Take Care (standard:romance, 0 words)
Author: MaccaLover2001	Added: Jul 11 2001	Views/Reads: 3462/2461	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Joan, a teenage girl gets lost in the Alps during the filming of the Beatles new movie, Help! The Beatles rescue her, and a romance develops, but between who? How will another threaten their relationship?

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

just in time, because Paul had just swung the door open. There stood 
Eppy, looking rather annoyed, and with a large lump on his head from 
the snowball he was hit with. “Boys! I was starting to think that cabin 
ate you! Why did it take so long?” he said. “Umm... we were eating 
dinner.” John replied, quickly thinking up an answer. Lucky Eppy 
couldn’t see the table, which didn’t have a bit of food on it. Eppy 
looked satisfied with that explanation, and continued. “I was coming up 
here to make sure you weren’t getting into trouble, but since you’re 
eating, I’ll go back to my cabin. Behave yourselves now, boys!” he 
said, and left. After closing the door, Paul said, “That was close!” 
“You don’t know how close, Paul! The girl started to scream when she 
woke up!” Ringo said. “She’s in the bedroom now. Let’s go see her. I 
promised an explanation.” George told them, and they all tramped into 
the bedroom. 

CHAPTER FIVE: “So I was unconscious? I do remember getting really cold.
So, who are you guys anyway?” the girl said, pretending not to know who 
she was sitting in front of. She got the response she had expected: 
four startled faces. “I’m kidding. You’re John, this one’s Paul, that’s 
George, and he’s Ringo. I’m Joan.” laughed the young woman. Paul 
smiled. “You got us!” he joked. Noticing she was wearing different 
clothes than before, Joan asked, “How did I get these on?” The four 
young men grinned, but not one of them would answer. Joan got the 
point. “Ohhh.... OK, then. Now, George, you said that Eppy would get 
mad if he found me. Why?” the teen asked. George said sullenly, “He 
told us all to stop messing about and concentrate on the movie we’re 
making. Then Johnny here got mad, and those two fought for a while, but 
Eppy won. Let’s just say now is not the time to get him angry again.” 
The others nodded. “It would cost us too much.” Ringo added. Trying to 
change the subject, Paul turned to Joan. “What brought you here in the 
first place? It’s not often we meet birds all alone on a mountain.” 
“Well,” Joan started, blushing furiously. Suddenly, the telephone rang, 
cutting off her thoughts. There was a noisy racket as the four band 
members raced to the phone, then fought over who would answer it. Joan 
was glad for the abrupt cut-off to her explanation. The real reason she 
had come to the Alps was to see the Beatles. Finished with his phone 
conversation, John came back over to the bed where Joan was sitting, 
closely followed by the other three Beatles. “That was Eppy.” he said, 
then continued. “He said that the news forecaster predicts one heck of 
a storm tonight, maybe even a blizzard. I bet he just wants a day off 
the set.” John snorted. “All because he got hit in the head with a 
snowball.” 

CHAPTER SIX: However, Eppy wasn’t lying. A blizzard hit, and a massive
one at that. The air outside was so full of snow and windy that you 
couldn’t see an inch in front of you. Several trees had begun to bend 
over with the weight of the snow on top of them. The storm raged on for 
hours, never ceasing. The windows rattled, snow piled up outside, and 
John cursed. He knew as well as all of them that they were going to be 
snowed in. “Darn bloody mountain weather! Shoot to you, you dang 
blizzard.” he growled as he paced in front of the frosted-over 
windowpane. The others took no notice of him, and instead, played cards 
with Joan. John joined in the second game, still rather cross at the 
world. Five games later, the storm still showed no signs of letting up. 
Joan sighed. “Well, look on the bright side boys. You get to sleep in 
tomorrow.” John looked at her slyly, grinned, and said, “Who said we’d 
be sleeping?” Joan blushed once more, taking the hint she was being 
given. “Oh shut up you!” came a voice from the other side of the room. 
“Leave her be! She’s probably dead tired from all she’s been through 
today!” Paul added to his first statement. John smirked, but didn’t say 
anything else about it. It’s a good thing my mother cannot see me or 
hear what he just said. Joan thought to herself. “well, I’m going to go 
to bed.” she stated, rose, and walked off to the bedroom, with four 
sets of eyes watching her. 

