Another Girl-Complete

Chapter Thirty

Sadie awoke during the wee hours of the morning to cramping in her lower abdomen. Paul was due at Twickenham studios for 8:30 that morning and the brunette didn't want to bother him. She knew a Beatle needed his sleep. Instead, Sadie quietly removed herself from the comfort of the bassist's strong arms and padded toward the adjoining bathroom. Within a matter of a few minutes, the cramping had gotten worse. Clutching her stomach, Sadie drew herself a bath; thinking the warm water would help ease the pain. Stepping inside the tub, Sadie sat down; still clutching her abdomen. Breathing deeply, the petite brunette laid back against the cool porcelain tub; resting her head. After fifteen minutes, the cramping subsided and Sadie got out of the tub. Wrapping a towel around her slender body, Sadie padded back to the bedroom-cramps now gone; but feeling very tired. Unwrapping the towel, Sadie felt around in the dark for her panties and nightgown. Dressing in the dark was a challenge, but Sadie some how did it. Satisfied with the results, an extremely tired Sadie plopped down on her side of the bed; not even bothering to cover up with blankets.

Upon hearing the bed creak, Paul turned back over to Sadie groggily. " Luv," He yawned. "Are ye alrigh? Yer not underneath the covers an' it's freezin."

"Yeah. I just woke up a little while ago with cramping in my abdomen. I'm okay now; just really exhausted." Sadie yawned, as Paul pulled her underneath the covers. The green-eyed bassist though nothing of it. Paul draped his arm over the brunette's abdomen; bringing her closer to his chest. Both fell back into a fitful sleep.

***

Seven-thirty arrived with the sun shining, birds chirping happily and the shrill of the alarm clock. Paul McCartney grumbled in to his soft, white, fluffy pillow. His left hand fumbling on the night-stand for the alarm clock; to shut it off. Successfully, Paul located the button and the damn clock shut off. Sitting up in bed, he yawned and stretched out. Turning to the right, Paul was about to wake up Sadie; but to his surprise, she wasn't there. Scratching the slight stubble forming on his chin, Paul stood up. As he scanned the large bedroom, he located his blue and white striped pajama bottoms and a blue bathrobe.

Paul remembered the poor girl woke up in the middle of the night with cramping in her abdomen. Maybe she's in the bathroom? A thought entered his mind, as he strode to the adjoining bathroom. The Door was closed, but the light wasn't on. I never close the bathroom door all the way! The door creaked as Paul opened it and turned the light on.

Immediately the doe-eyed bassist fell down on the tile floor. Sadie was sprawled out on the floor; unconscious! Scooping the girl up in his arms, Paul gently set her down on the bed and reached for the phone. Dialing 999, someone picked up on the other end. "Ello? Yes, please come quick! My girlfriend was unconscious on the bathroom floor! Please 'urry yer bloody arses off!" Tears started forming in those hazel pools. "7 Cavendish Ave. Yes, tha' Paul McCartney! I don' care if yer daughter is a  fuckin' major Beatles fan! Jus' 'urry the fuck up..and now!!" A visibly shaken up Paul McCartney slammed the black phone on the receiver.

Cradling the petite brunette with strong arms, Paul softly choked back the tears. "Sade, luv, ye will be alright. Please, talk to me! Sshh, Paulie's got ya."

Sounds of sirens could be heard coming closer and closer. The front gate buzzed and Paul opened it for the ambulance to pass through. Hurriedly the medics followed the Beatle upstairs toward the bedroom and examined Sadie. They immediately started  an IV drip and took the girl's vital signs. The medics asked Paul all sorts of questions pertaining to Sadie and whatnot. "We'll 'ave to take her to the 'ospital; get 'er checked out." One paramedic stated, lifting Sadie's body onto the gurney. The girl was still unconscious; looking paler than ever.

By now, Paul was beside himself. Thoughts of every kind filled his head. "I'm going wif ye! I don' care wha' ye fuckin' tell me, I'm goin!" The bassist yelled. Quickly, Paul went to the bathroom and changed into something more presentable. He emerged, locked up the house and climbed inside the ambulance with Sadie.

The ambulance sped from Cavendish toward the nearest hospital. Within ten minutes, they were there. Paul climbed out of the back first. He stood off to the side, helplessly staring at Sadie's unmoving body. Tears once again streamed down Paul's baby face. One of the paramedics cleared their throat in order to gain Paul's attention, "Excuse me, Mr. McCartney?" Paul sniffed back the tears; wiping his eyes and looked up "Oh, I'm sorry." The medic smiled weakly as he spoke, "You will need to go sit in the waiting room. The doctor on call, will come find you after Miss Livingston is checked over." Without uttering two words, Paul trudged to the waiting room; looking as though a bus had run over him.

It was quarter-to-nine when a miserable looking Paul stepped foot inside the dreary, off-white and pea soup green waiting room. He hated hospitals with a bloody passion! Everything was sterile and smelled of rubbing alcohol. Slumping down in the nearest green metal chair, Paul leaned his head back against the green and white walls. Mentally, he prayed to the heavens above for his Sadie to be alright. It was not even the mid-afternoon and The Beatle felt the stress already taking its toll on him. Yawning, his eyes slowly started to droop and soon sleep took hold.

Half an hour later, commotion could be heard down the corridor. Louder and louder the voice echoed until it reached a sleeping Paul McCartney inside the private waiting room. Paul was gone from the world around him for the moment--not for long though! Standing right in front of the bassist's slumped body was none other than an irritated John Lennon! Anger shown all over his face as he violently shook Paul's arm. "Get the fuck up, ya bastard!"

"Wha? Wha's a matter is Sadie alright?" A disoriented Paul rubbed his naturally droopy eyes; scanning the small waiting area. This angered the older Beatle even more, "Bloody fuckin' 'ell, Paul! Wha' in God's name is goin' on wif ye? Yer goin bonkers ovah this bloody bird!"

Paul's eyes became wide as plates. "I'm goin' bonkers ovah this bloody girl??Sadie 'appened to stay at me place las' nigh' and when I got up this mornin', the poor girl was unconscious on me bathroom floor!" His voice raised an octave.

John, understanding a bit more of why his songwriting partner was in the hospital; calmed down. "'Orry, mate. I didn' know somethin' 'appened to her. Poor girl." Paul gave a slight nod. He wasn't in any sort of mood to start a row with his best friend. John understood and went to call Twickenham studios; to tell Brian, Dick and the rest of the entourage about the events of the morning.

A few minutes later, John returned to his songwriting partner standing straight up; talking to one of the doctors. The older Beatle slowly walked toawrd the conversation-hearing bits and pieces.

"Wait a bloody minute 'ere! Sarah is preggers?" Paul's eyes went wide as plates, whispering.