September, 1985

The morning peace that had settled over Friar Park was disturbed, as always, by Josie and Thea's loud bickering, not that Connie and George were going to interrupt them. They'd both given up trying to understand their daughters' relationship a long time ago.

"Have you thought maybe since we live in a big fuck-off estate that the girls should have their own rooms?" Connie muttered to him quietly over the breakfast table, not looking up from the newspaper.

"It's character building, I had to share a bedroom with my brothers," George pointed out simply, though grimaced when he heard the slamming door sound from upstairs, setting down the book he'd been reading; Connie's newly released book. "Though you might have a point, even if they have their own rooms just for the sake of the doorframes,"

"I still think we should lock them in one of the garden sheds and let them fight it out until they get bored," Connie shrugged. "D'you wanna have a bet on what they're arguing about this time?"

"Last time it was that Thea broke Jo's guitar strings without telling her, I reckon Jo's done something back in revenge, maybe she's shredded her script of something," he thought aloud, before laughing, rubbing his hand across his forehead. "Can you remember when we were young and for fun we'd go to the pub rather than place bets on our daughters?"

"Going to the pub with you was never fun when we were in Liverpool, you were always scared you'd get kicked out for being underage, plus we were both that poor we'd have to share pints," she reminded him before tossing the newspaper aside, flashing her husband a sarcastic grin. "I told you though didn't I? The combination of the two of us would result in nightmare kids,"

That wasn't necessarily true. Connie and George both loved how wild their kids could be, even if they were a headache at times. Josie still looked a lot like George as she had done when she was little, but she'd inherited her mother's nose as well as her temperament. Fiery and strong-willed, she was insanely smart, going through school with flying colours, not that she intended on using any of her grades. Instead of becoming a doctor or a lawyer like George had secretly wanted her to be, she wanted to become a musician, or 'go into the family business' as she sarcastically called it. As much as George hated the thought of his daughter having to go through the pressures of the industry as well as the inevitable attention from the press, he had to admit she was an amazing guitarist and singer, and she definitely had the charisma to capture audience's hearts. Regardless of her wanting to make music, both of her parents were immensely proud of her.

The same could be said for their second child. Formally named Louise Theodora after George's mum and Connie's mum's middle name, Thea was just like her parents too, but in a more subtle way. Nearly two years younger than Josie, she physically resembled Connie a lot more than her sister did, but she was quieter, more reserved. She was just as smart though, and if the moment called for it she could forget all about her quiet nature and be able to silence a whole room with a witty comment. Thea didn't share Josie's ambition to be a rock star, she instead wanted to be a west end performer, a dream that was Connie's fault for taking her to the theatre too much as a child. Her ambition reminded Connie just how much she had wanted to be a writer back when she was a teenager, so whatever she could do to help her daughter's dream come true, she'd do it.

Then there was Dhani, their youngest who'd only just turned ten. He was George's double both physically and mentally, much calmer than either of his mad sisters though just as funny. He followed George around like his shadow, and George loved taking him in the studio and teaching him the guitar. Though George and Connie adored all three of their kids, him being the youngest and the only boy made him so special, plus he was much easier since he didn't slam doors or scream in the early hours like his sisters did.

The two of them were still in awe that they had one child, let alone three, but Connie was constantly in disbelief for how their lives had turned out. She and George had always worked hard for what they wanted, but she felt immensely lucky for everything they had. They had each other and their amazing children, but they also had the house, Friar Park. To say the Victorian neo-gothic manor was bigger than their last house was an understatement, but they had quickly turned it into a home, adding all of their personal touches to it. The girls shared one of the large tower rooms while Dhani had a room of his own next to theirs, and as well as a library and music room that had its walls lined with shelves full of records, Connie had converted a room into an office to work from home and write in, with George renovating another part of the house into a home studio, though it was rare for him to leave the gardens considering how big the land was. He was constantly working on improvements, adding rare plants, tending to the trees or cleaning the ponds, though the caves near the back of the gardens had been claimed by Josie and Thea for a secret place to sneak out to get drunk, the pair of them unknowing to the fact that their parents knew exactly where they hid. There were lakes in the garden too, which was cool for Connie and her father - who'd moved down from Liverpool to live with them after retiring - as they planned to put a few fish in so they could go out fishing and teach the kids.

