May 1968

The morning of Connie's twenty-sixth birthday, she stretched out in bed, expecting to feel George at her side where he usually was. His side of the bed, however, was cold, and she woke up alone. Except she wasn't really alone, not as she felt a pair of tiny feet kicking away inside her as she sat up, looking at her stomach that was considerably bigger than it was a few months ago.

She let out a long tired sigh, placing both hands against her stomach, savouring the way it felt. The baby had only started kicking the week before, and it was a relief that she had a constant reminder of it, even if it was a pain at night. She'd not gotten much sleep for the last few weeks since the baby was practically nocturnal, but that was one of the only downsides. Thankfully the morning sickness eventually faded off after they got home from India, so even with the heightened emotions and the pressure that came with hiding it all from the press and fans, Connie had started to really enjoy being pregnant.

Hiding the baby from anyone that wasn't need-to-know was a lot easier in theory. They told the essential people, their closest friends and family, but for the most part it was a tricky secret to keep. George insisted that keeping it quiet was the best way to keep them both safe, not wanting to see his wife get hounded by the press any worse than either of them usually were, but it was becoming trickier now she'd started showing. She'd started showing a little just before they left India but over the last few weeks she'd gotten bigger to the point that baggy clothes and high-waisted trousers weren't going to hide it anymore. It was only a matter of time before someone else noticed, before some member of the press caught her out and she was the headline of some newspaper letting everyone know about the baby.

The thought that someone would try and expose her pregnancy just for a piece of sensational journalism was a thought that terrified her, making her overly protective to the extent she rarely left the house alone. The days she had to go into work she tried to get to the office early in the morning and left late at night, hoping that the awkward hours would stop any opportunity for a photographer or journalist to spot her, but it also helped that she'd cut down her hours. Ever since they'd gotten home she'd decided to follow her heart in writing the book she'd started at the Ashram so she cut down her work hours to focus on the project. Even when the book was finally finished and she'd sent it off to various publishers she decided not to go back to the magazine full time. She only went in three days a week, working more from home and surprisingly she didn't miss it.

George and the other lads had been subtly encouraging her to leave the New Times, but she wasn't ready for that. She'd always wanted to be a writer and the magazine had given her that opportunity. Even with the rough start she had, the magazine had helped her build a career and make a name for herself, and even if she was now aspiring to publish fiction like she had always wanted she still liked working. She liked the financial freedom, and even if George brought in more than enough money she liked having something that was just for her. Just because she was pregnant and there was the possibility of her publishing a book, that didn't mean she should give up on the magazine so soon.

Part of her was glad that she'd not taken the lads advice though. She'd yet to hear back from any publishing houses, either with acceptances or rejections, and she couldn't help but worry that no one would want to publish her book, seeing her not as a writer but as a Beatles wife. She hadn't told anyone that fear, keeping it to herself as there were far more important things on the table for them all. What with the baby and the lads starting work on their next album they all had enough to be thinking about without Connie adding her old inferiority complex on top of it all.

She might not have told anyone about her book worries, but she couldn't help but think about it whenever she wasn't distracting herself with work. That morning was no different, so she was relieved when the bedroom door creaked open and she saw George trying to sneak in. He was holding a tray of breakfast plates and two mugs, a parcel and several cards tucked under his arm, and when he noticed Connie sitting up in bed he looked almost disappointed.

"I didn't wake you up did I?" he asked almost worriedly.

"No, don't worry," she smiled at him, stretching slightly before she looked at the tray he set down on the bed as he leant over and kissed her cheek. "Geo, you didn't need to do this,"

"Of course I did, happy birthday, love," he told her, sitting down on the bed next to her. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm perfect, thank you, though your kid won't stop kicking me," she told him with a shrug, raising her eyebrow as George laughed. "Oh yeah, it's only funny to you cause it doesn't roll on your bladder in the middle of the night,"

"Well it's not funny to me when the kid makes you snore or crave meat," George teased, making Connie hit his arm as she rolled her eyes. "Come on, I'm kidding! Please don't be mad at me, look, I made your favourite!"

As he gestured down to the breakfast tray she realised he was right. He'd made her blueberry pancakes, one of her biggest pregnancy cravings, one that George happily supported unlike her cravings for meat pies. He'd made her a strong hot chocolate too to make up for the fact she'd cut out caffeine, and the thought of him going to such efforts made her want to cry, which annoyed her at how emotional she could get. It also annoyed her at how great his pancakes were considering how much she prided herself on her cooking skills, yet they were far superior to any she'd made herself.

