'Cause I Like Him Too Much

Chapter Three

  My eyes felt warm and I could hear somebody murmuring my name. I opened my sleepy eyes and quickly got up. It was already eight in the morning and I overslept. It was Aunt Anne asking me what was I doing last night at the window in the corridor. I didn’t  answer right away but turned my head down instead. Then she told me to clean up and change my clothes and go downstairs.

When she left, I slipped out of my night gown, went to the bathroom and cleaned myself. I put on a shirt, a knee-highed black skirt. I put on my shoes and left the room. As I went down I heard Paul’s voice and it was followed by my aunt’s. They were coming from the kitchen, I decided to come in, wondering what was going on and why would Aunt Anne want me to tidy up. 

I saw my aunt, cutting some vegetables while in a middle of a good chat with Paul, who was having tea. I came in, pretending I didn’t see him as I asked, “Can I help you, Aunt Anne?”

“I’m fine. You don’t have to.”, she replied. “Your chow is waiting. Go on eat it before it gets cold.”

I saw Paul stood up, smiling. He was still wearing that jacket but underneath he wore a white shirt. “Good morning.”, he said. “It is so nice to see you again.”

“Me too.”, I sat down and stirred the bowl with a spoon. “Would you like to have some?”

“I just did. Your aunt is the bestest cook I’ve ever known.”

I heard Aunt Anne snorted. “You’re a shameless flatterer, Paul.”, she took the slices of eggplants to the sink and began soaking them with water. “You better eat it fast, Hannah. Don’t keep your friend waiting.”

“Why? Is something wrong?”, I asked Paul.

“Nothing. I would just like to  take you to the club.”, he straightened up his jacket.

Sounds great, I thought. Never been a club before. If you’re talking of socialization, let me tell you. To me, it is gathering to our porch, outside our house, all our good ol’ neighbors, my father and his colleagues playing their banjos and harmonicas. Then the rest just clap hands and sing along and dance. It is more of a family thing, compared being in a club.

“What do you say?”, he asked again.

I paused. What am I supposed to do there? Waltz around with people I barely know? I even have trouble dancing. Have a mug of beer?

“Go with him.”, I heard Aunt Anne said. “It can be very lonesome if you’ll just stay here playing your guitar. I told you. Go and meet some new friends.

“But Aun—”

“It would be good for you, trust me. Besides, Paul is there to help.”

I just nodded and continued eating. Maybe she was right. And I really couldn’t deny that I needed friends or even  acquaintances. But wasn’t Paul enough?

******

“Cavern Club.”, I read the carved letters on the piece of wood attached above the door.

“You’ll like it here.”, Paul opened the door. “Ladies first.”

  I entered and was amazed. Not as grand as the Albert Hall they call it, yet it got its beauty, with a few lights gleaming above, it looked cozy. The folks inside were marvy, dressed so nice not to mention the girls. They got beads and pearls on their necks, I couldn’t help to feel little. Look at them. And me, didn’t fit to be there. he place wasn’t so noisy as I thought. Why I expected a drunk Englishman or two, breaking the silence of the whole place. But there was none. I stood at the   side, unaware of what to do until Paul took me in the front where a man serves drinks to a few.

“How often are you here?”, I asked as I sat down and watched the bottled beverages poured in small glasses.

“We’ve been playing here for a month. We got our regular gigs.”, Paul answered.

“We?”.

Paul looked at his watch like waiting for something. “I think they might be here now.”

“Who?”, being curious I asked.

  “Pauly!”, I heard someone called from the back.

“John!”, Paul turned around. “You're already here.”

  I glanced on the man Paul called ‘John’. For another time, he had the jacket, the Teddy boy hairstyle, I was starting to think that they were brothers.

“So who’s this chick you’ve got now eh?”, John sat down with us.

Paul and I looked at each other. “This is Hannah. We met two days ago.”

“Hello John.”, I briefly said.

  “Hannah.”, John repeated as he held my hand and kissed it. “You were the damsel-in-distress  Paul rescued back at the train station. I'm, glad to meet you.”

  I smiled at him. John was undeniably attractive, that strong look of his could be a blessing in disguise. He was witty, as I thought he didn’t got a great sense of humor but I was wrong.

  “George and Ringo are probably on their way, let’s have a drink  shall we?”, John said as he called out, “Hey buddy! A three of your famous whiskey ‘ere!”

  “You’ve ordered enough Lennon.”, the waiter said, sounded a bit upset.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll give you a double as soon as we get paid.”, John bargained. “Whiskey warms up the body you know.”, John said to me.

  “Do you drink, Hannah?”, Paul asked.

  “Uh..” It’s strong bitter taste, I never liked. It burned my throat like hell before when I took sip from my dad’s bottle and it took me weeks to have my mouth get over from its ugly flavor.

  “Now what are we celebrating?”, I heard someone approaching our table.

  “Not your birthday, lad.”, John replied to the man.

“Is it your girlfriend, Paul?”, I heard the man referring to me.

  “Excuse me sir..” Knowing the man might be their friend too, I turned my back to face him. “but Paul and I are..”

  “You.”, he looked surprised. And so was I. I wasn’t able to continue what to say. Him. He was the guy back at the bakery. I didn’t expect I would see him  again and  now I just knew that him, and John and Paul are friends. So that was why they looked the same. Because they’re buddies and pals. Something inside of me told me to get out of there.