Yesterday - A Beatles Fanfic

Chapter The Thirteenth

It was at that moment that George really realised the scale of his situation. He stood there outside the corner shop, staring at the newspaper. It crumpled in his shaky hands. Then question after question swirled around in his head. How could this be? How would he get home? Jessie must have known, but did the others? What were they doing right now?

One thing remained clear to him: he was trapped in Liverpool, fifty years in the future.

He had to be careful. God only knows what would happen if he was recognised! Sure, the chance that they'd mistake him for actually being George Harrison was slim - it would seem impossible to them - but he was still worried.

Keeping his head low, he walked briskly down the street. He even darted into a store and purchased a cheap hat. There were lots of new, modern shops, but there were also some that seemed almost the same as they'd been in 1965. One of these being 'Reid's Records - Proudly Locally Owned Since 1945'. Curious, and also hoping for some familiar comfort of old Liverpool, he pushed through the dusty glass door.

Inside, he breathed out a long sigh of relief. There were stacks of records piled up on every available surface - just as he remembered. Music he'd never heard before played quietly in the background, but he quite liked the sound of it. There were also racks containing much smaller records in square plastic cases. Of course, CDs were an advance in music he had yet to experience.

He heard a voice behind him call out. "Can I help you find anything today?"

Keeping his face turned away, George answered, "Erm, no thanks. Just browsin'." He then proceeded to flip through a stack of records in what he hoped looked a meaningful manner. There were lots of artists he'd never heard of, but he did recognise quite a few names. Then curiosity got the better of him and he turned his attention to the strange little records on the rack. He opened one up and stared at the shiny disk inside. If it was a record... Then how on earth could it play? There were no grooves in the smooth silver surface whatsoever!

Shrugging, he flipped the case shut and glanced at the cover. "Who's this Beiber fellow anyway?" He muttered. "Looks a right prick, stealing our hair!"

"A fan of Justin are ye'?"

George jumped a little and shoved the CD back in its place. He looked up at the shop assistant who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. He looked a pleasant enough man. He had a kind face with a mischievous grin, and dark hair longer than George's. A rough beard of stubble covered the lower part of his chin.

"Erm, no! No that I know of." He said hurriedly. "I've actually never heard him before."

"Take it from me," the man laughed. "Ye' don't want to. 'Less you're into trashy pop like all those teen girls."

George refrained from snorting with disgust. The girls were going crazy for this guy? "I was just wonderin' what's up with 'is hair." He smiled.

The man curled his lip as he looked at the CD. "This is an old one. Said it was his 'all original style'. But if you ask me, it's them Beatles who did it first!"

George gulped nervously, suddenly aware of his own hair under his hat. He was treading on dangerous ground here. This man knew his stuff! "Erm, yeah!" George nodded. "Like them, do ya?"

The shop assistant paused. "Yeah, s'pose I do." Then he narrowed his eyes. "Y'know... Ye' really do look like one of 'em."

George tried to hide the fact he was panicking. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Ye' look like that Harrison fellow."

"Oh, I erm... I get that a lot. Distant... third cousin of sorts, ye' see. On me Mam's side." He explained, hoping the man was convinced.

"Aw, mate." The man grinned. "What I'd give to be related to a Beatle!" He then walked away to the front counter to tend to another customer, tapping his finger against his belt to some tune in his head.

As he left the store, a new song started playing. George cocked his head and listened. That sounds like Paulie! He thought. Wonder when he'll end up thinkin' of it...

He walked along the pavement, humming to himself.

Let it be, let it be

Let it be, let it be

Whisper words of wisdom,

Let it be.

* * *

"...twinkle, twinkle- HOLY SHIT!" John yelled, abruptly ending the song.

It had worked. The four of them were all standing together in what used to be Mimi's kitchen. Except it had gone through some modern renovations.

Jessie felt a little nauseated after their ordeal. "Urp- 'scuse me guys." She mumbled as she stumbled to the kitchen sink. She swayed on her feet, but didn't throw up after all.

Then they heard a woman yelling from the top of the stairs. "I said get out!" The lady stormed down the stairs, waving a broom angrily. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw them. "Ba-bu-be-Beatles!" She gabbled. Then she laid eyes on Jessie behind them. "You! It's you!" She whispered, taking a step back, pointing at the girl with one trembling finger. Then she collapsed on an armchair.

"What is she on about..." Paul started, turning around. "Woah! Hey, Jessie."

John stared in shock. "Sh-she ain't a little kid!" He murmured.

It was true. Much to her relief, Jessie was back to her normal self. She actually hadn't changed much. Her hair was browner, her face wasn't quite so round, and she had a light sprinkling of acne across her nose. She also now stood just half a head shorter than Ringo. Fortunately, she had all her teeth back as well. But other than that, she still resembled the little seven year old she'd been for the past few days.

"Yeah... This is me. Actually me." Jessie said, grinning. She was glad she'd been wearing her own clothes rather than John's old jeans while they jumped through time - that may have ended in an embarrassing situation.

Ringo prodded the woman. "Erm, is she gonna be alright?" He asked, concerned. "And why'd she recognise ye'?"

Jessie knelt down beside the woman. She looked to be somewhere in her late fifties or sixties, with short wispy grey-brown hair. A metal bracelet around her wrist listed medical conditions. "I have no idea, Ringo," Jessie said. "Unless..." She scanned the metal disk on the bracelet. "Does the name Rebecca Simons ring any bells?"

Paul and Ringo shook their heads, but John whipped his head around. "Rebecca Simons?" He said sharply. "That bird who looked at the house had a kid called Rebecca. Went by the name of Simons too." He looked closely at the wrinkled face. "She said she'd seen you, Jess."

Jessie had a flashback of standing on the bed by the window, and locking eyes with that little girl. "Guess they bought the house then!" She grinned. Then the woman in the chair groaned and started moving. "We better get outta here." She said, motioning to the front door. "We gotta find George before he gets into trouble!"