December 1965

In the living room of Connie's childhood home on Forthlin Road, the Christmas decorations were sparce, but the room seemed more alive than it had done in years as she came into the room carrying a large plate of eggy bread to see the Beatles laid out on the floor watching some old Christmas film on the tiny television.

She set the plate down on the side table in front of the sofa, though the food went unnoticed by the men as they were all far too engrossed in whatever they were watching. Rolling her eyes, she flopped down onto the sofa and helped herself to a slice, and as much as she really wanted to wait and see how long it took for them to notice the food, she knew they'd all resent her for it, so she lent over and gently nudged George's back with her foot. Her boyfriend - or, fiancé, as she kept reminding herself with a smug smirk - turned round to face her with a small smile, only to notice the food with wide eyes and a grin. The rest of them followed, Paul, John and Ringo spinning round, and as they all grabbed their slice, the late now becoming a free for all, George hopped up onto the sofa next to Connie, kissing her cheek before he took a bite.

"Oi, we're eating, don't make me sick," John groaned, Paul and Ringo rolling their eyes in a mixture of agreement and annoyance towards John.

"You're funny," Connie muttered, pulling a face to her cousin which he mirrored. "What's on?"

"Dunno, it's just finished," Paul shrugged as the credits began to role.

They all looked back to the television, continuing to eat, and Connie couldn't help but think how glad she was that they were all there together back in Liverpool, back where she knew they would always belong. They'd only been home in London for a few days before Brian told them he'd been asked if they'd play a concert at the Empire theatre to celebrate New Year. At first they'd all opposed, John had even been complaining about it on Christmas Day when Connie and George went over to celebrate with the Lennon's, but they'd all come round to the idea eventually. They'd only have to be in Liverpool for a couple of nights so Paul, John and Ringo left their wives and girlfriend's behind whilst Connie managed a deal with Brian and the magazine to write a review of the concert, and though the lads all went off to their own homes, they'd spent the majority of their time at Connie's house.

The concert was perfect timing for Connie, because even though she'd been overjoyed with George's proposal the thought that they'd gone for a surprise gig in Liverpool without her annoyed her because she loved any excuse to go home. Even if Beatlemania was far worse in their home city and there was always a crowd outside her and Paul's houses, there was still something special about going home now she didn't have to worry about the painful homesickness she used to suffer from. The trip home also provided her with the perfect opportunity to do some wedding planning, specifically picking out a dress. She'd made her peace with not getting married in Liverpool, but she'd be damned if she wasn't getting her dress from Florence's shop on Penny Lane.

They'd practically finished eating when the television began to play the next film, one that was overly familiar to all of them as the screen turned black and white and began to play out the opening notes of A Hard Day's Night. The four boys let out bored groans whilst Connie laughed, watching the screen eagerly to see the opening scene of them running down the street followed by their avid fans, and as she saw George fall and trip Ringo, she screamed out a laugh that made George roll his eyes as he cuddled up close to her, wrapping his arm around her waist.

"We're not watching this shit," John muttered, but none of them could be bothered to get up and change the channel.

"If only we were Elvis and had a telly remote," Paul noted, making Connie sigh.

"Alright, rub it in that you lot met the king," she shook her head in annoyance, putting her hand on top of George's as it rested on her waist. "I kept saying to Dad I'd buy him a new telly if he wanted but he said I'd be wasting my money, he's stubborn like that then it's us who have to suffer,"

"Stubborn, makes sense," George joked, giving her a joking look, though she merely rolled her eyes, used to him teasing her. He let out a small laugh before glancing up to the small clock on the mantel. "What time you going to the shop?"

Connie followed his gaze, looking at the clock and cursing when she saw the time. Realising she'd be late if she didn't get going soon, she pushed a kiss to George's cheek and went to get up to leave, forgetting that George still had his arm around her waist. She didn't get far, not as he pulled her back down with a teasing grin, pushing a kiss to her lips, much to the annoyance of the other Beatles who'd gotten bored of watching themselves on the television only to see the soon-to-be married couple in a rather sweet scene.

