Yesterday - A Beatles Fanfic

Chapter The Twenty-Second

A/N Credit for "tiny fax machine" belongs to GeorgieClaptonxx. And... We just hit 100 reads on the first chapter! :D

A thin strip of sunlight shone through a chink in the faded old curtains. They had hung there since the day Jessie moved in. They were a deep blue, almost purple in colour, with tiny white stars scattered across the fabric. She'd chosen them because they reminded her of countless summer camping trips, lying on the grass, gazing up at the night sky.

Ted Baxter smiled as his daughter shuffled on the cold grass and leaned against his stomach. It was another clear night and with there still being a week before the Christmas holidays, they practically had free reign of the campground.

"Ever looked for constellations, Mop?" Mop was his name for Jessie. It had been her first word and soon became a frequent sound in the Baxter household. But it was about when she was two or three that the name stuck, partly because for a long time she had a tangled mop of blonde hair.

"What's connley-stations?" The five-year-old frowned, stumbling over the new word.

"Patterns in the stars, love." He ruffled his daughter's hair. "Like a big dot-to-dot."

"Show me one," Jessie whispered, her rich hazel eyes reflecting the light of the stars.

"Right, you see there?" Ted wrapped one arm around the small girl and pointed up at the night sky with the other. "That cross shaped one on its side? That's the Southern Cross."

Jessie followed her father's pointing finger and tilted her head sideways. "Like our flag?" She asked.

"That's right. The very same," he said softly, smiling fondly as she snuggled into his side.

"Love you, Dad," the girl murmured sleepily.

"Love you too, Mop."

Jessie lazily opened one eye and traced her finger over the worn fabric, drawing invisible lines between the random spread of stars. Sometimes she liked to stare at the curtains and look for the shapes of real constellations. She hadn't ever found many, but there were four stars that held a remarkable likeness to the Southern Cross that always stood out to her. Jessie had looked up at the night sky almost every night of her life, but since she'd been put into her Aunt's care, she had not seen that cross in the sky. Not in the Northern Hemisphere.

She rolled over and stretched out her legs. She couldn't imagine why she was at her Aunt's house. Was it the holidays already?

Her gaze turned to the small chest of drawers next to her bed. The small clock read quarter to ten. Her Aunt never let her sleep this late! Heck, she never knew she could sleep that long!

The clock was sitting on top of a CD.

With The Beatles

The Beatles...

Beatles! Jessie sat up. The Beatles were in her house!

She kicked the covers off and scrambled to her feet. God knows what they'd got up to in the past hour! Of course there was always the chance they'd slept late too, but she doubted it. At least one of them had to be up.

* * *

As a matter of fact, it just so happened that all four lads were well awake.

"Guys!" Ringo whined, "This tiny fax machine won't work!"

Paul looked over at him smacking the device on the table. "You nit!" He scoffed. "It's a phone!"

Originally, they had only ventured into the office room to pick through Jessie's cousin's clothes again, but curiosity got the better of them and they were poking around all the strange new technology.

"Aha!" George called triumphantly from the desk. "I got it workin'!"

"Uh, what is it, exactly?" John asked, flopping into a chair next to him.

"It's called a computer!" George grinned. "I had a go with one the other day!"

"Yeah, but what does it do?" Paul added, peering over their shoulders.

"I hate technology," Ringo grumbled from the other side of the room, pushing the phone away in defeat and walking out in a sulk.

"I don't know exactly," George said. "But there's this thing called 'Google', and it can tell ye' 'bout almost anythin'!"

"I call bullshit." John folded his arms. "Show us."

"I will."

* * *

Jessie ambled downstairs, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and heard the TV in the living room. She walked in to find Ringo alone on the rug in front of the screen, still in his t-shirt and a pair of grey pyjama pants. Some bright kids cartoon was on, but he wasn't paying much attention.

"What's up?" She said, dropping to the rug with a thud.

"They're ignorin' me," he complained, fiddling with a loose thread on his shirt. "And all this fancy-shmancy technology does me 'ead in!" He sighed. "They've all figured out phones and computer thingys... When I find it hard enough gettin' this bloody telly to work!"

The girl flicked the television off. "Hey," she smiled. "Somewhere out there, there's a little old man called Ringo Starr."

"Mhmm," he hummed, wondering where this was going.

"And y'know what?" She said. "He's absolutely nailed social media."

"Nailed?" Ringo's brow furrowed.

"That's a good thing," Jessie laughed. "Where are the others anyway?"

"I already said!" Ringo pointed up the stairs. "Messin' about with computers and tiny-fax-machine-lookin'-things!"

Jessie's eyebrows shot up. Beatles on the internet could not be a good thing! It was bad enough that John knew about his own death, but if they read the full history of the band... She couldn't imagine how the present would be affected if they took that knowledge back to the past.

"C'mon." She tugged him to his feet and practically flew upstairs. She skidded into the office and was greeted with one of the oddest sights in history. George was seated in front of her Aunt's desktop computer with John next to him. Paul was squished between them, pushing to get a view of the screen. All three were laughing uncontrollably and Paul almost had tears in his eyes.

"C-click..." John wheezed in between giggles. "Click another!"

"I wanna see!" Ringo rushed over, grudges forgotten.

"Woah!" Jessie walked, half annoyed, half concerned. "What's going on here?"

"There's these two lads..." Paul gasped for breath, rubbing his eye. "And Christ, they're hilarious!"

Jessie was about to press for further information, but there was no need. Her face melted into a smile of relief as she heard two familiar voices pour out of the speakers.

"Here we go! The whiskering begins!"

"Give me your face."

"No pressure."

"Nose pressure!"

Jessie walked over to the group and peered over George's shoulder. "Are you serious? You found Dan and Phil?"