I Learnt To Love In Liverpool | George Harrison ✅

♥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐲-𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 ♥

On our final day in New York, I was up early. I rolled over onto my side and saw that George was still snoring. I got out of bed, being careful not to wake George, and then I went into the en suite bathroom. I relieved myself and brushed my teeth, and hurried to put on the dressing gown that John had leant me on. I left the guest room and went into the front room.

"Cup of tea?" John asked as soon as he saw me. He was sipping from his own mug, but was already off of the settee and halfway out of the room before I could reply. I followed him, and went to sit on the stool in the corner of the kitchen.

"Hi," I said quietly by way of a greeting to him, "I didn't think anybody else was up."

"Neither did I," he filled the teapot and then put it on the stove. "I'm usually up this early anyway - genius strikes around now." He looked at the clock on the wall and smiled, "guess it's running late this morning."

I chuckled and watched him put the teabag into a cup, "or maybe it doesn't exist." Despite Yoko's presence, John and I had become quite close in the time that my family and I had been staying at the Dakota. It was almost like we were the two best friends back in Liverpool again.

"Cheeky!" He exclaimed, opening some of the cupboards and looking for something. He sighed after a few moments, "no biccies, I'm afraid."

I gasped, putting a hand to my chest and pretending to be deeply offended by his lack of teatime treats. "You've failed in your one mission, John Lennon!"

He shrugged and turned the hob off, "let's just go out."

"For biscuits?" I echoed in surprise and disbelief.

John shook his head, "for brekkie. You haven't had breakfast at Tiffany's, yet."

I giggled, "that really exists?" I asked, because since the film had come out, I had just assumed that it was a film and not a real shop.

John nodded, "they've got some lovely jewellery, too, y'know. You want to have a look?"

I wanted to eagerly accept. I wanted to be able to buy all the necklaces and bracelets that I wanted, but I knew that George didn't like me spending money unnecessarily. He wasn't tight with how he spent his money, but he was careful. He had never had a lot of money as a child, and despite the fact that he had been rich for ten years or so, it still felt surreal for him... though he loved to spoil the children.

John and I hurried out of the Dakota building wearing coats over our pyjamas - he had assured me that nobody would give us a second look. He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards a yellow taxi which was idling at the curb. He opened the door and pushed me into the car, climbing in after me.

The two of us were laughing.

The crisp air of late December had bitten through our coats and pyjamas, but neither of us cared. We were used to the cold; we'd suffered it for hours at a time as teenagers when we had been back home.

"Tiffany's." John told the cab driver, who grunted in reply and pulled away from the curb.

I turned to talk to John in the back of the taxi, "so what've you been up to these last few years, Lennon?"

He shrugged, "y'know."

"No." I answered, "I don't."

He sighed, "I've been 'here and there. I did a bit of art, an album or two - worked with George a bit - Yoko's been keeping me busy." I frowned at the mention of her name. "Ah, come on, Em, don't be like that. She's my wife. You have to accept her."

"I don't have to do anything, John." I told him, crossing my arms against my chest. "I tolerate her because she's your wife, and because we're staying in her house. I won't be sending her a birthday card."