Remember, I don’t own the Beatles, this is just fiction from my warped mind.


George was right; the receptionist waved Rita right through when she told her who she was. She made her way down the long hallway and turned in the direction the young receptionist told her until the door read studio two. The red light was on and she was told not to go in if the light was on. Rita quietly opened the door next to it and moved without a sound inside the control booth.


She saw a man in his thirties hovering over the control panel, along with a few other men. One was tall, bulky, with brown wavy hair and thick black glasses; this man waved her over. She noticed another man along side the older man. They were playing with dials and levers on the panel in front of them. She slowly walked over to the tall man. He smiled and shook her hand as he whispered to her.


“You must be Rita. George told me you were coming, but not to say a word to the others. Here luv, sit down and watch. They’re still recording; I think you’ll rather enjoy it.” Mal moved the chair closer so that she could watch, but not be seen.


“Thank you…, I seem to be at a disadvantage here, you know my name and I don’t know yours,” Rita looked up at the huge man.


“Sorry, I’m Mal. Mal Evans I was the lads road manager until they stopped touring. Now, I watch out for them, bodyguard and take care of them. Would you like a coke?” Mal smiled down at the beautiful, pixie haired girl.


“Yes, thank you.” She took it and notice that he had opened it for her. She knew he was used to doing things like that for the lads, as he called them.


Rita smiled as the two men by the control panel looked over at her and smiled back in bewilderment. They quickly went back to what they were doing. Rita found she enjoyed watching the process of recording the record. She knew they were just adding some things and that the song was pretty much done.


Rita heard Paul call up to a man named George; she figured this man had to be the famous George Martin.



“How did that sound? Good, or should we do it again?” Paul looked up to the big window. He heard the other three groan as he asked. He was used to that and they were used to his perfectionism, so he ignored it as he asked.


George Martin nodded and pushed the intercom button, “Yes, I think that sounded rather good the best out of all of them. I think we’re through here. I’m going to wrap it up in here. You boys can put up your instruments.” He added as he continued to hit buttons on the big panel.


Paul shook his head, “Right, thanks George.”


The young guitarist put his guitar away. His stomach lurched, it was about time to gather the lads together and he was nervous. He had seen Rita come in and knew no one else had.


Ringo got off his stool; put his headphones and sticks down. He emerged from the partition he sat behind.


John rushed to put his guitar away before Paul changed his mind. He knew it was good that Paul liked to make the recordings as best as he could, but it drove him and the other’s batty. Although Paul’s drive did help him when he felt to lazy to change things for the better on his songs.


“Cor, Macca I thought you’d have us here all night on this bleedin song.” John told him as he bent to lock up his guitar case.


“Leave off John. Don’t you want the best sound for our music?” Paul asked, his brow rose as he looked down at the rhythm guitarist.


“ ‘Course I do, it’s just you’re so fuckin fanatical about this sort.” John straightened himself and then stretched, cracking his back.


Ringo came up to them, “ We done? I need to get me a bevy.”


“Sounds good to me, think I’ll go with you. Hey George, don’t do the play back until we come back from fetching a bevy.” John yelled up to the control booth, “You hear me?”


“Yes John, we hear you.” George Martin called down to him.


“Good, thought you were going a bit deaf up there.” John laughed and made a spastic face up at the older man. George Martin laughed, used to John’s strange sense of humor.


Ringo turned to George and Paul, “You want a bevy mates?”


Paul nodded as he locked up his case, “Yeah ta Ritch.”


George knew it was time to tell them, “Hey, lads I need to talk to ya. Remember how you’ve been asking me what’s been going on? Well, I need ta tell yas. Go get the bevies, I’ll take one and then we could go in the conference room after the playback. Um, Rita’s here too. She’s a part of this.” George watched the three turn to him with questioning eyes.


Paul tilted his head at George, and put his hands on his hips, “I thought you said Rita and you are just friends?”


“We are Paul, no worries bout that one. Just she has something to do with this. Go on get the bevies and we’ll talk after the playback.” George reassured him.


“She up there then?” Paul looked up to the booth. He saw Rita walk up to the window and wave down to him. He looked confused and then smiled up at her and winked.

“George what does she have to do with anything?”


George saw Paul bite his lip and knew that he was nervous. After knowing someone so long you got to know their habits and what they meant, he thought. Right now, Paul was probably more aware of what they wanted to talk about then he himself knew. .

“Let’s wait for the others alright?” George pleaded slightly with him.


Paul nodded, still looking from George to Rita as his nervousness grew.

