"Brilliant boys! I think that's the one." George Martin spoke to the boys from the mixing room where I was sat with my uncle waiting to be put to work.
"I think we did it this time boys." John spoke into the microphone in a high girly voice.
"Yeah." Paul agreed in a low voice while doing an American accent.
"Was the guitar bit okay?" George asked their producer seemingly unsure of himself.
"I thought it was rather splendid." John replied speaking with the Queen's English.
Paul began to imitate a higher end Londoner with a snobby laugh making the rest of them join in, until what they were saying was almost incomprehensible. I watched in amusement, it was like television without commercials.
"-okay, A Hard Day's Night, take one." Mr. Martin said after finally getting them focused again.
I looked over to my uncle who was gazing down at the boys with great concern, a slight sweat beginning to break out on his forehead from stress.
As their manager Brian was always on edge because of the boys personalities and always trying to be prepared for what they'd do next, they were an unpredictable group, but that was part of the thrill.
In the mixing booth there was only George Martin, their engineer Norman Smith, Brian, and I. Brian said he didn't always sit in on their recording sessions but whenever he didn't have other engagements he would listen in.
Pattie had left the studio before they had begun, the boys had a rule that their girlfriends and wives weren't allowed in the studio. I wasn't completely opposed to it, Pattie and I didn't seem like we would get it on all that well.
"When I get home to you, I find the things that you do-oh Crap-will make feel o-oh-kay." John began to giggle after having a voice crack while singing "I find the things that you do".
"You know I work all day, to get you money, to buy you things." John spoke like an announcer continuing to play making them all crack up.
"Oh yes he does girl, but money can't buy him love." Paul sang coarsely making everyone laugh.
"Is it always this," I began to ask as I looked over to my uncle with a bright expression.
"Difficult? Foolish?" He asked rubbing his forehead.
"I was going to say fun." I laughed at the exhausted look on Brian's face.
"Yeah, fun." He nodded unimpressed.
I remained quiet throughout the recording watching them intently, my thoughts of my father in the back of my mind gnawing at my conscious. It became more and more apparent as time went on, was he waiting for a call? I doubt he was, I just couldn't shake the feeling.
"I'm, going to the bathroom." I explained myself before standing up and grabbing the purse I had brought with me and slinging it over my shoulder.
Brian nodded as I left out the mixing room doors and into the hallway, weaving through various hallways until I found the front receptionist desk.
"May I use your telephone?" I asked the young brown haired receptionist who seemed to be not much older than myself.
"Of course." She beamed.
I fished out the crumpled business card from my jacket pocket and dialled the number after the receptionist had given the telephone to me. I waited anxiously for him to pick up, my stomach was knotted uncomfortably and I was conflicted whether I should be angry or glad I was about to talk to my father again.