After she'd finished eating George handed her the small pile of cards to sort through. There was one from her dad, and one from George's parents, both of them carrying promises of a visit, and surprisingly a card from John's aunt Mimi. It was always a surprise when Mimi sent her a card, and Connie wondered if she'd finally started to like her after so long. The cards soon went forgotten after George handed her a parcel that was from him.

On of the things George didn't like about Connie was how hard she was to buy for. She wasn't really a jewellery person other than the few pieces she wore everyday like her wedding and engagement rings, her locket and her beetle pin John had given her for her leather jacket. She wasn't very materialistic either, constantly saying she had everything she could ever want which was as frustrating as it was sweet. Back when they were teenagers he just used to buy her tickets to the cinema or cheap records for her collection but he didn't really think that was special enough considering they'd been married for two years.

She wasn't materialistic, but she was sentimental, hence why she struggled not to cry as she unwrapped the photo album he'd gifted her. It was leather-bound, decorated with Indian symbols, and when she flicked open the cover she saw it was filled with photos of them since they'd moved to London. Once he'd gotten the album he'd gone to Ringo for help since the drummer always seemed to have a camera on him and had taken a surprising amount of pictures of them all over the years. Some of them George didn't know existed, beautiful candid shots of himself and Connie or the whole group of them, and he'd organised them all throughout the album in order, chronologizing them from the moment they moved in together, the tours they'd been on, the premiers and the events, all the way up to the trip to India.

"Georgie, these are all beautiful, where did you get them all?" she asked, trying not to cry as she flicked through the book, her hand stroking over one photo in particular taken in the dressing room of a theatre in Miami where she as sat on his knee, both of them squeezed together on an old-looking arm chair, both of them smoking whilst Connie was combing George's hair neatly.

"I asked Ringo for help," he confessed. "He invited me round to sort through some pictures he's taken over the years so I claimed these, I thought you'd like them,"

"I love them," she grinned, leaning over and kissing his cheek before she pointed down at another photo, taken on George's birthday a few months ago in India showing both of them laughing at something John was saying. "That feels so long ago,"

"I know," he sighed, wrapping his arm around her shoulder to bring her closer, putting his spare hand on her stomach, knowing that it only felt like a lifetime ago because of how much things had changed in such a short space of time. "I know it's not much but-"

"No, George, it's perfect," she told him genuinely. "You're perfect. Thank you. I love you so much,"

"I love you too," he grinned, moving to push a kiss onto her lips until he felt a kick against his hand. He let out a small laugh before adding, "Someone clearly doesn't want to be forgotten,"

"Honestly the amount it kicks I don't think it could be forgotten," she rolled her eyes. "What time are the lads coming? Do you want me out of the house while you're recording?"

"No, no of course not, they should be getting here in a couple of hours," he said with a small shrug. "The whole point of us recording the demos here was so I could be with you. To be honest I'd really like you close today, Paul wanted to do another try of one of his songs and I can't be arsed to deal with John calling him names and all that shit, it's driving me and Ringo mad," 

Connie laughed, rolling her eyes as she pushed a kiss to George's cheek. As much of a nightmare he thought working with the lads was, what with them calling each other names and the insults starting to stray further away from banter, she was glad that recording the demos for the new album meant that she got to see them all everyday.

***

Connie had banned smoking in the house, one of her many lifestyle changes that had come once they got home from India. She hadn't smoked for a while, but once she fell pregnant she didn't want any smoke in the house, hence why George was having to smoke outside in the garden. He definitely preferred her enforced no smoking rule to the fact she'd started eating meat again, but he knew it was just a pregnancy craving, and the least he could do for the next few months was to just go along with everything and support her.

Having to smoke outside also gave him the perfect excuse to take a break from the other lads. He loved them all, but over the last few weeks they'd been getting on his last nerve. Before, when they were working, it all used to just be about the music, but their personal lives were creeping into business more and more. Paul had just been dumped by Jane and John was planning on leaving Cynthia with the intentions of moving in with his new woman, and none of that was good for the band. Paul was depressed and John couldn't focus, constantly talking about this Yoko, who none of them had even met yet.

Perhaps it was a good thing that they were round at the Harrison's everyday whilst doing the demos, Connie's presence being a good calming influence. She didn't get involved when they were working, but every so often they'd invite her in to hear what they'd done that day and she'd give her thoughts. Whenever she was around she was constantly trying to cheer Paul up, even if she'd initially been furious that Jane had caught him cheating. She'd gone off on him, exclaiming that she thought he had more respect for women than that, but after a while she went back to being his supportive friend, trying to get him out of the dumps. She acted the same around John, lecturing him about how he needed to be respectful towards Cynthia regardless of his newfound love, and he needed to be there for Julian, but even with the lectures she still made it clear that she was there for him.