“Right then.” Paul shrugged, trying not to show what he was feeling, but knew that George could tell. He didn’t know if he should go up to Rita, or stay there. He walked over to the piano. He sat down doing what came natural to him and fiddled nervously with a tune. All those flashes of pictures that he saw through Rita’s eyes came into his mind. The strange dream that Rita had around 5a.m. He wasn’t able to make it all out, but he knew it had to do with someone dying and it made him shiver. He had a nagging feeling that that had something to do with what they wanted to talk about. He didn’t know why, but it made him scared. He remembered when George was young and the dreams that he would tell Paul about. Most of all, he remembered how they came true and how Rita had some kind of visionary gift also. He tinkered with jumpiness at the ivory keys, and smoked the cigarette that hung from his mouth as he waited fretfully to hear what they had to say.



The other two Beatles came back in with steaming mugs of tea for themselves and the other two. They all sat back and listened to what they had just finished. They had all taken a seat around a table in the studio to hear the song through the large speakers. John and Ringo watched Paul. Hedidn’t make his usual comments and just sat there biting his nail. When the song ended John nudged Paul.


“You alright eh? Didn’t say a thing during the playback and yer biting your nail. “ John eyed him with part concern and part suspicion. He wondered if Paul knew about what was going on, figuring that Paul must have slept with Rita already. He knew Paul wasn’t wearing his usual mask. This worried John, now that he thought about it. Paul was not pretending to be ok like he usually did. He hadn’t even commented on the music. This wasn’t Paul, and John wondered what they were in for when George finally told them what was going on.


Paul took his nail out of his mouth and tasted the metallic flavor of blood from where he had bitten his lip. He slowly met John’s eyes, “Song was just right y’ know? ……I think nothing more needs to be added.”


John shook his head at Paul. A small smile on John’s lips questioned Paul’s answer.

“No Paulie, you’re not right. You always comment on your songs, and your face. No, something’s dead wrong with you. This has to do with whatever it is that they want to tell us, doesn’t it?” John inquired as he watched Paul fidget.


“I don’t know what they’re going on about, ok?” Paul’s agitation was apparent as he got up and left John to sit, with only the questions in his mind.


George stood in the doorway of studio two. It was time. He had sent Rita into the conference room to wait for them. He scanned the room. He saw how nervous Paul was, how John sat there with a question mark on his face and Ritch, who just stared over at George ready to get on with it. George nodded at him.

“Guys, come into the conference room. I really need to talk with the three of you.” He motioned to them and watched as John got up and walked quickly towards him, along with Ritch. Paul lagged behind, but they all followed him to the room.




The conference room wasn’t big, it was an office that they used to sit in and eat or take a break in. It had a window that over looked an alley in the back, and plain white walls that old dusty pictures hung off of. A table was set in the middle of the room, adored with ashtrays and several cushioned leather chairs pushed around it. The rug was standard office issued tan, which clearly showed the stains from the drinks of the many people who used it over the years.


Rita was already seated at the table with a mug of tea as the others came in. They each picked a chair and placed their mugs along with their cigarettes on it as they sat down. George looked nervously over at Rita; she gave him a reassuring smile. He stood, uncomfortable with the six eyes that stared at him.


John finally took the initiative. He swung his chair around; his face took on a scowl as he looked at George. John hated all this waiting and his impatience showed in his actions.


“Ok Georgie you got our attention. What are you going on about eh?” John’s eyes met George’s as he pushed for an explanation.  


George nodded at John and sat down in one of the plush chairs. He lit a cigarette, as everything raced through his mind at once. He tried to sort through it quickly. How was he going to start this? He knew John and the others were waiting. He figured he’d start at the beginning.


“Right, try and keep an open mind. Remember a few weeks back when you were all saying I looked off colour and that I needed sleep and all that sort?” He asked.


Ringo and John answered in unison with a yes. Paul just sat there, waiting to hear what was going on.


“Well, you were right, I wasn’t sleeping well. Every bloody night for the past few months I’ve been having the same dream and waking at 5 a.m. It started before that actually; once or twice a week up until September. I’d wake screaming in a sweat at what I dreamt of. I started talking to Ravi about it. I realized that since I started meditating that I am more in tune with myself. See I’ve had these dreams before, dreams of things that would come to pass in the future. I got scared and they stopped, up until recently.” George looked over to Rita for support, she nodded at him and he continued.

“This dream is of an accident that will happen on November 9th. Now I didn’t know it at first and I couldn’t tell you about this until I found out more about it. I found out from Ravi that some people have the ability to see the future in dreams, visions and sometimes through touch. I have all those abilities.” George made eye contact with John.