CHAPTER SEVEN: Joan awoke in the morning to the smell of tea, and smoke
from a fire. Odd, she thought. Mother hates tea, and we hardly ever 
build fires. Then Joan remembered where she was, and whom she was there 
with. Before she could think of anything else, a voice interrupted her 
thoughts. Or, rather, four voices. “Good morning, Jo-oh-oh-oan.” sang 
the voices in unison. “Oh stop it you four! Have you been watching me 
all night?” Joan said to the four men in her doorway. “I haven’t, but 
they might have been!” Ringo joked. “Nope, but we weren’t sleeping 
either. Amazing you can with garbage disposal over here snoring!” Paul 
replied, pointing at Ringo. “Well, who was the one who kept saying, 
‘Let’s check on her?’ all night long, eh, Macca?” Ringo said. Paul 
didn’t have an answer this time, instead, he looked at the floor. “Got 
you that time, didn’t he, Paulie?” John laughed. Paul glared at him. 
“Alright, let’s get out of her room so she can get dressed, and 
showered and such!” George told all of them. John made a pouting face 
and whined, “Awww, do we have to?” Joan threw a pillow at his head, and 
commanded, “Get out, you naughty boys!” “She’s starting to sound like 
Clang!” John said, and started walking down the hall, mocking their 
movie’s villain. Ringo ran after him, followed by George. Paul stayed a 
bit. “Don’t mind him, luv.” Paul told her. “He’s like this all the 
time. That’s John for ya.” Joan walked up closer to him, and his 
gorgeous brown eyes searched her’s. Joan nearly melted under his gaze, 
but regained herself, and said, “It’s okay. I don’t think I’d like John 
as I do if he acted any other way.” Some emotion flickered across 
Paul’s eyes, and he said in an odd tone, “Well, I’m going to go join 
the lads for breakfast. See you in a while, Joan.” As he walked away, 
Joan couldn’t help but remember the flicker of emotion in his eyes, and 
the way he walked out of the door, he seemed less like himself, but 
Joan found herself unable to describe the change. 

CHAPTER EIGHT: At the breakfast table, the other three Beatles noticed
the same thing Joan had about Paul, but they could tell what it was. 
The flicker that Joan had noticed in his eyes had returned, and was now 
lingering. Paul was unnaturally quiet, and seemed to have lost his 
appetite. Ringo was the first to say something. “What’s the matter 
Paul?” Paul looked up from the table, which he had been staring at, and 
answered. “Nothing.” Ringo looked at the others, without words saying 
to them, No, it’s something. This isn’t the Paul I know. The looks they 
gave back clearly said, We know. Something’s bugging him. This time 
John tried to talk with him, as he could usually get Paul to tell him 
anything. “Paul,” John started, but Paul cut him off with an “I said 
nothing!” That moment, Joan walked in, and the other three Beatles 
noticed a battle going on in Paul’s eyes. He seemed to force the 
‘something’s wrong’ emotion out of his eyes, and replace it with a 
different emotion. Only the other three men knew better. There was no 
emotion in this new look, and Paul was hiding something. Joan looked at 
the four young men sitting there, completely silent, and became uneasy. 
Something was wrong, but she didn’t want to bring it up, so she tried 
to start a conversation. “Are we snowed in?” she asked. “For a few 
days, at least. Probably more like a week or two, considering everybody 
else is snowed in.” George replied. “Looks like I’m staying here with 
you guys then.” Joan sighed, pretending that this was horrible news. 
After breakfast, John went to talk with Paul. 

