Risky Woohoo

9 | Space Oddity

1957, May
—————
The funeral was held at the same church where Mary had had her's. That must've felt weird.

Time slowly flew by, and I couldn't really focus on anything. I tried to tell myself that: it's happened, you can't do anything about it. It's done and mum would've wanted you to live on. But that was so incredibly hard.

The house felt so different. No one talked to each other. No meals were eaten together and there was simply no interaction.

Many thoughts occupied my mind, especially the ones that begged the question: what would happen to us? Where would William and I go? We could live at our Aunt Lydia's, she had taken care of us when dad died. But I had the feeling that I couldn't leave the house.

I had grown fond of the McCartneys, so I couldn't just leave them. Even though I knew Jim was a responsable, grown adult and Paul wasn't even that close to mum, I felt that I needed to be there.

Something made me drag myself home everyday from school. Something at home made me get up in the morning and go on with my life, even though I almost felt like ending it.

And that something was Paul. I knew that, but I wouldn't like to admit it. Although I longed for some sort of communication between the two of us, I couldn't bring myself to talk to him.

We had grown more distant over the past month and a half. We lived our separate lives in the same room, which was driving me mad. Thankfully, he was often out with his friends so that I could have the room to myself.

He had brought his guitar down to the sitting room where Jim sat when he wasn't at the cotton factory. He played for him. Jim was very quite keen on the whole rock and roll thing, and enjoyed listening to Paul's progression.

Sometimes I would sit in my room and listen to the quiet strumming from downstairs. He was getting good. Really good, actually.
—————
It was my birthday, 17th of May.

I came home from school and had nearly forgotten. But when I glanced into the kitchen, I saw a piece of paper and a little, shining object on the table.

I slowly stepped towards it and saw it was a golden ring. And on the note it said: Happy birthday, Annelie. Love, mum & Jim. I picked up the ring and studied the engravings on the inside which simply said love.

I put it on my left ring finger and decided it would stay there until the end, whenever that would be. I took the paper and folded it neatly in two, twice.

I went upstairs and realised that no one was home. I laid on my bed and thought about the party I could be having. Music blaring, gifts ripped open, cakes and wishes. I was halfway to 30, which should be celebrated, but the mood wasn't right. No one was in a mood for anything anymore.
—————
The rest of the afternoon was spent doing nothing.

Later in the day I heard William come home. Even later I heard Jim stumbling home from wherever.

At last, when darkness had fallen upon the earth and I was in bed, Paul came silently through the door with his guitar strapped on his back.

I laid on my side and watched as he so carefully tried to get into the room without making any noise. When he had successfully made his way in, he noticed I was watching him.

"Happy birthday." He mumbled. I smiled, the first time he had said anything to me in a month. "Thank you." I managed to get out, my voice so unused to talking. He smiled back. Oh, how I had missed that smile.

"Will you play me something?" I suddenly blurted out. I suppose it was my heart speaking at that moment. He stiffened, and seemed a little confused, but proceeded to sit down on his bed and swing the guitar into his lap.

He played an unusual tune, with finger play and such. He began quietly singing at one point, but quickly stopped when he remembered I was there. I listened contently, never wanting it to end, but at last it did.

He cleared his throat as he put his guitar at the old station. He proceeded to stand and undress. I closed my eyes, knowing that it was probably what he preferred.

With his pyjamas on I watched him crawl into bed and turn to face me. We looked at each other for a while. I couldn't really take my eyes off him. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again.

He knitted his eyebrows together and it looked like he was contemplating something. Suddenly he tossed the duvet off his body and stood up. He slowly walked towards me, looking almost longingly at me. Or at each other.

I scooted to the side so that my back was against the wall and lifted the duvet. Without much hesitation, Paul lied down beside me and tucked us both in. He scanned my face for a second. "Do you mind?" I didn't know what he meant, but nodded.

He took an arm and wrapped it firmly around my waist, as if he was afraid to lose me. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of satisfaction.

"That was very beautiful, y'know?" I whispered. He smiled. "Thanks." And then we fell asleep.
———————————
Hmmmmmmmmm, alright, there's some action.

Get exited, cause ehmmmm, I don't know if you know what happened when Paul was 15? And no, I am not talking about meeting John😏