George also knew how much Connie needed her friends around her. After India they'd all made much more of an effort to include her more, which, even if she didn't say anything, he knew she was grateful for. She'd not really said much about it, but he knew the fact that they were becoming parents in only a few months was making her a little nervous. Usually Connie tried to focus on the positives, but occasionally she mentioned something that seemed to subtly suggest at her not feeling as positive as she made out. He'd noticed that sometimes she'd mention her Mum or her own childhood, and it was as though she was quietly hinting that she was scared.

Obviously she was going to be scared. He was scared too, but she was the pregnant one, so he'd much rather focus on how she was feeling. He'd tried to help her through the nerves, reassuring her that what happened to her as a child wouldn't happen to their baby. Losing her Mum at a young age and not having her Dad around much afterwards had always been a big thing in her life for as long as George knew her, and though she didn't often talk about it every so often her childhood struggles appeared, manifesting in different ways. In the old days it was through her struggle to understand her feelings and tell him how she loved him, now she was pregnant it was the thought that their baby would grow up feeling as alone as she did. There wasn't really much George could do besides reassure her that he'd always be there for the both of them, so he was just glad that the other lads were around a lot. As much as they irritated him sometimes, they provided the perfect distraction from his fears of fatherhood and made Connie feel a lot less alone.

He stubbed his cigarette out on the path with his shoe and sighed, exhaling the last cloud of smoke as he tried not to worry about his wife. The band would only be basing themselves at Kinfauns for another few weeks, and afterwards he didn't like the thought of not being with Connie constantly. They'd all come back from India with plenty of songs, more than enough for an album, and it had been his idea to record the demos for them all at their house, wanting to keep Connie involved and stay close to her, but in two weeks time they were booked in at EMI studios on Abbey Road to record properly, and she'd already decided she was going to start working in the office more once they were in the studio again.

He hated the thought of her working, not just because she'd be putting herself through unnecessary stress, but because she'd be out of the house where the fans and press could see her. They'd been out a few times together since they found out she was pregnant, but not as much since she'd started showing. It couldn't be hidden forever, but he didn't like the thought of the press getting photos of her and writing articles about her and the baby. Not that she would admit it, but Connie was vulnerable and he knew it would upset her if some newspaper wrote something horrible about her. He always wanted to protect her, that was his job, but that job felt even more important to him knowing he was now protecting his child as well. If he could save the two of them from ever having to be in the public eye he would, but it was impossible and inevitable.

With another small sigh he headed back into the house, and as soon as he was through the front door he could hear the laughs of his wife and bandmates and the noise of guitars and drums. They had based themselves in the Harrison's old spare bedroom, making perfect use of it since they'd taken everything out of it ready to convert it into a nursery. Maybe in the future it would be a funny story for the kid that their first bedroom was the Beatles' recording studio, but at that point it was perfect for a makeshift studio.

As soon as he walked into the room, George was left baffled as to what was going on. The first thing he saw was Connie, sat on one of the stools next to where he had set his guitar down, both of her hands on her growing stomach. She looked beautiful, as always, with her hair pulled back into a frizzy ponytail, her bump looking quite pronounced in the dark red maternity dress she'd put on. He didn't focus on how nice she looked for too long though, as he instead wondered why the three other Beatles were looking at her expectantly, sat around her in a sort of circle.

John and Paul were sat in front of her cross-legged as they held their guitars, whilst Ringo was sat behind his drums. George made to ask what was going on, wondering why they were sat quietly staring at his wife, but John shushed him, adjusting his glasses as Ringo hit his drums in a tune that sounded like one of Paul's songs that they'd been practicing. He finished, and they sat quietly again, watching Connie's serious expression until she cracked a small smile, looking to Ringo with a nod. He cheered, throwing his drumsticks in the air whilst the other two muttered curses.

"Should I even ask what's going on?" George asked, going to stand behind Connie, putting one hand on her shoulder as she lent back into him, taking hold of his spare hand and putting it on her stomach.

"Trying to see which one of us is gonna be godfather," Paul answered casually before the others had the chance, though his statement only left more questions.

"You what?" George frowned, letting out a confused laugh.

"John had this idea that the poor kid will know the whole album before it's even born, and then Paul said it'll have probably decided which Beatle is its favourite," Connie explained, looking as though she was trying not to roll her eyes though she was clearly amused.

"Well yeah, hopefully me," he pointed out, making the other three band mates scoff, as if it was absurd that being the father meant he was automatically confirmed to be the favourite.