"Put her down, George, Christ!" John called, bored of the two of them still kissing each other at whatever opportunity they got, as if they were still making up for their past.

"You should've tried living with them," Ringo muttered with a shrug.

Connie was used to them all teasing her and George mercilessly, but she knew there was no malice in it, knowing that their friends were happy for them and mocking them was just their way of showing it. Even so, as she finally freed herself from George's grip and got up from the sofa, she leaned over and clipped both John and Ringo gently round the back of their heads. She crossed the room and went to the window where both the blinds and the curtains were drawn, making sure they all got their privacy. Connie's father had told her he kept them shut most of the time, which made her feel a little sad knowing that her dad had to shut himself in the house because of the Beatles' stardom, though that day they were shut with good reason. As she carefully pulled her curtain back slightly, nudging the blind open, she saw both houses were still surrounded by teenage girls, some of whom were holding signs professing their love, some of whom were singing or crying hysterically. Thankfully none of them noticed the flick of the curtains and blinds as Connie let them fall closed as she scowled.

"For fuck's sake," she muttered, folding her arms across her chest as she went into the hall to grab her boots, coat and old Everton scarf, storming back into the living room to see all four Beatles were looking at her expectantly. "Do none of them have anything better to do? It's fucking Christmas week!"

"Con, I think you're the only person who views the week between Christmas and New Year as sacred," George reminded her, knowing how much she loved the dead time between the festive period. "How many are out there?"

"So many," sighed as she wrapped her scarf around her neck as she stood by the mirror on the fireplace mantel, trying to see how best to style it to disguise herself. "One of them has a sign that says 'marry me, George Harrison,'"

"Bit late for that one," Paul grinned teasingly as John and Ringo laughed hysterically, George just looking a little annoyed. "You gonna go give her your engagement ring then, Lennie?"

"If there's that many people outside you shouldn't leave," George told her, getting up from the sofa and putting his hands on her shoulders. "It's dangerous,"

"I know, but Florence is shutting the shop off for the rest of the afternoon and she's driving round to pick me up," she said, hoping to sound a little reassuring that she wasn't about to get mauled by the fanatics outside. "Plus if I don't go, I'll have nothing to wear for the wedding,"

"Bet he'd love that," Paul spoke up with a wink, making John lean over and grab a cushion off the sofa, whacking him over the head with it.

"Don't be disgusting, that's my little sis- cousin!" John shouted with a glare, though he broke down laughing, unable to stay serious.

"What're you gonna do to get out then, Con?" Ringo asked with a small frown, turning the conversation back onto what really mattered.

"Well, I'm gonna go through into Paul's garden then hop over the wall into next door, there's another alley I can sneak out of," she shrugged, knowing that even that probably wouldn't work but if she said it with enough confidence they'd believe she'd get away with it. "You know you can all stay here for as long as you want but I'm going straight from the shop to the Empire so I'll see you at the show, make sure you lock up, cause after the last time you were all round Dad said a group of girls tried to sneak in to nick some records in the hopes that you'll all have touched them,"

"Just be careful," George said, rolling his eyes at the extent of their fans, as she turned around to face him, kissing her cheek goodbye. "I love you,"

"I know, right back at you, Gee," she grinned at him before she turned to the rest of the lads. "Don't get mobbed, and break a leg,"

***

"So, I picked out a bunch of the dresses that seemed to fit in with what you wre telling me about over the phone, and I've got sketches of dresss for you to look at in case you don't like any of them, and if all else fails I think there's still time to..." Florence explained as she drew the blinds of the shop windows, locking the door in case anyone tried to disturb them.