CHAPTER NINE: Paul was lying on his bed, the same ‘something’s wrong’
look in his eyes once  more. “Macca, it’s about the girl, isn’t it?” 
John said, not bothering to play around before he asked. Paul sighed. 
“Yeah, it is.” he admitted. John continued his string of questions. 
“What about her then? Did she do something to you?” Paul refused to 
answer the first question, giving his best friend in the world only 
silence, but the expression in his face and eyes grew even stronger. 
John hated to see Paul torture himself like this. It was almost as if 
they were connected in their friendship. John could feel his friend’s 
pain, but he also knew he couldn't force Paul to tell him anything. 
Lennon sighed, and told his friend, “When you decide to tell me, I’m 
gonna be in my room.” With those words, he left Paul alone with his 
thoughts. At least Paul thought he did. John waited outside of his 
door, listening in case he said something, and John was rewarded by a 
voice coming from inside his friend’s room. “She probably hates me. I 
mean, she told me that it was John she liked best, and I’ve got to stay 
out of her way. If she likes John best, then I’ve got to let her have 
John! I’m just not sure if I’m going to be able to, because, I really 
care about her...” The voice broke off, and John sank to the floor. He 
loves her, he thought. and she loves me, but, I don’t love her. I care 
about her as a friend, but I don’t love her. “What am I going to do?” 
he moaned aloud. 

CHAPTER TEN: Paul was not at lunch that day, and the others discovered
he had locked himself in his room. “Is something wrong with him?” Joan 
asked, worried. George quickly replied, “He’s just not feeling well. 
He’ll probably be out by dinner, definitely out by tomorrow.” John 
thought to himself, George doesn’t know just how bad he’s feeling. John 
hadn’t told anybody what he had overheard, though he wanted to. John 
tried several times throughout the day to get Paul to let him in, but 
he wouldn’t even answer when John knocked. At first, John was torn by 
his friend’s sadness, but soon, he started to get angry so he wouldn’t 
cry himself. “Dang bloody bloke! He’s killing himself by not coming out 
or letting one of us in!!” Lennon roared in the living room of their 
cabin. The others simply watched, letting him go on about it. Ringo and 
George knew something was seriously wrong, and that John knew what it 
was. Poor Joan only thought that Paul was sick. “John, let me try and 
go in.” she interrupted softly. John halted his pacing, and stared at 
her, his mind racing. Of course!! Why hadn’t I thought of it before!! 
If any of us can get him to come out, she can!! “John, she’s right you 
know. He might let her in, if not us.” Ringo agreed. John gave his 
permission, and Joan walked to Paul’s door, and knocked. 

CHAPTER ELEVEN: An angry noise came from the other side of the door. “GO
AWAY, JOHN!!” it yelled. Joan sighed, and replied, “Paul, it’s not 
John.” “Then who is it?” Paul snapped. He was so frustrated that he 
couldn't hear the voice, only the words that were being said by the 
person on the other side of his door. “Joan.” the other voice told him. 
The door swung open, revealing a red-eyed, disheveled Paul sitting on 
the bed. Joan rushed over to him. She had never seen, nor imagined Paul 
ever being like this. “Paul, what’s the matter?” A new emotion 
flickered across his eyes: fear. Fear that she would find out what 
really was the matter, and so he told a lie. “It’s John.” Joan was 
shocked, and asked, “What did he do?” Fear and hurt filled his eyes. He 
had betrayed John, and now Joan wanted to know what his best friend in 
the world had done to hurt him. He searched for words frantically, 
“I... I... can’t tell you, luv.” he finished, hanging his head, letting 
the famous Beatle haircut cover his eyes, letting it hide his emotions. 
Joan grew extremely worried and said, “Yes, you can Paul, and I need 
you to tell me.” Paul looked up, and Joan was startled by his eyes. The 
brown eyes that made him widely known as the cutest Beatle were blurred 
by tears, and covered with a mask of sadness. “I can’t Joan. I can’t.” 