"So then I said whenever you play certain songs the baby starts kicking," she continued. "And then Ringo suggested we figure out which one of them it likes more. The three of them are taking it in turns to play something and whichever one makes the kid kick more is the favourite and therefore, apparently, the godfather,"

George was still left with so many questions, but he didn't get chance to ask them, the game clearly more important as John began to play a tune on his guitar. It sounded like one he'd heard him writing in India, and once he'd finished he looked up at Connie, flicking his shaggy hair out of his eyes, his glasses perched on the end of his nose as he stared over them at his cousin expectantly. A moment of silence played out, and as Connie didn't respond he played again. Once he'd stopped, Connie let out a laugh as she shook her head.

"What the hell? Why doesn't it like me?" John exclaimed dramatically, throwing his guitar to the floor as he folded his arms across his chest in a huff.

"Guess he just knows you're a swine," Connie shrugged with a teasing smirk.

"Well he clearly doesn't take after the Lennon side," John muttered, rolling his eyes annoyedly as he turned away slightly, continuing to play his guitar.

"Oi, both of you quit calling it a boy, it could be a girl!" George told them defensively, and before any of them could protest to his suggestion he turned his focus purely onto his wife. "Are you hungry? Do you want anything?"

"No, I'm fine thank you," she told him, and she moved to get up but when he quickly moved to help her she looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Seriously, I can stand up without help,"

George just shrugged, the way he always did when she scolded him for fussing over her. He couldn't help it really, even if it annoyed her and the lads teased him for it. Even if she was fed up of him constantly trying to look after her, Connie smirked a little as she got up, leaning over and pushing a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm gonna try and do some work," she told him, and before she had the chance to go off towards the door to leave George caught hold of her hand, squeezing it gently.

"Alright, just take it easy," he said, smiling as she laughed at his protectiveness.

"Shitting hell, George, it's not like she's a coal miner she's only writing a bloody magazine article," John muttered amusedly as soon as Connie had left, the other two laughing in amusement. "You're too protective over her,"

"Says the person who threatened to punch any lad who got close to her back when we were teenagers," Ringo pointed out, and George nodded in agreement whilst John shrugged.

With that the four of them got back to business, rehearsing and doing recordings of their songs. Every so often when they had to pause recordings they'd bicker, but thankfully it was nothing too horrific. Whilst they were mid-take George heard the phone ring in the living room down the hall but Connie answered it quickly so he wasn't too bothered about the possibility of it spoiling a good demo. None of the others seemed to notice though, much too engrossed in the music.

As they finished the take, George got up to stop the recording whilst Paul set his guitar aside and began giving his thoughts on everything. Sneaking a bored look to Ringo, George tried not to roll his eyes, especially when John began to voice his opinions and he quickly saw how the two were going to clash. It seemed almost inevitable that an argument was going to erupt, until they were interupted by a scream from down the hallway, a scream that obviously belonged to Connie.

"Jesus Fucking Christ!" Connie screamed, sounding like she was in the living room.

George felt his stomach flip, feeling as if he'd just been dropped from the sky as his chest tightened in nerves, his mind instantly going to the worst possible place as he thought about why his pregnant wife would be screaming. The other three were clearly on edge too, John's previous amusement at George forgotten completely as he shot up from the floor, tossing his guitar aside, but before any of them had chance to act on the scream, the door to the room flew open as Connie ran at them.

She was grinning, but she also had tears streaming down her cheeks, so they were all lost trying to decode what was happening, especially as she ran at George, practically jumping at him as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders tightly, hugging him as close as she could. He felt her shake a little, so he still had no idea what was going on, even as she pushed a few kisses onto his cheek. She seemed excited, but her emotions had been all over the place for the last few months, and George had no idea how to read the situation, along with the other Beatles.

"Jesus, Con, put him down!" John cursed annoyedly.

"Fuck off," she muttered, not a care in her voice as she pulled away from George slightly, flashing him another grin as she wiped her cheeks free of tears.

"What's going on, love? You're worrying me," George asked her, looking over her face nervously. "Is something happening with the baby?"

"No, no, the kid's fine, I promise," she told him, making him sigh with relief as she smiled again, though this time her expression was pure excitement. "A publisher just called me, they want to publish my book!"

She threw her arms back around him with a small squeal of happiness and George let out a small gasp of shock at both how she'd practically jumped on him and the news she'd just told him. As it set in, the news that his wife was about to become a published author settling into his mind, he let out an excited laugh of his own, wrapping his arms around her waist as he spun her in their air. He tried to hold back his grin, but when he saw how happy Connie was it was impossible. It reminded him of the first time one of her articles made the cover of the New Times and she'd rang him up crying, or the time she'd first been recognised as a writer rather than his partner. He'd seen her be proud of him and the band plenty of times, she was constantly telling him just how thrilled she was for all their achievements and he loved that, but seeing her be proud of herself was something he loved far more.