They were both lucky for their careers too. The royalties for the Beatles' work still came in, but George had so far made a great name for himself as a solo musician. He'd finally been able to step out from the others' shadows, perform his own songs and not have to constantly be someone else's backing man, even if he rarely had a drummer on his tracks that wasn't Ringo. He was slowly in the process of putting together another album, but one of the great parts of a home studio was that he could just work whenever he wanted and not force anything. He was taking his time, which meant he could spend more time with his family.

Connie was so proud of him, but she was proud of herself too. She still worked at the New Times, but both she and Ruby had been promoted to co-editors. Instead of writing for the magazine she had been given control of the magazine with the responsibility to manage a team of new, young writers that made her feel inspired as well as old. Somehow they kept the content relevant with the new trends of the eighties, and the  magazine was just as popular as it had been in the sixties. Connie also kept writing books, the one George was reading that morning being her fourth, but she'd also started writing plays, sometimes being commissioned by local theatres or selling the scripts to acting companies that would tour the country. She still worked under a penname, and it often amazed her that she'd be known for her own success rather than the man she married considering all the fuss in the sixties.

Things had finally gone quiet upstairs, and both Connie and George looked at each other questioningly, wondering if their daughters had finally killed each other as it often sounded like they were on the verge of doing, or if they'd made an unsteady truce as they did most mornings. Their disagreements were worse considering it had just been the Summer holidays, but once they were in school they were inseparable, fiercely protective of each other against the world. Their relationship reminded George a little of how Connie and John used to be as teenagers, constantly bickering yet would defend the other without question the moment it was called for, though he'd not mentioned the likeness to his wife, worried the reminder of her cousin would be too painful.

Following the silence was the noise of laughter and two pairs of thundering footsteps downstairs to the kitchen, and before either of them knew it their daughters had descended upon them. Josie had back-combed her thick curly hair dramatically and had been experimenting with dramatic flicks of eyeliner, and she was wearing a Live Aid t-shirt tucked into a short red skirt with black Doc Martin boots, a black oversized shirt that looked exactly like one that had gone missing from George's wardrobe a few months ago thrown on top. Thea looked the complete opposite, makeup-free with her hair braided neatly in two French plaits, wearing a baggy striped jumper and a pair of blue flared jeans, a pair of striped nike trainers in her hands as well as an oversized backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Morning all," Thea called, nodding at her parents casually as she dropped her bag and shoes by the table whilst Josie headed over to the fridge.

"Morning Constance, morning Georgie," Josie greeted sarcastically with a nod, enjoying the way her mother jokingly scowled at her.

"You alright, girls?" George asked, a nervous glint in his eyes as he glanced at Connie.

"Yeah, why wouldn't we be?" Josie shrugged, as if it hadn't just sounded like the two of them were going to murder each other upstairs.

"No reason," Connie said quickly before George had the chance to mention the argument, wary that it could set them off again. "What are you both up to today?"

"Jo's dropping me off at school in a bit, weekend rehearsals for the musical, y'know," Thea said as she hopped up to sit on the kitchen counter, swinging her legs off the side. "Mic checks, costume try-ons and all that important stuff,"

"The most important part being she's gonna try and trip Jessy Parkett down the stairs so she can be her understudy rather than just have an ensemble part," Josie commented dryly, flashing her sister a sarcastic smirk as she pulled out a plate of leftover sandwiches. "Not that I'd complain, I've hated Jessy ever since she got Head Girl. She only wanted the position so she could get away with making fun of all the other girls who aren't as pretty or clever as her, she's honestly the biggest bint in my year group,"

"Maybe if I trip her and she breaks her leg they'll make me the lead of the musical and make you Head Girl like they should have done to start with!" Thea gasped dramatically, and the two girls looked at each other with wide eyes as if they'd just come up with the greatest plan ever.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but for Gods sake, please don't trip someone down the stairs," George sighed, rubbing his brow exasperatedly.

"Yeah, just break her nose, it's easier and causes more long term damage," Connie suggested casually, hoping neither girl would take her seriously.

"Bloody hell, Con!" George exclaimed before breaking down into laughter, especially as the girls laughed too. "Please don't tell our daughters to be violent thugs,"

"Oi, don't call our mother a violent thug!" Josie protested jokingly, flicking George's arm and swiping his mug of coffee off the table to help herself as she passed the plate of sandwiches to Thea. "We've heard the stories from Uncle Paul and Uncle Richie, we know exactly what Mum got up to back in the day and it's far worse than what Thea and I are planning,"

"What are you doing after you drop your sister off?" Connie asked, changing the topic before any of them dared mention the stories that Paul and Ringo had been embarrassing her with, looking at Josie seriously, hoping to warn her off any mayhem she was planning on getting up to.

