Too Late For Goodbyes

Chapter 4

"What do you mean he just disappeared! John, children don't just disappear!" Brian Epstein shouted as he paced around the sun room of the Lennon's house. John, Cynthia, Mal, Neil, Maureen, Pattie and the other Beatles were all scattered around the room.

Maureen and Pattie were trying to comfort a very pale Cynthia who was sitting on the couch staring at both Brian and John. She had been sitting like that since the morning, it was now one in the afternoon.

"I'm telling you Brian. One moment he was there and the next he was gone!" John said sternly. He too was pacing the room.

"How could someone get in here John. We put up extra protection so the fans wouldn't get inside. Even if someone manged, how could they find Julian in all this mess?" Brian asked motioning to the mess in the sun room. There were letters thrown everywhere and uneaten food and cigarette buds were scattered all over the table and floor.

John finished the cigarette he had been smoking and butted it angrily, then he lit another one.

"John mate, that's around your twentieth cigarette today, stop it" Paul exclaimed. "I know your concerned but smoking won't help".

John shot him a glance and butted the cigarette in irritation.

"Why don't we just go to the police?" George asked.

"Because," Brain said staring at him. "We don't want the press to know that John is incapable of taking care of his own child".

"First off Brian, his name is Julian. Secondly, who cares what the bloody press think! Little Jules could be dead for all we know!" Ringo blurted.

At this Cynthia's mouth fell open and she became even paler. Everyone stole evil glances at Ringo.

"What?" he asked dumbfounded.

Maureen sighed draping an arm around Cynthia's shoulders. "I'm gonna take Cyn to the kitchen, call us if anythings new." Maureen stated hoisting Cynthia up and steering her in the direction of the kitchen. The three woman went to the kitchen while the men stayed in the sun room to discus things.

"Poor Cyn" Paul said looking at the doorway the girls left through.

"Yeah, the poor girls crushed" George replied to Paul's remark.

John had stopped pacing the room and was now looking dreamily out of the window to the garden. He sighed.

"Johnny, you alright?" Paul questioned him concern.

"Hmm..." John started breaking his trance. "I'm fine, it's just..." John stopped to think mid sentence.

"What is it John?" Paul pressed.

"Never mind. I'm fine..."

"John, you wouldn't be like this if you were fine," Paul blinked. "Now, tell me what's wrong."

"Oh, I don't know Paul," John said sarcastically. "My bloody son might or might have not been kidnapped. You know not a big fucking deal at all. He also may be dead. To add to that, my fucking wife is having a bloody breakdown!" John said screaming now and breathing heavily. He hoped the girls didn't hear him.

A silence filled the room where four Beatles, their manger and two roadies were sitting.