“ Remember shooting Strawberry fields? When I ran to the loo and got sick in there? I had a vision when I touched you as you handed me the tea.” He saw John nod as he remembered.


“So what was the vision? What are these blasted dreams about? I mean you told us about an accident and that it happens on the 9th of this month.” John rapidly fired the questions at George.


George nodded at him, “Right, I see a fight between two men in the control booth on this night. One goes off and jumps in his car. It’s pouring buckets of rain and he is so angry and then it turns to being upset. He is driving to fast and as he looks up a girl distracts him. He misses the change in the traffic light. He tries to stop the car and swerves around another car crashing into a lamppost and killing the girl. The car explodes, killing him.” George took a deep breath and then lit another cigarette. He watched the reactions of the other three.


John’s brow furrowed as he thought about it. Car accident? Two people get killed? How could George be sure of this?


Ringo had the same expression as John as he too digested what George had told them so far.


Paul just said there remembering the dream about his mother that George had had when they were young.


“ Ok you got me attention here. Who is killed in this accident and what does Rita have to do with this? Isn’t she the girl from the club?” John asked trying to piece this unbelievable story together.

George exhaled the smoke from his mouth before he answered John’s questions.

“Rita is from the club, yes. I met her before that though. I dreamt of her and of where the accident would be. I saw her in an outfit and she said some strange things to me. When I woke I went to the crossing where this accident happens. It was exactly like my dream. I parked in the same spot and did everything the same as my dream. The only thing is in my dream I touched the lamppost and saw the vision of the car smashing into it and exploding. I jumped back and knocked Rita down. That was the only thing that didn’t happen. I didn’t knock Rita down when I jumped back; instead I bumped into her on the way to my car. She was dressed the very same as in my dream. She didn’t say the same things to me, but we seemed to know each other. Not like a fan would know me, and then she told me she’d see me in my dreams. I thought this curious that she would say that after I had dreamt of her. Anyway, I saw her at the club that night; it was as if everything disappeared except her and me. That’s when I went to see her at her flat the next day. She sees the future too. She has been dreaming the same dream as me. She has come into my dreams and she is the voice I heard to see what day it happens. November 9th at 5 a.m. at Charing Crossing and Maryleborne. When I touched you John, well I saw you fighting viciously with someone else in the control booth. Because of that fight either you or the other person leaves and gets into the accident. Now, this isn’t supposed to happen and that’s why we’re getting these dreams. We are supposed to stop this. Now, we know Rita is the girl and she is going away for a few days around that time. She is safe. All we have to do now is figure out who this other bloke is and make sure that neither of you get into a car on that morning. “ George exhaled in relief as he finally got out as much as he figured they’d understand.


Rita stood up and came over to George, “George is right. I’ve had these dreams since I can remember. It’s not the proper destiny and we must change the way things happen.”


Ringo looked bemused at the two of them, “ So am I the other person or what? I mean what can we do to stop this? That is if this is all the truth. I’m not sure I believe in this stuff.”


John piped up at that minute, “ Sorry, I agree with Ritch mate. How do we know this is what’s going to happen? It’s like Ritch said.” John looked back at Ringo and then back to Rita and George.


Paul shook off the daze he had been feeling and stood up, walking slowly over to the other side of the table as he spoke, “It’s true mate. When we were younger, well George here would tell me about these dreams he’d have. One of his mum getting sick and dying, only he didn’t see her face, but thought it had to be her. It wasn’t, it was me own mum. There were others too. He had a dream the night before Stu died. He dreamt it John, he dreamt of Stu’s death. That scared him and he hasn’t had one since, until now.” Paul leaned down on the table, resting his weight on his left hand, “Remember the séances we’d have? You believed we could contact Stu. You believed then.” Paul’s eyes met with John’s.


John slammed his fist on the table and jumped up, making Paul jump back in surprise.

“Bloody fuckin hell!!!!!  Leave Stu out of this shit! I wanted to believe that, I didn’t say I did, Paul. What the fuck are you sayin Harrison? Are you sayin I’m going to die like you saw poor Stu die? Is that it?” John’s anger rose as he came at George.


“I don’t know John. I didn’t know right off that it was Stu, until I saw Astrid crying over his body. It was bloody terrifying to find out it was true. Why do you think I wasn’t to keen on those séances?“ It was hard to speak about, but George knew he had to tell John how he felt.