"I'm not gonna make you design and sew a whole new dress specially for me, there's only about two weeks 'till the wedding," Connie laughed, heading over to the rack of dresses Florence had pulled out for her. "Plus you know what I'm like,"

"Yeah, wouldn't surprise me if you got married in a pair of jeans and one of John's old shirts," her friend rolled her eyes, practically shuddering at the thought. "Except your wedding pictures are probably going to be on the front page of every newspaper across the world, and I won't let you look like a teddy boy,"

"Okay, you sound like Ruby now," Connie rolled her eyes, picking a dress off the rail, only to put it straight back when she saw how long its train was.

Connie hadn't realised how stressful it would be picking out her wedding dress. Ruby had been sneakily bringing wedding magazines into work ever since she'd told her she and George were going to get married, and even though they'd spent hours circling the dresses that she liked, Connie now felt lost. She was glad she had Florence to help her considering she was a great designer and seamstress, but she missed the rest of her friends who were all still down south. She wasn't the best shopper, and that became clear as the hours ticked by and the rejection pile of dresses seemed to grow bigger.

This was the one thing she really had to do for herself for the wedding, considering Brian had sorted everything else out, and part of Connie felt like a failure for being so critical over each dress she tried on. She'd not cared so much about what she wore since that newspaper wrote that she dressed old-fashioned, and even though she still didn't really care about fashion the pressure of the occasion had finally gotten to her. Nothing she tried on felt right, and every time she stepped out of the changing room to show Florence what each dress looked like she wanted to laugh as she caught her reflection. None of them looked right on her, and she felt ridiculous.

"What do you think George would like?" Connie called defeatedly from the changing room as she took off yet another dress.

"You tell me, he's your boyfriend," Florence called back. "But from experience, I don't think he'll really mind. Every other woman I've sold a wedding dress to said that their partner's didn't care about their dress,"

"Well I want George to care!" she called, frustrated. "I want to wear something that'll make him think, 'yeah, I'm bloody glad I'm marrying that,'"

"'That'," Florence laughed, making Connie scowl as she popped her middle finger through the curtain of the changing room. "Come on, Con, you gotta value yourself a bit more. Do you honestly think that you could possibly pick out a dress that'd make George - George, of all people - regret asking you to marry him? I mean, the poor lad's been obsessed with you since you were like fifteen," 

Connie sighed, realising that her inability to find a dress she liked was stemmed in her nerves for getting married. The two of them were still in their very early twenties, and she didn't want to ever feel like there was someone better out there for George, which was hard considering their work schedules meant they spent time apart and he was constantly meeting celebrities and models. It wasn't just George either, because Connie knew that no matter what happened she'd always be under the scrutiny of the press and the fans, and even if the latter were occasionally supportive of her, the press always seemed to have it in for her.

They'd not yet announced their engagement. It had been Brian's idea to do a press meeting the day before the wedding to try and avoid attention on the actual day, but everyone knew that it was wishful thinking. Whatever happened Connie knew that they'd be in every newspaper, and there would be several who'd write unflattering things about her, just like that one had done the year before. It was hard trying to find a dress for the biggest day of her life, knowing someone would probably write horrible things about it just to spite her because they thought a formerly working class northern girl should have nothing to do with a world-famous Rockstar.

Except he wasn't a Rockstar. He was George, and as Connie fiddled with the silver locket around her neck, she glanced down at the ring on her left hand. She'd moved it temporarily over to her middle finger, just in case anyone spotted it and put two-and-two together, but even so it made her think about George, and how he'd looked when he'd given it to her. Every day since he'd proposed he'd take hold of her hand just to look at the ring on it, as if he couldn't quite believe it was there and they were going to get married, and she wondered if he was just as nervous about it all. She decided she'd ask him that night, but knew that he loved her. Surely he did, he'd asked her to marry him after all, and he was the only one who mattered. If she just focused on that, and not on everything else that didn't really matter, things might not feel so overwhelming.

Connie quickly wrapped a robe around herself and stepped out of the changing room, holding a dress out to Florence, who hung it back up with the rest of her rejections. They were all nice dresses, just not for her. Maybe she wasn't the sort of person who'd suit bridal fashion, but her childhood friend clearly didn't share that thought, not as she narrowed her eyes, going over to another rail of dresses at the back of the store, ones they'd both previously ignored.

