I Learnt To Love In Liverpool | George Harrison ✅

♥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐲-𝐒𝐢𝐱 ♥

31st December 1975

I sat next to Linda, who was nursing a glass of champagne and had been doing so for the last hour or so. I nudged her side.

"You're not, y'know, are you?" I asked, gesturing to her now flat champagne.

She looked at the glass and it took several seconds for her to cotton onto what I was saying. She laughed, "no! I'm just driving home tonight and I don't want to be too drunk with the kids in the car."

"You're welcome to stay, Lin." I told her, "you, Paul and the kids. There's always room, and if there aren't enough beds then George and I will take the settee or something."

She chuckled, "yes, I can just imagine Paul taking the bed that you and George sleep in."

I giggled, "now you mention it, I suppose he wouldn't." I paused, "probably afraid he'd pick something up in there -"

"And would he?" Linda asked, raising an eyebrow.

I gasped in mock-horror and then elbowed her once more, "come on, Lin, y'know me. I'm saintlike."

Ringo, who was sitting on the armchair across from me but was closest to Linda and I, snorted. "More like un-saintlike, Em."

I gasped again, "Ringo Starr! You've got the wrong idea about me -"

"You do have four kids." Linda reminded me.

"Well I only carried three of them." I paused, "besides, George is pushing for another one in the new year."

Ringo groaned, "d'you have to talk about that kind of stuff?" He asked, "I've just got out of one marriage and that was exhausting enough, I don't need to hear about yours as well -"

I frowned, "ah come on, Rings," I teased, "you know you love it -"

He got up and left the room, pushing past Mick Jagger, who was in the corner of the room talking to Pattie Boyd, a friend of mine from when I had been pregnant with Dhani. I actually preferred her sister, Jenny, but she lived in America with her husband, Mick Fleetwood of Fleetwood Mac.

"What's his problem?" Linda asked me quietly, referring to Ringo.

"Him and Maureen got a divorce, I think he regrets it."

"But weren't they both unfaithful?" Linda asked.

I nodded, humming in reply. "I think they love each other really - or he loves her, anyway. Besides, what's a marriage without a bit of playing around?"

Linda's jaw dropped. "You don't mean...?"

"Oh no," I said, "George would never..." I avoided the subject of Paul and Linda's marriage, because my brother had been known to cheat on girlfriends before; Dot Rhone and Jane Asher were the first two girlfriends that came to my mind. We sat in silence for a few moments. Linda gulped at her champagne and quickly finished the glass. "Do you want another baby, Lin?" She thought for a few seconds. "I'm not sure I do."

She hummed in reply, "I just want Paul to be happy," she answered, which was one of the things that I liked about her - she always put Paul, Heather, Mary and little Heather first and ahead of herself, "he's always wanted a big family."

I nodded. "I promised Georgie that I'd never say no to having more children with him."

Linda asked, "so should I assume that I'm going to be the godmother of baby Harrison number five?"

I sighed, "y'know you and Paul are always godparents - you won't believe what John asked me, by the way."

"Oh!" Linda exclaimed, "I forgot to ask how New York was!"

"It was good," I told her honestly. "I would have liked to have Christmas in my own house, but it was nice to be with John again - it was like it was when we were kids, y'know?" She shook her head. Of course she didn't know. I shrugged, "well, it was like there wasn't any hostility."

She smiled, "I'm sure that was nice. I know Paul is still very angry with John -"

"John spoke highly of him whenever he came into conversation." I assured her, "he was talking about asking the two of you and the children over, actually." I paused, "but anyway, Lin, you won't believe what John asked me and George to do."

"Do tell." She giggled, gesturing to one of the servers that George and I had hired for the night for another glass of champagne.

"He asked us to be Sean's guardians." I paused, "that means that if anything happens to them, then Sean would come to us."

Linda teased, "another Lennon baby under your roof, then?"

"Well I hope nothing happens to the two of them, obviously." I told her, "but she doesn't even like me, and they've asked George and me to take care of their son if they can't."

Linda let out a deep breath as the waiter handed her another glass of champagne, "that's heavy."

I nodded, "it is... he took me for breakfast at Tiffany's - just us - and gave me this gorgeous watch," I showed it to her. She gasped, holding my wrist in one of her hands as she examined it, "and we talked a bit. Like friends. It was really nice... and then he asked me if we'd be Sean's guardians. Oh, Lin," I cried, "you should have seen him - he was so vulnerable. It was so un-John."

"It sounds like you had a breakthrough."

I sighed, "I think he just realised how lonely it is when he only has Yoko and Elton John."

"Em!" George charged into the room, stone cold sober. He had given up drinking the last year or so, claiming that it made his songwriting better. I didn't push him on it. He shocked everybody with how loud he was, but nobody mentioned it. There were so many people in the room that I wondered how he had even been heard over the sound of their chattering. But he saw Linda and I on the love seat in the bay window. He rushed over and came to stand in front of me. "Our song is playing outside," he told me, "will you dance with me?"

"Outside?" I echoed. He nodded, "but Georgie, it's -"

"I know it's cold. I know we're supposed to be expecting snow, but it's our song and I would love to bring in the new year with you in my arms."

He held out his hand. Without hesitation, I took it. I handed Linda my flute of champagne and she giggled, waving goodbye as George dragged me out into the garden.

Sure enough, our song was playing. The children were all sitting outside wearing their parents' coats and hats and scarves, and they all looked adorable. I saw my four, and Paul and Linda's three. Roger Daltrey had brought his three oldest children, leaving his newborn daughter at home with a governess, and Mick Jagger had only brought his daughter, Karis, who was five. Maureen had not let Ringo bring Zak and Jason and Lee to the party. There were other children but I didn't know exactly who they had come with.

George took me into his arms and quietly told me to rest my head on his shoulder. I did just that and he kissed the back of my neck.

Shivers ran down my spine and he chuckled as he felt my body move against his.

"I knew that would get you going." He teased quietly.

We began to sway to the music, no rhythm between us. Neither of us were dancers.

"You always get me going, Georgie." I told him honestly, a slightly seductive edge to my tone.

"You're a minx," he said, "be careful what you say next, or we might not make it until the end of the song -"

"You might not, you mean." I teased, "misfire, Georgie?" I giggled.

"You little -" he cut himself off, pulling away from me, "get upstairs now." I giggled again and turned and ran off, George slapped my arse as I went. I shrieked in delight and disappeared inside, ignoring the children asking me why I had made such an odd sound.