I Learnt To Love In Liverpool | George Harrison ✅

♥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐲-𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 ♥

George drove us home, and he insisted on holding my hand the entire time, moving both of our hands when he needed to change gears or the wheel required both hands.

"Dhan, what did you play with Heather?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the memory of mine and Paul's disagreement.

He humphed in reply. Nancy answered for him, "Heather drummed and Dhani sang, I played Uncle Paul's guitar and Julian played daddy's -"

"Uncle Paul's is a bass, Nancy," George corrected her kindly, looking at her in the rear view mirror before turning his attention back to the road, "it's deeper and only has four strings, remember?"

She nodded, "it looks like a guitar."

"It does," I agreed, biting my lip. "What did you sing, Dhani?"

He was silent, instead leaning his head on Julian's shoulder. I smiled at the sight of them, quickly turning my head back to look out the front window so they wouldn't notice me watching. Dhani hated people to point out when he was affectionate. It was just another quirk of his, and we all loved him for it.

* * * * *

When we got home, the children all rushed off to different corners of the house, leaving just George and I with baby Jack. George took Jack from me and said that he'd put him down for a nap, which I was grateful for, and then told me to put the kettle on. I nodded and went off to the kitchen.

Half an hour later, George returned, and he looked like he was ready to talk. "What was that about with Paul?" He asked as we sat beside each other at the dining table, the both of us with a hand wrapped around our mugs, "you two haven't fought since Dhan was born. What was it about?"

I huffed, "you know what it was about, George."

"You and Paul have disagreements all the time, but you never fight. You never leave without sorting it.Em, what's gone on?"

"With me and Paul?" I asked him. George nodded. "Nothing. He's rude, and doesn't respect you as a songwriter or a musician, really. He still treats you like the little boy on the bus, the one who he got into the band."

George sighed, "Em, you're not arguing with your brother for me, please tell me you're not."

"George," I said desperately, "you deserve to be appreciated... and Paul doesn't. You come home all the time and complain about it, and today was just the fall out."

George facepalmed, taking several seconds to compose what he was going to say next, "I think that you -" he cut himself off, looking pointedly at me now, "we," he corrected, "are under far too much stress. I think that things need to change."

"Stress?" I echoed. "What stress? We've no money problems, we have a house. We've got beautiful children, a happy marriage and good friends -"

"The band is falling apart. I'm unhappy and it's making you unhappy. Next, it'll deflect onto the children. They need to be away from all of this; this life isn't healthy for them... I think they need to be in school."

I was silent.

"Julian and Dhani at least. Maybe Nancy isn't old enough yet, but she will be in September, I think...Em, are you listening to me?"

I was staring off into the distance, focused on a spot over George's shoulder. I couldn't believe what he was saying. I knew that he had a point, of course - the children never mixed with anybody other than themselves, and occasionally Heather or Jason and Zak. I knew that they needed to learn basic social skills that they could only learn at school, but the thought of sending my babies away from me for six or seven hours everyday was one that I did not like.

"Em, y'know I'm right." George laced our free hands together, "I don't want to send them away either, but I think it's for the best..."

I nodded, biting my lip. "I-I know..." I tried to hold back the tears which were brimming in my eyes, "but t-they're m-mine... Georgie, if we send them away now, then this is where it starts, isn't it?" He cocked his head, silently asking me to elaborate, "they'll get other friends, and want to go camping. They'll start growing up and growing away from us, and then it'll be just you and me in a house waiting for them to come and visit us on the weekends."

George couldn't help but chuckle, putting his arms around me and pulling me into his chest, "Em, we want them to grow up and be independent. We want them to be their own people, have their own friends and their own interests. If we let them go now, then we're giving them the chance to become themselves... and we can be ourselves," he paused, "and I can show you how much I love you whenever I want to." He waggled his eyebrows and I giggled, unable to stop myself.

"You swine!" I teased, slapping his arm playfully but secretly loving how he always wanted to show his love for me.

"Em, if you don't want to think about it, I'll sort their school. I'll take them to get uniform, and their books, and well, I don't know what else they'll need but they'll have it all... I really think that this will be the best thing for them."

"What if they're bullied?" I asked in a quiet voice, another worry coming to my mind as I desperately tried to hold onto my children for as long as possible.

George laughed, "luv, what would they be bullied for?"

"F-for..." I trailed off, unsure if it was okay to mention the childrens' connection to the biggest band in the world and how it might affect them, "f-for The B-Beatles, Georgie..."

"Oh no, Em," George said softly, correcting me, "they're going to be adored for it. The other children will go home, mention our ones' surname,'' all of the children had George's last name despite Dhani and Julian being John's sons - George had adopted them officially, "and then their older brothers and sisters will go barmy for it.Em, they're going to have so many friends, I promise."

I sighed and let myself relax further into his arms, "I hope you're right, George, for their sakes..."