"Look, maybe we're just looking at the wrong stuff," Florence called with a small sigh. "You said long with sleeves, maybe we should look at the opposite?"

"What, short and sleeveless?" Connie frowned. "It's gonna be January, Florie,"

"Yeah, I know, but you could wear a coat, and..." she said with a shrug, drifting off as she flicked through the dresses, only to grin and let out a cheer as she pulled one of the rail. "This one is perfect,"

Florence came running back to her, holding out the dress triumphantly, and though Connie wanted to be pessimistic and say it wasn't what she was looking for, one look at the dress told her to shut up. A grin of her own quickly appeared as she took hold of the dress from her friend, holding it out to examine it. It certainly wasn't what she went into the shop looking for, but she still ran back to the changing room in a new fit of excitement.

It was short, coming to just above her knee, but it flared out at her hips in an A-line cut, the sort of style that had been fashionable in the fifties, the sort of style Connie still loved. It's lacy top featured only two little straps that went across her shoulders, leaving the dress mostly sleeveless and her arms bare, but as soon as Connie tried it on and stepped out of the changing room she forgot entirely about the fact it was a winter wedding. As soon as she saw her reflection and Florence's pleased grin, she knew that it was the one, suiting her perfectly, and she couldn't help but imagine wearing it to the registry office, standing at George's side.

***

A car had been sent to the dress shop to pick Connie up, but by the time she had to leave to go to the concert, the shop was surrounded by press, eager to get a picture of her, and fans, desperate to talk to her about the lads. She'd grown used to the whole ordeal of never really getting to go anywhere alone, though it still felt completely bizarre that it was all because her best mates were world famous. Even so, she'd learnt to be polite, shouting greetings at the fans and trying not to seem annoyed when press men called invasive questions to her, but by the time she got to the car and the driver locked the doors and began to drive off, she couldn't help but sigh with relief.

Beatlemania was insane, but it always felt weirder in Liverpool. She'd been used to seeing girls go mad for the boys in the Cavern, but it was the sense of belonging she felt in Liverpool that made it so odd to feel the overwhelming love that the city had for the boys, a love that extended to her and the other girls. It was strange to think that the older fans that had just surrounded her or the ones who were going to be in the audience that night were probably in school with them all, or that she might have served them when she used to work in the Cavern. Some of them might have recognised her, not as George's girl or John's cousin the way she was constantly portrayed in the media, but as herself, the girl she used to be before she moved to London and started courting George. They probably thought of her still as the ruffian who'd break noses without a second thought, and that amused her to no end. There was something special about the scouse fans to Connie, because she felt like they knew the Beatles and the people associated with them better than anyone.

The crowd around the dress shop was nothing compared to the sheer block of people around the theatre doors. As the car stopped, part of her felt scared to get out because of the swarm of fans that now surrounded her, but she quickly shoved her left hand in her coat pocket to hide her engagement ring and the car door was opened by a member of security. A smirk appeared on her face as she recognised him as the security guard who'd refused to let her into stage door nearly two years ago on the day she told George she loved him, but she decided not to say anything as he helped her out of the car, placing a protective hand on her arm as he guided her into the theatre among the screaming fans.

She spared a quick few smiles to those around her, knowing that without them her lads would be nowhere, but she didn't stop, quickly being guided inside where things were much calmer. There were still a few fans milling about, and though they weren't screaming like the ones outside a group of teenage girls still made a beeline straight for her when they noticed who she was. Connie braced herself, feeling the security guard next to her become protective as if she was a Beatle herself, and knew from experience that whenever fans of the band approached her she was normally flooded by questions about them all. Except as soon as they got close she noticed what they were holding as they grinned at her; the latest copy of the New Times.

"You're Constance Emilia?" one of them asked in place of a greeting, and excited smile on her face as she held up the magazine, open at the page of her latest feature article, her friends wearing a look of awe Connie only associated with girls who wanted to get close to the Beatles, not her. "We love your articles!"