CHAPTER TWELVE: Joan had succeeded in getting Paul to come out of his
room, but she had never learned the secret that John knew too well. The 
secret that smacked him in the face every time he looked at either one 
of them. This particular afternoon they were all getting ready to sit 
down at lunch. Ringo and George were already sitting, with a chair 
between them. John was leaning on the counter, drifting off in his 
thoughts when he realized how perfectly his two friends had arranged 
themselves. Snapping out of his trance, he leapt up, and sat down in 
the chair right before Paul did. Paul looked down at him, and said, 
“You’ve been acting really weird lately, Johnny.” John only grinned 
devilishly, and watched as Paul went to sit by Joan. It didn’t take him 
two minutes to realize, however, that his plan wasn’t going to work. 
Paul was totally ignoring Joan. God, Paul! Look at her, talk to her, do 
something!! he yelled in his mind. When nothing at all happened, John 
sighed loudly, and Ringo said, “Paul’s right, you know. You’ve been 
acting really weird. Are you getting sick, Johnny?” “I might be, you 
never know.” he said. This earned him odd looks from the entire table, 
but Paul’s was different from the others. His mind was racing, 
thinking, He’s acting like this because of Joan. He won’t sit by her 
because he doesn’t want her to know he likes her. Then he reminded 
himself, but I’m not supposed to interfere. Joan is John’s. I’m not 
supposed to mess with that. Joan’s mind was racing too, but for a 
different reason. 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: The rest of the day was exactly the same. Paul ignored
Joan, and Joan grew quieter and quieter. Finally, when it was time for 
bed, Joan could stand it no longer. Paul had said good night to 
everyone except her! Very upset, she ran to John’s room, sobbing. He 
caught her in his arms, and said, “Joan, luv, what’s the matter, 
darling?” “It’s Paul!!” she cried, “He hates me, doesn’t he, John?” 
John was shocked, and angry with his friend. Darnit, Paul! Why couldn't 
you just pay some attention to her? he thought angrily. “No, luv, 
you’re wrong. Paul doesn’t hate you.” John told Joan. She looked up, 
her face red and tear-streaked. “He doesn’t?” she asked. “No, luv, no.” 
John reassured her. Joan looked happier, but was still troubled. As 
soon as she was able to stop crying she rested her head on John’s 
shoulder, and told him, “I don’t know what I could do if he hated me, 
John. I love him, I really do.” John was shocked beyond all means. He 
had heard Paul say that Joan loved him! He could find no words to 
answer, so he simply held Joan in his arms. Walking down the hall, Paul 
suddenly remembered that he needed to borrow a pen from John. He turned 
around, walked to his friend’s room, and swung the door open. “’Ey, 
Johnny, could I...” Paul started, then saw John standing there, holding 
Joan. Horrified, he backed out of the room, saying, “Oh, sorry, 
nevermind.” When he got to the hallway, he turned and ran to his room, 
John yelling after him, “Paulie, wait!! Stop Paul!!” 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Paul slammed the door of his room, and threw himself
upon his bed. He tried to choke back the tears, telling himself that he 
knew it was going to happen, and that it was John that Joan loved, not 
him. That only made things worse for poor Paul. He buried his head in 
the pillows, and let his emotions take over. He sobbed uncontrollably 
for about an hour, before he could finally think straight. Sitting up, 
he shook his head, trying to get his hair to lay straight, but it was 
no use. The moptop stuck up in every way imaginable, and wasn’t about 
to lay flat. He got up, and walked into the bathroom, and looked in the 
mirror. Staring back at him was a puffy-eyed, sad looking fellow, 
without a care for his appearance, or his life, for that matter. This 
had to be the worst day of his life, and he couldn't talk about it to 
anyone. They just wouldn’t understand. Turning his head around, and 
walking about the room, Paul searched for a way out of his misery. 
Looking at his window, Paul got an idea. He opened the glass, and a 
pile of snow poured in. Taking one look back at the door that would 
lead him to his friends, and Joan, he sighed, and climbed out of the 
window, stepping on top of the hard, icy snow. Shivering, he began to 
walk over the layer of ice on top of the snow. Within minutes, Paul had 
disappeared from sight. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Hearing the sound of John’s yells for Paul, a startled
George and Ringo ran into John’s room, nearly crashing into each other 
at the doorway. Finding a John that was about to go mad, and a weeping 
Joan, they said, “What’s happened?” at the same time. John only shook 
his head and cursed, and Ringo repeated the question. “He’s gone and 
locked himself in his room again, and it’s all my fault!!” Joan wailed. 
John shook his head and said, “No Joan, it’s my fault as well.” Joan 
shook her head fiercely, and ran to her room, shutting the door behind 
her. George sighed, and asked John, “What is it with Macca?” “I don’t 
know!” John snapped. Ringo grew angry, a rare thing for the drummer. 
“Yes you bloody do know!! Me’n George have known that you knew since 
the first time that Paul locked himself in his room!” John looked up 
from the floor angrily, and glared at them, at a loss for words. 
Finally, he spat, “It isn’t for you to know! Now leave him the bloody 