How could George be saying this stuff and expect him to believe it? He had a dream about Stu, his best mate? He knew that he died? Anger flooded his mind, drowning everything else out that George had said, without thinking, John charged at George. George straightened up, ready for John. He knew John usually reacted with anger when he didn’t understand something or when he was upset, they all knew it. Ringo and Paul grabbed John before he reached George. Rita jumped back with a yelp as the two contained John.


“Listen whether you want to believe me or not, this is going to happen. And no Ritch it isn’t you. I saw you playing cards with Mal at the table in the studio when John was fighting with whoever it is. John, getting angry with me knowing about Stu isn’t going to help. I didn’t want to believe about Stu. I’m not keen on all this, but it’s been handed to me. I have to right this and I am going to do that, with or without your help.” George spoke adamantly to John.


“He is right John. I believe him and Rita. I experienced something unbelievable last night…….” Paul started to tell John.


“I don’t want to hear about your sex life.” John growled up at Paul. He pushed Paul’s hands from his shoulders, along with Ringo’s.


“No, it’s more then that, John. I can feel some of the things she does and I saw bits and pieces of this dream and some other stuff I don’t quiet understand. We’ve gotta do this mate. What does it matter anyway, y ‘know? I mean so you don’t go running out into a car after this fight or let the other person go.” Paul calmly told him.


“He’s right there Johnny.” Ringo added as he lean against the table and lit a cigarette. Boy did he need a cigarette at this point.


“ I don’t even drive myself to the studio. Did you think of that one?” John anxiously reminded them all.


“I know that John. All I’m sayin is if it’s this other bloke that I haven’t seen yet; I need you to stop him. Are you alright with that?” George’s face softened at John’s anxiety.


Ringo gave John an encouraging smile. He knew that John was acting out, “Hey, doesn’t seem like we have to do much here. I’d rather be safe then sorry, right Johnny………right mate?”


John looked wearily at Ringo. He pursed his lips into a small smile. “Right then Harri, no drivin on November 9th in the early morning, just incase. I’ll bring this bloke down if I have to so he won’t drive. I’m not sure if I buy this, but like I said, just in case. ” John softened and gave a small shrug along with a slight smile.


“Thanks John, Ritch……,” He looked over to Paul, “Thanks for telling them about when we was younger and the dream stuff.” He watched as Paul nodded to him.


Paul felt a bit queasy with all this talk about death. He felt it all over him, his mum, Stu and now this. He swallowed as he tried to calm down. His mind had been on everyone else and now he needed to get out of the room. He watched Rita and the other three talk. He barely heard them as he went out in to the safety of the hall and slipped into the loo.


The cold water felt good as he splashed it over his face. He watched the beads roll off his face and back into the sink. He grabbed some paper towels and wiped the excess droplets off his face. He jumped when he notice George standing next to him. He hadn’t even heard George walk in.


“Christ, you scared me.” Paul looked down at the dark green tile that made up the floor, the dark cold metal that closed in the stalls. He looked at anything except George.


“Sorry bout that mate. You were off so fast I wanted to see if you were ok,” George explained while trying to make eye contact with Paul. He saw how hard Paul tried to avoid the contact. Something was wrong. Paul had been acting funny, withdrawn and he wondered how spooked Paul was by all this, and remembering about his mum.



Paul’s face turned up to meet George’s eyes, “George?”


George met his stare, ”What.” He gave Paul a curious look.


“You said you could tell things by touch, y ‘know like you did with John. Rita says I receive, or pick up easily on her gift,” Paul stopped for a minute and took a deep breath. He had to muster up the courage for this.


“Go on Paul. What do you want?” George pushed as he came a bit closer to Paul.


“Tell me what you see, look into my eyes or touch me, whatever. I won’t hold it against you. Just, tell me what you see, please.” Paul pleaded with his friend. His big eyes held a serious, but needy look, “ I need to know, George.”


George looked surprised at what Paul asked, but what surprised him more was how he said it. It was the same phrase Rita had used, the same phrase he had written in his song a year or so ago. How funny, George thought, that a song Paul had written could mean so much later on. He thought about what Paul had asked, and realized that he was right. George also needed to know what he would see. Why hadn’t he thought of this before?


“Right then, I’ll have a bash at it. I don’t know if it will work, but we’ll have a go.” George mirrored Paul’s weak smile.


“That’s all I’m askin. Just give it a whirl and see.” Paul stepped closer to George and extended his hands.


George put both Paul’s hands in between his own, holding them tight. Suddenly the room shrank away and he was no longer aware of what was going on around him. He was standing in the control booth in studio two.