"Yeah, that's me," she said, shocked that someone was recognising her for her work for the first time, not for her boyfriend and mates. "Constance's just my pen name though, you can all just call me Connie, I'm glad you like my stuff, it really means a lot,"

"Of course we do, it's nice to actually see a scouser get somewhere and be successful, you're about the only journalist who acknowledges that there's life outside the south," one of the other girls spoke up and Connie couldn't help but laugh, partly out of amusement and also partly still out of shock. "We get the New Times every week, will you sign it for us?"

"Yeah, yeah of course," she nodded, still laughing as she took the pen and magazine they were holding for her.

Connie pulled her left hand out of her pocket and put her signature on the page of the magazine, making sure not to cover any of the important writing. She'd seen the lads sign things countlessly, but it was still an odd thing to do, signing her name off with a small love heart and kiss, trying not to laugh in disbelief as she handed it back to the girls who were all still all looking at her in amazement, the way girls looked at her mates, not her.

"Thank you so much," one of them grinned at her. "Are you reviewing tonight?"

"Yeah, I'm doing a write up for the first issue of the new year," Connie nodded, but as she was about to thank them again for coming over, she felt the security guard put his hand on her shoulder again, and knew he was signalling for her to go before more fans came in. "Look, I've got to go and find my seat, but I hope you enjoy the show tonight, and thanks again for coming over, it means more than you know,"

They all called goodbye to her and with that she left, letting the guard lead her off into the auditorium, though not before she heard the girls' squeals of excitement. She smirked, thinking about how excited she was to tell George and the others that she'd been recognised, someone wanting to talk to her about her work and not the lads. It was so thrilling she barely noticed the guard leading her to the dress circle box of the theatre, though she snapped out of her daze as he left her and she realised who else she was sitting with.

"Alright, love?" her dad called as soon as she stepped into the box, and she saw he was sat with both of George's parents.

"Shitting hell, hello!" she called excitedly, pulling her dad into a tight hug. "You've never been to a concert before! What're you doing here?"

"Well I've heard 'em practice plenty of times so I thought I'd see what all the fuss was about," he shrugged casually, as if it was just a small-time band he was about to see, not the Beatles. "It was John's idea,"

"That swine," she muttered before grinning again, turning to George's parents, people who were soon to be her in-laws. "Geo didn't tell me you were coming either! It's great to see you both,"

"He wanted it to be a surprise, otherwise we wouldn't see you until the big day," George's mum said as Connie took her seat next to her.

"I know, I'm sorry I haven't had chance to come and see you while we've been up," she said apologetically. "Its hard enough to get out the front door,"

"I know don't worry, it's ridiculous all this fuss," George's mum shook her heard, gesturing around to the rest of the theatre where fans were beginning to take their seats, some of them crying already. As if she knew about the secretive nature of the wedding, she looked around, making sure they weren't in earshot of any nosy fan before she continued, "Georgie said you were going to get your dress today,"

The thought of her dress made Connie grin, and it was good to actually talk about the wedding for once, rather than hiding it and acting like it wasn't happening at all. She chatted to George's mum about it all whilst they waited for the boys to come on stage, and it reminded her of being a teenager and going over to George's house. Sometimes she'd go for tea, other times she'd go to hang out with the boys if they were rehearsing there, but she always ended up in the kitchen with Mrs Harrison for ages. She was a kind, friendly woman who clearly loved her son a lot, and Connie was excited to have her as her mother-in-law.

Soon the curtains opened and the music began to play, and there they were, her four best friends in the whole world, playing their hearts out. Not that anyone could hear them though, as from the moment they played the first note the fans began screaming. Connie herself had let out a little cheer as they started their set, she always did, even when they were in the Cavern and she was stuck working behind the bar, but she actually liked the hear their music, and that wasn't really possible at their concert, ironically. Not as hysteria struck the mad fans.