heck alone!” Frustrated at their hot-tempered friend, George and Ringo 
left, slamming the door loudly behind them, and knowing that Paul would 
be too moody to deal with right now, made their way to Joan’s room. 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: After a while, Joan let the pair in, and shut the door
behind them. She didn’t want John to come in right now. She did not 
really feel like talking to anybody right now. Tears clouded her eyes, 
and she sat on her bed, rocking back and forth and crying. The two 
young men in her room weren’t sure whether to try and comfort her, or 
to cry themselves. Things were going so terribly wrong for the band. 
After a while, they decided that it was best to leave the weeping Joan 
alone, and they both went to bed, sporting heavy hearts. Meanwhile, 
Paul trudged through the snow, his suit soaked. He shivered 
uncontrollably from the cold. He had lost all hope, all will for life 
and faith in himself. The second youngest Beatle found the light 
growing dimmer and dimmer. With a heartless motion, he fell in the 
snow, wishing he had never left the cabin. He needed John, the friend 
that was so much like a big brother to him. He wanted to see Joan, no 
longer caring that she liked John instead of him. Exhausted, drenched, 
and freezing, Paul fell unconscious in the winter landscape. The next 
morning, the four ate breakfast in silence. Paul did not join them. 
Nobody looked at what they were eating, nor did they eat a lot of it. 
Everything seemed tasteless in their unhappiness and confusion. The 
empty chair next to John reminded him of how terribly he had just hurt 
his best friend. Suddenly John wanted to throw up. He had just upset 
the friend he had known forever more than he could ever know, and he 
was sitting here, eating breakfast. He stood up from the table, and 
went to Paul’s room. The others took no notice, knowing that one of 
them would get up and leave eventually. It was only when an anguished 
cry came from the bassist’s room did they look up and run to John’s 
side. 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: “He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone!!” John was moaning.
Ringo and George were searching the room, and looking out the open 
window, which had a tremendous melting pile of snow positioned below 
it. Joan was standing at the open doorway in shocked silence. John was 
almost in hysterics. “We’ve got to find him! Oh, God, Paul, if anything 
happens, I’ll never forgive myself!” he yelled, running about the room, 
joining Ringo and George’s hopeless search. Joan looked out the window 
once more, and noticed the slight footprints in the crust of ice on the 
snow. “Oh God!” she cried, “He’s gone out the window!” The other three 
joined her, silently staring at the blank horizon that had swallowed up 
their friend. “I’m going after him!” Joan said, climbing out the 
window, sliding on the ice. George, John, and Ringo followed her, 
saying, “You can’t go alone, we’re coming with you.” Soon the troop had 
covered the distance to the spot where Paul had fallen, and were 
starting to become downhearted. As they dragged along, George’s boot 
hit something in the snow. “Ow! Shoot!” he cried, jumping up and down 
in the drifts. Ringo dug at the spot where George had hit something, 
and uncovered the face of Paul McCartney, frozen in much the same way 
they had found Joan. 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: “Oh my God, Paul!” John exclaimed. “He’s dead, he’s
dead, he’s dead! What am I going to do, he’s dead!!” “Shut up Johnny! 
He isn’t dead, he’s unconscious!” Joan told him. George ran back to the 
house through the snowdrifts, and returned dragging a large sled. Ringo 
and John lifted the cold, unresponsive Paul onto it, and they returned 
to the cabin as quickly as they could in the falling snow. Paul awoke 
sometime later. He was warm and dry, but his head hurt terribly. He sat 
up with his hands on his aching head. “Ughh, I need a ciggie.” he 
moaned out load. Someone rushed over to his bed, and Paul recognized 
Joan’s voice saying, “No cigarettes for you, Paul. You’re in bad enough 
shape as it is.” His vision was unclear, and he couldn't quite make out 
her face. “Joan, is that you? You’re all blurry! Where’s everyone 
else?” Paul asked. “Shhh.” Joan replied. “Yes it is me. I am going to 
be your nurse. Everyone else is outside going crazy about you, and you 
don’t need them in here right now. They’d only make you tired. You need 
to lie back down.” she told him. Paul did as he was told, and laid back 
down, but whined, “I wanna see everyone else, let them in!” Joan rolled 
her eyes and said, “Fine, but only for a few minutes.” Joan started 
towards the door, but before she reached the handle, it burst open. 
Paul saw three blurry, yet familiar figures rushing towards him. John 
was not himself at all, and threw himself next to Paul’s bed, wailing, 
“I thought I’d never see you again Macca! Oh God, why did you do 
that?”, although he knew very well the answer. Ringo was asking, “Are 
you okay?” every five seconds, and George was apologizing profoundly 
for walking into him when he was buried in the snow. Paul tried his 
best to answer their questions, but refused to answer John’s, unaware 
that John already knew his secret. With all the shouting, though, he 
soon grew tired, and Joan was shooing the band out of the room. 
Thoroughly exhausted, the bassist fell back into a deep sleep. 

