Gnik Nus

Chapter 4

It seemed that, all at once, the eight of us had become regular fixtures in 1964. It was now May and we had been here for a month. Since we had arrived, we had been out once and that was so we could each choose some clothes. Luckily Brian was not short of a quid and could afford to buy us all everything we need. It was a magical moment, exploring London, let alone 1964 London. When Adam stormed out a few weeks ago, the day Kylie warmed to us, Paul found him in the street – it was obvious he didn't want to wander too far in fear of getting lost. Paul must've said something convincing because he returned to us, in a slightly better mood. It was a relief not to have anger in the small house. When one person goes off, it usually resonates through the rest of us, creating a tense atmosphere. I had since apologised for my rant about misogyny and smoking.

Out of everyone in our little group, I was closest to Kylie, Jenny, Ben and Jack. Jenny and I subconsciously took on the role of Jack's guardians. He was only eight, after all, and needed some parental guidance. Basically, we made sure he was fed, we bathed him and helped him dress, we tried to school him the best we could and we looked after him. Jenny was a pro, having two children of her own, a six year old and a four year old, both girls. She missed them immensely. Kylie and I had become fast friends, ever since that incident a few weeks ago. I felt like I knew everything about her (I pretty much did). We had moved our beds in the lounge room next to each other. Ben was a pretty cool dude. I found it funny that when he arrived he was wearing typical eighties clothes – light blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a red jacket, complete with Nike sneakers. Now, he had been transformed into a (kinda) man of the sixties. He'd ditched the way-too-early jacket and jeans and had some trousers on instead. However, he refused to give up his sneakers, despite Brian's insistence that the style didn't exist yet.

Kylie and I wore skirts, dresses and colourful pants. I preferred to wear the pants (lounging around it's easy to flash the guys in the house) and even made Brian source out stores with shorts. The sales girl looked skeptically at Kylie and me as we eagerly picked out pairs of shorts and t-shirts. At this stage, I just wasn't comfortable in the mainstream fashion of the sixties yet, especially when we're just lounging around the apartment. Sure, they wore pants on occasions, like to the beach and stuff, but no one wore them just anywhere. I asked Brian if we could get arrested for it but he assured me not.

One particular day, we were lounging around (as we usually do). Kylie, Ben, Adam and I were playing Monopoly (although Kylie was in the bathroom at this particular moment). I was craving technology but I was coping without it. George and Ringo made a little visit to the apartment to visit us. Brian had told us that before we arrived they seldom came to his apartment, but now that we were here they visited much more frequently. He said that John and George happened to be here the day we arrived because they were finalising arrangements for their next tour and Paul and Ringo were on their way. Anyway, George and Ringo dropped by to see us. They lived in the same apartment building anyway, so they were perhaps our most frequent visitors. They plonked themselves down beside us.
"How's it going?" George asked, leaning particularly close to me.
"Uh, great," I replied, still, after all this time, uneasy about The Beatles.
"Reckon I could play?" he whispered to me. The smell of smoke on his breath overwhelmed me and it made me sad.
"Uh, George wants to play!"
"We've already started, mate," Adam said.
"Fine," George scoffed, standing up, "Ringo and I will find something else to play."
"He's just mucking about," Brian assured us.

I don't know what the two of them went off to do but about five minutes later Kylie came back into the room, acting strangely.
"Did you see that George and Ringo are here?" I asked her.
"Are they?" she asked airily, "I hadn't noticed."
"Sure you hadn't," Adam narrowed his eyes at her.
Before arriving here, Kylie barely had a clue who The Beatles were. Sure, everyone knew of them, being the most famous band ever and all, but she wouldn't be able to tell you any significant information about them. Now, she was just like a student of mine. I had taught her all she needed to know about them, up to our current time – May 1964. She wasn't advanced enough in her learning yet to know songs or events that were in the future from now, because she might accidentally mention it. It was bad enough that we had the close call the other week when she nearly blurted out about John. It was funny one time when I was educating her on With the Beatles and Paul was here. He just sat nearby listening to us, smiling in amusement.
"I think you know more about it that we do," he laughed.
"Probably. I quiz you guys on yourselves," I said.
"That would be so fun!" Ben agreed, "See how much you can really remember. I bet Sophie will win."
"We could get Brian to make up the questions and we'll have a competition! Sophie versus The Beatles!" Kylie excitedly suggested. That was a sentence I never thought I'd hear as a truth.

We hadn't pitched this idea to Brian yet, but I was becoming increasingly excited about it. It was a chance for me to show off (again) the extensive knowledge I had of these guys… thought it might also freak them out. Would it be overly fangirl-stalkerish if I beat them at this? No, no it wouldn't. That's what fans of celebrities do, right? They brush up on their knowledge, though in my case it's very deep and extensive. How was I supposed to know I was actually going to meet them? There was about a one in never chance of that happening and by sheer luck and amazement, it's happened.

I got up to go to the toilet. George was waiting in the hallway looking sultry – I did not like it at all. Normally if I'd seen a picture of George on Tumblr or something looking like this I would immediately reblog it. However, in the flesh this seemed a little creepy. He was twenty-one and I was only seventeen, which pretty much made it statutory rape, NOT that anything was going to happen.
"Goin' somewhere, Sophie?" he asked in his thick accent that I had always swooned over. He raised a bushy eyebrow as he leaned against the wall.
"Um, yes, I'm going to the bathroom," I informed him, trying to sidle past him without contact.
"Want me to join you?"
"George!" I exclaimed in disgust. It was quite loud, too, because Brian poked his head around the corner to see what was the matter.
"What on earth is going on?" he asked, "George! You're not trying to make a pass at poor Sophie are you?"
"No, Brian," George said casually, before turning back to look me in the eyes, "Never."
The word sent chills down my spine. It was the way he said it. Looking at me as if I were meat, breathing his smoky breath on me.
"I've, uh, I've got to go," he suddenly shook his head as if he had come out of a reverie. He grabbed his car keys off the dining table and rushed out the door. Brian looked as confused as I did.

"What was that all about?" Kylie asked after I returned from going to the toilet.
"Oh, nothing, it was just… George being George," I airily excused, but this brush over didn't go unnoticed by Ben. He eyed me as if to say, 'I know exactly what happened'. Well, good for you, Ben. Maybe next time you can be conveniently around to stop him from doing it, eh? No, I shouldn't expect Ben to be protecting me like this. I shouldn't expect anyone to be protecting me from George, actually. It was just a small faux pas. I'm sure it will never happen again. George wasn't feeling right… I forgive him.