I Learnt To Love In Liverpool | George Harrison ✅

♥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 ♥

"Is she always like that?"
"Like what?" Paul asked as he led me away from John's house.

"So unpleasant."

Paul chuckled, "that's just her way... are you excited to meet dad?"
I nodded, though hesitated briefly.

"Why'd you do that?" Paul asked.

I knew what he was referring to, of course. "I just... what if he doesn't want to know me? What if he doesn't like the person I am, or how I've been brought up? What if -"

"What if I could tell you that all that is a load of bollocks right now?" My brother asked. "When dad told me about you and your mum, he most definitely didn't sound angry... he sounded sad... like he wanted to be with you both."

My heart skipped a beat. "P-Paul...?" He nodded, "how did he tell you?"

"Happy happy birthday to you!" Jim embraced his oldest child on his eighteenth birthday and grinned, unable to believe that his boy was getting so big.

"Thanks, dad!" Paul exclaimed.

"Paul..." Jim wondered how best to go about telling his son about his little sister, very quickly settling on the idea of just coming straight out with it - Jim had never been the kind to mince his words. "Today isn't just your birthday, son..."
"I know," Paul replied, "I read once that you share your birthday with about nine million other people!"

"No, Paul," his dad said, "that's not what I'm saying..." Jim sighed, "I'm saying that you have a sister, and she has the same birthday as you. She was born a year later."

Paul thought for a few seconds, mulling over what he had been told. "Y-you cheated on mum?"

"No, Paul!" Jim said, though technically he had. "I fell in love with this woman, Myrtle, in New York in 1942, and, well... you know how these things work." He trailed off, remembering the conversation he had had to have with the same man that was in front of him when he was a boy of just eleven, "and then, in June, your sister was born."

"H-have you ever met her?"

"No," Jim replied. "I haven't, and I regret it... but her name is Emeraude. Her name is Emeraude, and God, Paul, I wish that I'd put the time in to get to know her - just to write to her, even... but she doesn't know. Myrtle wanted to keep it a secret and tell her when she was old enough - eighteen, probably."

"How do you know?"

"I've been writing to Myrtle for years. I just wanted to check in on Emeraude, really."

"Have you seen a picture of her?"

"Just one." Jim reached into the back pocket of his trousers and brought out his wallet. He opened it and took out the picture of Mike and Paul. He turned it over, and on the back, there was a photo of a little girl in a swimming costume on the beach, a large seashell visible in her tiny hand. Paul took it from his dad and just stared at it for a few seconds before he reached out to stroke the photo, a tear running down his face.

"I have to meet her..."

"You will, son." Jim promised. "We both will - and Mike, too... but not until she comes to us first. We can't be the ones to tell her."

Jim took the photo back and pulled the two photographs apart, handing the one of Emeraude back to his son.

"You can keep this. I think it's high time it got passed on."

Jim kissed the top of Paul's head and then left the room.

Paul stared at the photo, an idea forming in his head almost as quickly as he could think.

Emeraude McCartney.

"We're here." Paul stopped outside of a rather normal-looking, nondescript house. He turned to me, a supportive smile on his face. "He might be mad at me for writing to you, but -"
"But it was for the best." I told him. I took a brief few seconds to embrace my brother. "Thank you, Paul."

I could hear the smile in Paul's voice as he replied, "you're a'right, lar."

And then he took my hand once again and led me up to the front door. He opened it and led me inside, kicking his shoes off in the entry hall and gesturing for me to do the same.

"Dad?!" He called. He ducked his head into the living room to see if Jim was in there, but quickly came back out again. We looked in the 'music room', but Jim wasn't in there, either. I was fascinated to see the piano in the corner of the room because I had never had my own one - instead, it had been Kevin's, and I had not been allowed to touch it. Ever.

I had taken lessons as a young child, though, and I felt that I was quite accomplished at the instrument.

"Paul!?" I heard a voice call from upstairs, "is that you!?"
"Dad's in his room." Paul informed me quietly before he led me up the stairs, still clutching onto my hand. The McCartneys' house was small, but homely and warm - it seemed different to John's house, somehow - and definitely different to my house in California, or indeed, Menlove Avenue. It just... it seemed more personal.

Paul stopped outside of a closed door and turned to me, letting go of my hand. My palms were sweaty and my heart was racing in my chest as I took deep breaths in and out, trying to calm myself.

Paul smiled, hugging me once more. "You'll be fine." He promised me. "He's been dying to meet you, I promise."

Paul knocked on the closed door. "Paul?" The same voice from before asked, "is that you?"
"Aye, dad." Paul replied, "can I come in?" When there came no reply, Paul turned to me, "wait here until I get you." I nodded and Paul opened the door a fraction, slipping inside.

I waited a few minutes, listening to the sound of Paul and Jim talking before there was a creak from a few feet away. I jumped, though managed to remain silent. I turned.

A young boy was standing there - well, he was about a year younger than me. He was almost a man.

"Are you Paul's new girlfriend?" The boy asked me. I shook my head, putting a finger to my lips to tell the boy to be quiet. He hurried over. "I'm Mike," he said in an exaggerated whisper. I giggled quietly. So this boy was my brother - that should have been obvious, really.

"I'm Emeraude." I replied to him in an equally quiet tone.

"The Emeraude from Paul's letter?" I nodded, wondering how he knew about the letter. Before I could ask, he said, "he had me post it."

I smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Postman Mike."

"And you, Letter Girl." I giggled, putting my hand over my mouth to silence the sound... but then I heard the sound of oncoming footsteps, and the doorknob in front of me turned. I took a deep breath.

I was about to meet my dad.

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