CHAPTER NINETEEN: Paul aroused. Someone was shaking him. He tried
rolling over and ignoring it, but this time a voice came along with 
heavy shaking. “Paul! Paulie, wake up! It’s time for lunch!” Lunch? He 
wondered sleepily. What happened to breakfast? Macca groaned and said, 
“Alright, I’m up. What’s for lunch?” “Soup.” Joan told him, and brought 
over a tray with a gigantic bowl of hot soup on it. Paul sat up. 
“Thanks, luv. I guess I missed breakfast.” “You were out in the snow!” 
she giggled. “Aye, snowballs for breakfast!” he joked. “Oh stop it! You 
had me worried sick last night and this morning, running away and 
shutting yourself in your room!” “I did?” “Yeah!” “I thought you wanted 
to be alone with John.” Paul told her. Now she understood why he had 
been ignoring her yesterday, why he had been acting odd the past few 
days. Joan looked into his deep brown eyes with her sparkling blue ones 
and said, “You’ve got it wrong, Paul. You’ve got it very wrong.” Paul 
nearly choked on his soup, if that was possible, and said, confused, 
“But I thought...” Joan finished for him. “You thought that I was in 
love with John. Very wrong, Paul.” Paul nearly kicked himself for being 
such an idiot, and a jerk. “Oh, I’m sorry darling.” he told her. “I’m 
sorry I was being such a jerk yesterday.” He reached out, and rested 
his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry, because I love you.” Joan 
scooted closer and rested her head on his shoulder. “And I love you 
too, Paul.” 