"Well, I'm nipping into London to go see Jules, he's doing some studio stuff and invited me along," Josie shrugged, her voice starting off confident before trailing off almost nervously, especially as she continued with, "Then we're gonna go to the Hard Rock Café to see Zak and Jay, maybe, no solid plans really. Is that cool?"

"Don't get drunk," Connie said simply before chuckling, trying to stay serious as she offered parental advice, but she couldn't help but be amused by Josie's antics. "Y'know I don't care if you get pissed with your mates, me and your dad were doing far worse at seventeen, and I trust the lads to look out for you, but if I have to see the lot of you end up on some newspaper front page comparing you all to your dad's I'll sue the papers myself,"

Josie bit her lip, blushing red as she remembered the front page spread her mother was referencing, the one that had somehow gotten pictures of her, Julian Lennon and Jason Starkey leaving the Hard Rock Café, the three of them anything but sober. The paper had featured a full report all about them getting drunk in the cafe that belonged to Jason's step-father, writing that they were all just as friendly with each other as their parents had been, speculating that they'd be the next generation of the Beatles, though the paper was more open to disrespecting her than it was the lads, probably because she was a girl and the media had never liked Connie either. It had all been a little embarrassing, especially when the people at school saw it and had a good laugh about it, but her parents hadn't been mad, their anger lying with the paper that had published it, capitalising on three young people having fun solely because of their parents. She knew it was inevitable, just a weird thing that came with having a famous family, but it still irritated all of them. Even so, she had the newspaper photo pinned up on her bedroom wall in silent rebellion.

"My alcohol tolerance has gotten better since that time," Josie said quietly, not meeting either of her parents' eyes. "We'll be subtle,"

"You don't know the meaning of subtle," Thea muttered as she rolled her eyes, smirking at Josie's scowl before she looked over to Connie and George. "Where's Dhan and Grandad?"

"Avoiding the warzone that was you two," George mumbled, barely noticeable to the girls, before speaking a little louder, adding, "They're out in the garden, fishing in the lakes,"

"Thought you were cleaning the lakes so you'd taken all the fish out?" Thea frowned.

"Yeah, but neither of them know that and it's keeping them quiet, plus I wanna see how long it takes me Dad to notice that they're not just blanking because of his angling skills," Connie told them, the girls laughing. "You two should get going, haven't you got a bint's leg to break?"

"Yeah, see you both later," Josie nodded, giving both of her parents a quick hug farewell, elbowing her sister as Thea jumped off the kitchen side. "Come on, Theodora,"

"After you, Josephine," Thea teased back, grabbing her stuff before ruffling George's hair. "See ya', love ya',"

After quick goodbyes the two of them ran off out of the kitchen and were out of the house, the slam of the front door signalling their departure and instantly the house seemed so much quieter without them. Connie and George looked at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter, the pair of them grinning in amusement at their girls. George got up from his seat to move and stand behind Connie, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, pushing a kiss to the top of her head before resting his chin on her. Connie sighed, leaning back into him, still not over how much she loved it when he held her like that. Even after twenty one years together, it had never gotten boring being with him.

"They're like less aggressive, musical versions of the Kray twins," Connie reckoned quietly after a moment of comfortable silence, and though George sighed he let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

"I'm really worried now that when we go see this bloody school musical Thea'll be the lead and there'll be some notice in the programme wishing the Head Girl a speedy recovery," George muttered, making Connie snort out a laugh. "You should have never let Ringo tell them all those stories about when we were younger,"

"Oh, be reyt," she shrugged, smirking slightly as she sat up a little, moving round so she could kiss his cheek.

As he stood, hugging her, she leant over and pulled the book he'd left on the table over towards her, flicking open the cover just for the sheer thrill that she had a published book. That was another thing that was still exciting to her, that her hard work had paid off into a real thing that people had read and enjoyed.

She'd not intended to, but she accidentally flicked onto the dedications page, and her proud smirk disappeared. She'd written that particular page in the spur of the moment after a few glasses of whiskey and had sent it off to the publisher without thinking. She'd regretted it ever since, but before she could stop herself her eyes had darted over the page, reading the regretted words.

