Within You Without You ~ George Harrison/The Beatles

Chapter Six: Worries

George was still sat on the steps of their bungalow when Connie and the her group returned to the compound from the rather successful shopping trip, except he had been joined by Ringo, and so as the other women all headed back to their own bungalows, she went straight to her's. The odd feeling of lonliness she'd felt before leaving for the trip had disappeared quickly once she was in the company of the girls, leaving her hoping that maybe it had all been in her head, and that any worries she had for her marriage were stupid and irrational.

As she approached the two men sat on the bungalow porch, her footsteps caught their attention. George looked away from his guitar, a grin still on his face at a joke Ringo must have made, his gaze falling onto his wife who since the last time he'd seen her had changed into traditional Indian clothing, wearing a short white blouse and a pair of loose white trousers, a green sari draped over the top. She'd worn Indian styles the last time she'd visited the country with George, and during this visit to the Maharishi's ashram it was mandatory for them all to wear native clothes. It was meant to help them integrate into the culture of transcendental meditation but George had almost forgotten how much the traditional styles suited Connie, who had also tied her hair back into a braid, his favourite style on her. He sat staring at her for a moment, something Ringo noticed as he let out a laugh, shaking his head at how George had suddenly become speechless just at the sight of his wife.

"Y'know she is your wife, you don't have to just stare at her," Ringo muttered to George as he elbowed him in the side, holding back another laugh as Connie approached them both.

"Alright, lads?" she greeted, going to George's side as she took a seat next to him on the steps, putting her hand on his knee as he set his guitar aside, until she noticed the look on her husband's face. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing, just thought you looked nice, that's all," George answered casually, knowing that if his best friend wasn't sat with them he'd not be able to stop himself from kissing her he thought she looked that beautiful.

"Thank you, dear," she replied with a wink.

Connie felt like an old woman as she called him 'dear', like the little old ladies she used to see on the bus in Liverpool as a kid, the ones who'd refer to their husbands as nothing but dear. The strong matriarchal figures she'd grown up seeing everyday around town were always figures of inspiration to her in a strange way. A lot of them had survived two world wars, had raised families and gone to work to make ends meet. They were strong women who reminded her of what her own mother may have ended up becoming, and her respect for them often extended to her and Paul doing them jobs like fetching their shopping. It was an odd feeling she got whenever they'd go to see them, as if the lives they had were impossible. It seemed impossible to the fourteen year old Connie that one day she might be in a position liked that, with her own home, with a family, with a husband.

As a teenager, Connie used to look at those old women and think of the long lives they'd lived, when in reality, they probably weren't even that old. To a fourteen year old anyone looked old, but now she was approaching twenty six, she realised maybe life wasn't always what she thought it was going to be when she was a kid. She could remember looking at the women and thinking that surely she'd never get like them, with their husbands and their families, and someway along the line she'd started to want a life like theirs. She had her husband, the love of her life, and they had their careers and their success, now she was just left envying the family part.

Connie felt the way her mind was going and quickly snapped herself away from her thoughts. Not now, she told herself, she wasn't going to let her mind be led down the path of sadness just because a bunch of little old Liverpudlian ladies had a family and she didn't. Instead, she forced a grin, wrapping her arm around George's shoulder, using him as the perfect distraction from it all, turning her focus onto their best friend still sat beside them.