CHAPTER TWENTY: They had spent that whole night together. From time to
time another of the lads would come in and talk for a while, only to 
realize that Paul and Joan weren’t really listening to them, but 
instead, looking at each other. This didn’t bother George or Ringo a 
bit, knowing that Paul would talk to them in the morning, but John got 
rather upset at being dumped so suddenly for a girl. That’s John for 
ya. In the morning, the boys received a call from Eppy. George answered 
it, and his face fell as soon as Eppy had finished saying hello. “What? 
What is it?” John demanded. George only sent him a glance that said ‘be 
quiet!’ and went back to talking. John sulked off. The past few days 
had been miserable for him, with Paul being upset, then Joan being 
upset, and Paul catching them together and getting himself lost and 
sick. What hurt John the most was that last night, Macca wouldn’t talk 
to him because he was with Joan. John knew he should feel happy for 
Paul, but he was jealous that all of Paul’s attention was going to 
Joan. George hung up the phone, looking rather gloomy. “Eppy said the 
road’s going to be cleared today, and he wants us down on the set as 
soon as they are.” he told them. Moans and groans erupted from the rest 
of the band. “Paul can’t act today, he’s still unwell!” Ringo pointed 
out. Paul replied, “I have to go though, or else Eppy’s going to want 
to see me, and he might find out about Joan.” John said, “Well, I guess 
it’s off to the set for us then, dangit.” 

