow herself to be with her husband again, but once she'd sobered up she regretted it and didn't even want to think about it again. George knew better than to bring any of it up to her, not sure how to help her. In public they acted like normal, and for most of the time in private they just got on with things. Except for the lack of sex things felt pretty much normal, until big reminders occurred, like when George accidentally caught her crying after she came home from spending the day with Julian, or when Connie saw George with his head in his hands after coming off the phone with his parents. They avoided the topic of kids wherever possible, which was jarring given they'd spent so long focusing on nothing else.

"I can't believe you haven't told anyone," Florence said, leaning over and hugging her again, and Connie was suddenly really glad she'd brought her friend with her to India because there was no one else she could imagine telling all of that to. "Con, it's not healthy to keep all of that bottled up, not for yourself and not for your marriage,"

"I know," she nodded, staring down at the grass again. "I just didn't want anyone else to know. I'd spent long enough failing me and George, I didn't want anyone else to think I was a disappointment either,"

"Bloody hell, Connie, in no way are you a disappointment!" Florence told her firmly, which was exactly what she needed. She didn't need sympathy and she didn't need people feeling sorry for her, and Florence had known her long enough to know she was far too proud for either of those things. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, but you can't let it get between you and George. If you don't talk about it how are you gonna help each other and move on properly?"

"I don't want to hurt him by bringing it up," she said, grimacing as she considered it. "I still love him, I love him so much, but I know how much he wants a proper family and what if I can't give him that?"

"Well you'll never know how he feels unless you talk to him properly, will you?" Florence replied quickly, making Connie sigh because she knew she was talking perfect sense. "The doctor didn't say never, did he? And if it doesn't happen, then you talk to each other. George loves you, Con, I've never seen anyone look at anything the way he looks at you, surely he loves you more than he could ever love a hypothetical family?"

Connie nodded, but she didn't feel like saying anything else. She knew Florence had a point, but she didn't want to say anything back. Even if it had brought all of the emotions back it felt good to have talked it all through with someone, like a weight had been lifted off her chest. Hearing someone else's perspective, someone who cared about both of them without being a party in the relationship, was a relief, feeling like her emotions were validated and her struggle was known. Someone other than her husband knew, it was no longer just their burden to bare. The whole point of being in India was to find some sort of peace within themselves, and Connie couldn't help but feel like she was getting a little closer to that after just talking about what they'd been through.

She knew she wouldn't feel fully relieved until she spoke to George, but for now that could wait. She was done thinking about it for that day, taking in a few deep breaths as she turned to face Florence properly. She wiped under her eyes with her thumb making sure all of her tears were gone completely until she offered her friend a grateful smile.

"Thanks for letting me talk," she said, trying to sound casual and not at all like her entire being was relieved for just speaking, desperate to change the conversation. "Now, come on. It's your turn,"

"What you going on about?" Florence asked, her eyes narrowed and her eyebrows creased together.

"I told you all my stuff, now I wanna know what's going on with you," Connie explained. "What happened between you and Rory Storm that made you turn up on my doorstep at midnight in tears?"

"Well I was actually planning on going to Cilla's but she wasn't answering," Florence replied, trying to sound flippant and dismiss her own emotions, but as Connie looked at her with a raised eyebrow she sighed. "I broke up with Rory, alright? We're not like you and George, y'know, we actually talk about things, no offence,"

"None taken," Connie shrugged, knowing if they did communicate with each other properly they probably wouldn't be stuck in such an awkward rut, but the conversation wasn't about her and George now. "So you talk about things and you realise that you don't actually like each other anymore?"

"Not exactly," Florence said with a sigh, biting the inside of her lip. "We loved each other, but we just wanted really different things. After I designed your wedding dress and you mentioned me and the shop in the interviews you did, business was booming. I got offers for work from actual design houses, places that wanted to hire me as a designer, posh places in London that meant I could move down and be closer to you and Cill again since you both moved. I love the shop, but I don't want to spend the rest of my life working in a boutique down Penny Lane for the rest of my life with my only triumph being that I designed Connie Lennon's wedding dress. I wanted to make something of myself like all my friends have done. You write, Cilla sings and now she's on telly, I could be a designer, but I turned down the offers to stay with Rory, because his worst nightmare would be leaving Liverpool. He's happy being the King of Liverpool, but sticking with him pretending I was satisfied in my job just wasn't something I was happy with,"

"So you broke up with him?" Connie asked, feeling a little impressed. "I mean, good for you if you felt held back,"

"Yeah, except when you've been with someone since you were barely eighteen and now you're in your late twenties it stings a lot," Florence continued, her tone dry and serious, like she was still holding back how she felt. "You forget what it's like to be on your own after you've been with someone for so long, and I'd been with Rory for a long time. I loved him, but I want more for my life than to just be loved,"

"I get that," Connie nodded reassuringly, reaching over and patting her shoulder supportively. "You've done the right thing, Florie, no matter how much it hurts.  I know how hard it is to be caught between a career dream and having to leave everything you know behind. You both want different things, and I'm proud of you that you that you stood your ground,"

The two of them sat in silence for a while, savouring each other's company and the flowing sound of the river beside them. It was peaceful, and it was nice for both of them to just sit and take in the scenery after laying all their inner secrets out bare. For Connie, to know the truth about her friend after wondering for a while and to tell everything that had been happening to her felt as if she had found some sense of peace within herself, peace that she hadn't known since the last time she was in India before the longing for a family had started.

Of course, the peace she felt would only be complete once she'd talked to George, because as much as it world hurt, they couldn't carry on living with the strain they had put themselves under.

***
Word count: 5925

***