He set her down on the floor gently, moving one of his hands from her waist to her stomach as he kissed her, trying to figure out how to phrase just how proud of her he was.

"They loved it," she breathed out, her voice shaking in elation. "They said it was one of the best manuscripts they've received in ages, but they might have just been bullshitting me. They want me to go into their office tomorrow to talk about contracts and stuff but bloody hell, Georgie!"

"As if they'd bullshit you, of course it was one of the best!" he told her with a grin. "God, Con, I'm so proud of you!"

"We all are!" another excited voice called, and the two of them suddenly remembered that they weren't alone as Paul threw his arms around both of them.

Connie was so happy she didn't even care that Paul was invading on her embrace with George. She didn't even care when John and Ringo got hold of her either, the five of them caught in one giddy hug. They never did that, and a voice in the back of Connie's head seemed to scream at her to savour the moment, savour the fact that the people who meant the most to her were all holding her and they were all happy for her achievement. Part of her wanted to cry, feeling more overjoyed at everyone's reactions rather than the news itself.

"Right, cool, glad you're all happy but you can put me down now!" she called after a moment, and they all stepped away, all except for George, who's arm was still wrapped around her shoulder tightly. "So, that's pretty good news right?"

"Yeah, I always knew it'd get published, you always were the more talented Lennon," John shrugged casually, nudging his glasses up his nose with the back of his hand.

"I'm not dedicating the book to you if that's what you're getting at," she told him bluntly, flashing a smirk as he pulled a fake-disappointed face.

"That's so cool though, Con, congrats," Ringo said, hitting her arm gently with a grin. "Did they say when they'd release it?"

"No idea, but I'll push for it to be out before the baby comes, I want the kid to know that I've actually done something half decent other than some shit journalism," she shrugged, feeling George squeeze her shoulder gently, as if he didn't agree with what she was saying an wanted to reassure her that it wasn't the case.

"Yeah, because digging us out of all of our problems is just shit journalism," John pointed out, reminding her of all the articles she'd written every time one of them had said or did something controversial. "We'd have been lost without our trusty fifth Beatle,"

As John was talking Connie felt a sharp pain in her lower stomach, recognising the sensation immediately. She was more than used to the baby kicking her now, but sometimes it still took her by surprise, her hand instantly going to her stomach, her eyebrows creasing together for only a moment, but it was long enough for the others to notice, especially John. He looked at her wide eyed, his mind clearly racing as their eyes met, Connie looking at him tiredly, already knowing how he was about to react.

"Did the kid just kick when it heard me being nice to you?" he asked, clearly excited, his annoyance from earlier forgotten as he grinned. "He does like me then! He doesn't hate his Uncle John!"

"Oi, quit calling it a boy!" George exclaimed protectively again, making Connie, Paul and Ringo laugh.

The voice in her head was back, and Connie smiled as she watched her friends, appreciating just how happy she was with her life.

***

Word count: 4999

***

Authors note;
Hello everyone, thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm really thankful for all the love the last chapter got, I'm so glad so many of you were excited about Connie being pregnant. I'd love to hear any baby name suggestions as well as predictions as to what they're having (I've already got it planned but I still wanna know what you think).

Since there's only a few chapters left of this (probably less than five), I also just wanted to ask if there's any interest for anymore books based on Connie and George? I don't want to write another proper sequel, but I've got two ideas I wanna hear your thoughts on. The first is that I write a one shot book that consists of one-off chapters set in various moments of Connie and George's lives, so some chapters back in the fifties that I planned for In My Life that I never ended up writing, some in the post-Beatles seventies and some in the eighties centred on their family. The other idea I have is to write a spin-off sort of thing set in Liverpool in the current era based on Connie and George's granddaughter. I've been playing with that idea for a while but I didn't know if there'd be any interest for it. To be honest I'll probably go with the first idea, I just wanted to hear people's thoughts about it all.

I do however already have another Beatles fic on the go called Nowhere Girl with John as the love interest. Connie makes an appearance a few times as well, and I'm really proud of how this story is going so I'd appreciate it if you checked it out! I'm sure if you like In My Life/Within You Without You/ Connie you'll really like Nowhere Girl/Robin.

Thank you again for reading and I'll see you all with the next chapter that will hopefully be out soon!
~Olivia