'For my Georgie, the one who attracts me like no other lover. For our wonderful, terrible pack of children. And for John, my brother. I miss you and love you, Swine.'

George, still hugging her from behind, felt her tense as she read the words, and he immediately stood up straighter, taking the book out of her hands, closing it and putting it on the opposite end of the table, as if attempting to protect her from the emotions that he knew she was already facing. He offered her his hand and she took it, getting up and hugging him tightly, burying her face into the crook of his neck, the way she did any time she felt sad or overwhelmed. She'd always done that through any sort of hardship throughout their nearly twenty year marriage, but she'd made a habit of it in the last five years anytime her mind accidentally stumbled on the grief she tried to hide from.

She'd not really wanted to publicly talk about John, but the dedication had seemed right since that's what author's did; they dedicated their books to the people who meant to most to them. It wasn't like the words were lies either, since she missed John more and more as time went on. Though they were always close she'd never realised just how much she relied on him. Even after the Beatles split up she tried to stay close to each of them even if George had his grudges, with regular trips to Scotland to see Paul and his family, and weekly phone calls to John when he moved to New York. They'd been in a routine of weekly calls for so long that it still felt strange every Sunday night when the phone didn't ring, and it still felt as though a part of her was missing.

She didn't cry anymore about losing him though, that part of her was gone. Instead, sometimes reminders of her cousin floored her to the point that she felt numb, wanting to just sit alone and hide from everything. That was tricky though, because she wasn't alone in her pain, it wasn't solely her loss. If anything it had made her closer to her friends, and the kids were a good distraction though, and so was George. John was George's family too, bonded as brothers through the Beatles, and she was glad she had him to lean on, the two of them supporting each other.

"I didn't really think that dedication through," she mumbled sadly, knowing that book would now forever be a reminder of him, sighing as George stroked her hair. "He'd probably think I'm a prick for it,"

"Nah, he never thought you were a prick, he thought you were brilliant," George assured her, kissing the top of her head again. "He was really proud of your books, he'd love it. He'd call you the most famous Lennon,"

"He'd be talking a load of bollocks," she laughed bitterly, thinking about the massive legacy that surrounded them all.

She decided to try and not be overwhelmed by sadness, so instead focused on George. She turned her mind away from the pain and channelled her energy onto the way one of his hands was pressed tightly to the small of her back whilst the other was running through her curls. She kept herself focused on the thought of him and how amazing he was to her, and how good he was for their kids, the way he looked at their daughters as if they were the greatest things in the world even when they were joking about sabotaging someone being the perfect example of his love. George was what kept her head clear, because if she had him surely things couldn't be all bad.

"I love you," she spoke, lifting her head up to look at him properly, pushing her lips gently to his.

"I love you too," he said, squeezing her tight until she let out a quiet laugh. "Since our own version of the Krays are someone else's problem and your dad's with Dhan, d'you wanna go and hear what I've done with the album so far?"

"Yeah, go on then, Mr Rockstar," she joked, pulling out of their embrace as she grinned teasingly at him, taking hold of his hand and kissing his cheek.

With that, the two of them went off hand-in-hand to George's home studio, joking and chatting with each other, keeping the mood light despite the previous momentary sorrow. They both had to live with their emotions, but they had each other, and Connie knew with plenty of experience that she could get through anything as long as George was by her side.

Their whole lives was proof enough of that.

***
Word count: 3652

***
Author's note:

So, there we go, that's the end.

I just wanna thank everyone who's ever read/voted/commented on this or the previous book. This book in particular has been a big help to me to get through this year in general so to know other people have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it really means a lot.

I'm still not sure what I'm gonna do now this is finished. I initially either wanted to do a one-shot book based on all the scenes between Connie and George that I missed out in this and the last book or a modern-day story based around their granddaughter set in Liverpool, and I've been writing bits of both (especially the latter) but I don't know if anyone wants them and to be honest I'm struggling at the minute to balance everything. I've obviously got my other stories that I'm working on but I've also got uni and my Masters application, so I'll let you know what's occurring if I decide to do anything more with Connie and George. However, I think this is a nice place to end their story so I hope you all agree!

Please let me know what you think, and thanks again for all the love!

~Olivia