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: It was a horrible day at the set. Paul’s head felt
like it was about to burst, and none of the shouting from the director, 
camera operators, and others was helping it any. If they didn’t already 
have to do enough takes of each scene, many had to be done extra times 
because Paul sneezed or coughed. When the poor fellow got home, he was 
shivering and coughing like mad. He headed straight for his bedroom. 
Joan wanted to follow and help, but John stopped her. “I know you want 
to help, Joan, but Paul will only keep himself up to please you. I’ll 
go in instead.” he told her, and walked in the direction of his 
friend’s room. Paul had changed into pajamas, and said to John when he 
came in, “Tell the fellas and Joan I’m not going to be at dinner 
tonight. I want to sleep.” “Do you want me to bring you anything?” 
“Aspirin.” John walked out and returned a short while later with the 
aspirin, but Paul had already fallen asleep, so John put it on his 
nightstand, and studied the face of his sleeping friend. The normally 
lively face was pale, and Paul had dark circles under his eyes. Yet, 
John noticed, he was smiling as he slept. If it wasn’t for Joan, John 
realized, Paul wouldn’t have been there that moment, and he wouldn’t 
have been smiling, even if he was there. Sure that Macca was sleeping 
well, John left the room. The next few days were much the same. Going 
to filming, working hard all day, and Paul going straight to bed at the 
end of it. The only difference was in Paul’s condition. No matter how 
hard Joan and the others tried to help, the long working days were 
taking their toll on the already ill bassist. It was really beginning 
to show during the sessions, and Eppy realized that Paul was not 
feeling well, and paid a visit to the Beatles cabin. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: Joan was at the back of the house when Ringo let him
in, and led him to Paul’s room. The first startled look Paul gave him 
when he opened the door said, What about Joan? Ringo’s blue eyes looked 
helpless, saying, She doesn’t know he’s here! John and George, who 
happened to be with Paul at the time, only needed to look at Paul to 
see fear spark in his eyes. If Eppy saw Joan, it would mean the end of 
Paul’s relationship with her, as well as bad news for the band. George 
said, “What is it, Eppy?” Eppy looked at George as if he were being 
stupid and said, “I came to see Paul, because I don’t think he’s 
feeling quite right.” John muttered, “You’ve got that right.” under his 
breath. Eppy shot him an annoyed glance. Each second was agonizing 
Paul. He hoped that Joan would stay where she was until Eppy was gone. 
Wishing to get rid of the manager, he said, “I feel fine.” but coughed 
right in the middle of it. Somehow, Eppy found it unconvincing. “You’re 
taking the next week off,” he said firmly. “All of you. I cannot have 
my boys getting sick. Get better Paul, I’ll see you all in a week.” A 
silent sigh of relief escaped the members of the room. Eppy was going 
to leave, and he had no idea that Joan even existed, and they even got 
another week off! Their manager was walking to the bedroom door, and 
reached out to open it, when suddenly, it swung open, nearly hitting 
him in the face. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: There in the doorway stood Joan, looking shocked
at the terrible mistake she had made by opening the door. Brian Epstein 
looked equally startled, but quickly turned very angry. “WHO IN THE 
BLOODY HECK IS SHE?!?!” he roared, his face turning the color of ripe 
tomatoes.  Before the boys had a chance to answer the first question, 
he yelled, “WHO INVITED HER IN HERE?! WHAT IN THE BLOODY HECK IS SHE 
DOING HERE?!!!” The four young men were stunned by this sudden 
ferocious outburst, and Joan was nearly in tears.  “I’m Joan Deanna!” 
she cried, upset. She had no idea how bad Eppy would be when George had 
first explained it to her. “They didn’t invite me in, they saved me, 
and I’m here because the blizzard snowed us all in!” She began to sob, 
and Paul’s heart broke. He had never wanted to hear that sound in his 
entire life. He rushed to her side, and picked her up, yelling at Eppy, 
“See now, look what you’ve done to her!!” With that, he carried her out 
of the room, and down the hall, leaving his friends to deal with the 
maddened manager. “Darling, darling, it’s alright. Don’t cry now, love, 
don’t cry.” Paul said softly to Joan, sitting on her bed and rocking 
her. She buried her face in his moptop hairstyle, and continued to cry, 
the tears rolling down his long, dark hair. Paul’s eyes filled with 
sadness, love, and anger. It hurt him terribly to see her like this, he 
couldn't bear her sadness. Yet, he continued to cradle the girl in his 
arms, caressing her hair. “Darling, it’ll be alright. He can’t do 
anything to us darling love, he can’t.” Paul whispered to Joan, trying 
to comfort her. “Everything will be just fine.” 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: It was all George and Ringo could do to keep John
from throwing a chair at Eppy, who was now the frightened, startled 
one. “Don’t you get it?” John screamed. “Paul loves her you flaming 
idiot! And she loves him! What you just did hurt them more than you 
have ever been hurt in your life!” George and Ringo held John, who was 
wildly struggling to get at Eppy, back, trying to keep him from doing 
more damage than had already been done. John had a crazed look in his 
eye, and he felt like he could bite Eppy’s head off and not feel sorry 
for it. Eppy realized that he had been defeated, and said, “John, sit 
down. I need to talk with you three about this.” John stopped 
struggling against his friends’ hold, but still had an angry glare in 
his eye. Eppy cleared his throat and started, “I realize what I have 
done is wrong, and I’m very sorry for it. I was foolish to yell my head 
off at the poor lass. I’m going to leave now, and you are still getting 
your week off. Joan can stay as long as she wants with you, but don’t 
you boys start getting into trouble!” With that, he walked out of the 
cabin. John, George, and Ringo ran off as soon as the door shut, 
looking for Paul and Joan. They found them in Joan’s room, Paul still 
holding Joan tightly. She had stopped crying, and the pair looked up 
when the trio walked into the room. They told Joan and Paul what had 
happened. “John just about ate Eppy alive!” Ringo exclaimed. “Then Eppy 
got all weird, and said he would forget about it, that he was sorry, 
and that Joan could stay as long as she wanted.” George finished. Joan 
and Paul looked happier than they had ever been in their entire lives, 
and Paul turned to Joan, and said, “Joan Deanna, will you marry me?” 
Joan threw herself at him in a kiss, and said, “Yes, Paul McCartney, I 
will!” 

THE END


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