It had been a while since Connie had been to a Beatles concert, and the last few she'd been to she'd watched from backstage, normally stood with Brian, where she cold hear them better. Even so, that night as she struggled to hear them play, she couldn't help but think that there was something exciting about sitting among the fans. It was quite amusing that she'd sit and sing along quietly, knowing each song word perfect, but the rest of the crowd would scream so loudly they couldn't hear anything but themselves. She never got bored of watching the lads perform, and the same could be said for their effect on the fans. It was insane that the lads she'd grown up with were the cause of such hysteria, but she knew without all the fans they'd be nowhere, probably still playing small clubs and the Cavern every night, still trying to make their big break. Connie loved going to the Beatles' concerts, because they reminded her just how proud she was of them.

It was near the end of the show when they were performing Nowhere Man, a song George knew was Connie's favourite of John's, that her fiance looked out towards the crowd. Connie was caught up in her never-ending amazement that he was so skilled at his instrument he could play without really looking and nearly missed the fact that he wasn't just looking at the crowd, but specifically in her direction. He'd not stopped smiling the whole concert, except for when the front row fans tried to throw things on stage, but she saw him grinning, as if he'd spotted her. She couldn't help but grin back, especially as he winked over to her, flashing her a look that made her struggle not to blush. Paul clearly noticed this exchange and since he was sharing a mic with George he nudged him and raised his eyebrows jokingly, making Connie roll her eyes. What would seem like a bit of banter between the band mates to the rest of the audience was actually a real moment between her and her fiance - and his future best man, because heaven forbid Paul feel left out.

She really did love George, and any of her worries she felt at the dress shop completely disappeared. She was proud of all of them, but especially him, and as they took their final bow and ran off stage Connie found herself looking down at the ring on her middle finger as if it was a reality check, as if she was really going to be marrying such a talented, amazing man. He was the man of her dreams and the love of her life, and now the show was over she wanted nothing more than to see him and kiss him. It was just as well then that the security guard from earlier appeared to escort them all back stage, and as they all left the box, Connie wrapped her arm around her dad's shoulder.

"So, first ever concert, what d'you think?" she asked him, still wearing a grin.

"Loud," her father said with a shrug, gesturing to the rest of the crowd as the once screaming fans had instead begun sobbing. As they walked past, a group of girls all wearing 'we love George' badges noticed them, and he began to laugh rather loudly. "I dare you to go over there and show them your ri-"

"Dad, shut up!" she quickly interrupted, flashing a smile at the girls as she carried on walking. "I swear to god, can you not keep a secret?"

"It shouldn't have to be a secret," he muttered before letting out another laugh. "I'm just excited for you, that's all,"

That was when they reached backstage, and the band were lounging on some scruffy looking sofa. Before she even had chance to greet George, Paul had tackled her into a hug, shortly followed by John who shoved Paul away muttering something about 'family first'.  She let herself be jostled about in a hug between the two men before she shot a look to Ringo, as if asking him to get the two of them off her, but he just grinned and carried on smoking, as if he enjoyed watching the mayhem.

"Right, bugger off, pair of you," she muttered, shoving them both away, though she couldn't help but grin. "Good concert tonight,"

"Was it? I couldn't hear it," John said dryly.

John then began talking to Connie's father, asking him what he thought about the show, and Connie took this opportunity to look over to George. He was talking to his parents, and as much as she hated to interrupt or disturb him, she couldn't help but go over. He'd not really noticed her, not until she took hold of his hand, and his focus immediately shifted from whatever his dad had been saying to her as he shot her a grin, quickly wrapping his arm around her shoulder and kissing her cheek.

"Alright, love?" he asked, grinning. "What did you think?"

"I thought you were amazing," she told him honestly.

If they weren't surrounded by other people, Connie knew she would have gone on to tell him how much she loved him, how proud she was of him, and how excited she was to marry him. Except they were in company, so it could all wait, and she made do with just kissing his cheek, hoping the small gesture would at least convey some of her emotions.

***

Word count: 5483

***