Paul saw the two other Beatles enter the bathroom and nodded for them to be quiet. They stared in disbelief as they watched what transpired between George and Paul. Paul, being so receptive, could feel energy surge through his body and knew George was picking up on something. He saw the far away look in Georges brown eyes and knew he saw the answers that Paul was looking for.


George became aware of the loud bellowing voice of John. He looked over at John’s furry, as he lashed out with his tongue. John’s tongue-lashing could always be hard on the person he was attacking. George turned in the direction that John was speaking at. He saw Paul, who was arguing back with John, he didn’t back down like most did when John got like this. Paul came back at John’s sharp mouth. The fight hit a peak and he watched Paul storm out of the booth, slamming the door behind him.


George watched, John seemed to realize something and started running to the door of the booth. He ran out after Paul into the pouring rain. Paul got into his car and started it up as John pulled the other door opened. He slid into the passenger seat, both soaked, water running down their faces and clothes sticking to them.


“GET OUT LENNON!!!!” Paul shouted at him, his face red with anger.


John locked his side and turned to Paul with a frantic look, “ No Paul, you can’t drive. Not tonight!”


Paul laughed sarcastically at him, “ Right then.” He put the car into gear and tore away from the curb.


“C’mon Paul stop the car. I’m sorry, is that what you want to hear? I should have kept me gob shut, Now, stop the car.” John panted urgently.


“What’s the matter with the mighty Lennon? Scared are we Johnny? “ Paul said smugly, still stinging from the lashing he had gotten back at the studio.


John looked at everything pass by as the car accelerated down the wet streets. He could barely see what was in front of him. The rain pelted down so hard it was like a curtain that made it hard to see, as the car drove on faster.


“Paulie, please stop this now. I said I was sorry.” John pleaded with his friend. Bloody mouth of his, when would he learn to stop before it was too late.


Paul answered him in an excited state of mind, “ Why Lenny? Why do you do that? It’s a perfectly good idea. Do you really think I am so beneath you? Do you really think that you would have gotten this far without me? ‘Cause that’s what you said y ’know.”


“I know I said that, I’m daft, what can I say. I don’t think before I go off and then say things I don’t really mean just to get at the person. Y ’know that about me, you’ve always known that about me.” John told him as he held on to the dashboard of the car and turned sideways to see Paul and the road at the same time.


“So because I know this I’m supposed to fergive ya is it then Lennon. I can’t take it anymore, can’t do that over and over to a person. I know I can be a right bastard at times, but you can be…..” John cut him off.


“I can be a real cunt. I know that Macca, please don’t drive over on that part of town. Remember what George said.” John said as he notice the direction they were heading.


“I’m not going in that direction. I remember what George said and I am going the opposite way.” Paul told him as tears started to fall from his eyes. He loved John, but John could make it so hard too. He still felt the slap across the face that John’s words had given him.


John noticed the tears that fell from the long lashes on the face he knew so well. He felt bad about what he had done and knew he really didn’t mean it the way it came out. When was he going to be able to control his temper? His mind fixed on the tears he had caused his mate.


“You’re right and I am a sad bastard at times. Listen, the idea is just different is all and I just need to get used to it. I know you helped me start to write, showed me the right way to play the guitar, even if I had to restring the bloody thing twice. We’d be nothing without the four of us together. I never meant to hurt you, but I always seem to hurt someone I love…….” He stopped and looked again at the streets as they whizzed by.


“You love me.” Paul stated incredulously, “Well, that’s quiet clever, it just doesn’t half seem it.”


John nodded. “ I know, but I really do …..” He stopped nervously spying familiar streets. Oh my God, John thought, they were heading in the direction of Charing Crossing!

“Paul this is the way to Charing Crossing!” An alarmed voice escaped John’s mouth.


“Can’t be I purposely went the other way, you saw me turn the opposite way John.”

Alarm also filled Paul’s voice, as he realized that the car was no longer heading away from Charing Crossing, but instead towards it.


“ I know, I saw you turn in the opposite direction, and now……” Paul finished John’s sentence for him.


“It’s like the car just appeared over here. It’s the destiny that George was trying to stop!” Paul panted in fear.


Terror filled John’s whole body as he shook; he turned and yelled in panic to Paul.



“ I CAN’T!!!” Paul yelled back in a terrified voice.


Paul felt like he was in a dream, everything started moving slowly. He looked at the crossing ahead of them and then saw her. A girl with blonde long hair standing there under the protection of an umbrella, John saw her too, as they sped closer to their awaited destiny.