Emma met Cyn at little café the next afternoon for lunch.

"I’m surprised I woke up this morning!" Emma laughed as she took a seat at the table that Cynthia had already obtained.

"Was your head pounding and the room spinning?"

"You too?!" Emma laughed.

"I can’t remember the last time I had such a horrible hangover!" Cyn confessed.

"It was some party last night, that’s for sure."

"Did you even see much of the party?" Cyn asked, raising her eyebrow.

Emma looked into her glass of water. "No."

"What was said last night?" Cyn started to ask, but was interrupted by the waitress. They gave their orders and when she had left, Cyn asked the question again.

Emma moaned and propped her head up with her left hand. "What wasn’t said?" She sat up and picked up her fork, digging into her chef salad. "When we broke up we just broke up. We never had any final words or anything. Last night we had those final words."

"Ah." Cyn said, nodding her head. "Are you alright?"

Emma sighed. "Yeah."

"But?" Cyn asked.

"Well, it was like we were talking about yesterday. Everything was so much simpler when we were younger, back in Liverpool. When dreams were still out of reach, when friends were still alive. Now, we’ve all changed."

Cyn nodded her head in agreement. "Some more than others."

The waitress came then and set their food in front of them, then left.

"Others meaning John?" Emma asked, picking up the conversation.

Cyn looked down into her food. "He’s one of them."

"What do you mean, Cyn?"

Cyn looked up from her food. "He just seems to be pulling himself away from me more and more. When he’s not on tour he’s sleeping all day or in the studio. It’s as if we aren’t even married." She paused for a moment, thinking through what she was going to say next. "We never would have married in the first place had I not been pregnant with Julian."

Emma reached across the table and put her hand on Cyn’s arm. "I don’t think that’s true. John loved you."

"He might have, once." Cyn replied. "But like I said, people have changed."

Emma stayed cooped up in her studio for the next couple of weeks, furiously trying to make the deadline for her upcoming show. She wanted this show to stay in everyone’s minds for months to come because she knew that this would be her last show for a while. She was really proud of what she had done. It was her most emotional show to date. There were pictures of Stuart, of John, Paul. Her favourite, and the one that made her cry when she had finished it, was painted from a picture she had taken of Stuart and John. They were sitting on a couch with their guitars and Emma had caught a moment when they had looked at each other, smiles on their faces. You could see how happy they were. There was another painting she called ‘Walk.’ It was of a man walking down the beach with his coat slung over his shoulder. The sun was setting and the waves were lapping at his feet. It looked so real it was as if you were walking behind him when you looked at it. There was no set theme to the collection. There never was with one of Emma’s shows.

Emma headed out to San Francisco in mid-August to visit Laura. The Beatles were performing at Candlestick park, the last date on their American tour. Brian had two press passes sent to Laura so that she and Emma could have backstage access.

"Doesn’t this bring back memories?" Laura laughed as she and Emma were getting ready for the concert.

"Yes it does," Emma replied. ‘At least this time, they know I will be there."

"I can still remember that floppy hat you wore." Laura smiled.

"You mean this one?" Emma asked, pulling out a black floppy hat from her suitcase.

"Yes!" Laura cried grabbing the hat. "I can’t believe you brought this!."

Emma took the hat back and placed it on her head. "I found it a few weeks ago. I always loved this hat."

"I have the perfect dress to go with that hat." Laura said, suddenly disappearing from the room, returning moments later with a black dress.

Emma took it from Laura. "This is gorgeous. Where did you find this?" She disappeared behind the changing screen and reappeared seconds later. It was short, falling just above her knees. It hugged her shoulders with a scooping neck.

"A friend of mine is a designer. She gave me this dress but I never felt like I could pull it off, but you . . . you can pull it off."

Emma stood in front of the mirror staring at her reflection.

"Thinking of what Paul will think of you?" Laura asked.

Emma spun around. "What?!"

"Don’t tell me you aren’t trying to impress him."

"I won’t tell you, because I am not trying to impress him."

Laura shrugged her shoulders. "Whatever. I have a pair of black go-go boots you can borrow too."

Emma stared at her reflection. Her skin was pale and she was thinner than she usually was. Her last show had really run her down. Being in San Francisco, in the sun, would help. Was she trying to impress Paul?, she wondered.

Laura came out of her closet holding the black boots and Emma turned her attention back to getting ready for the concert.

"You should have been a fashion model," Laura commented to Emma when they finished dressing.

Emma laughed at her friend. "Come ‘ead. We’ll be late."

They were right by the stage for the concert standing with Brian and Neil.

"Don’t you think you could have gotten us better seats?" Emma asked, looking over at Brian.

Brian smiled. "I was given strict instructions not to let you any closer."

Emma’s eyes grew wide. "What? Why would you have to worry about me?" Then she cracked a smile and turned her attention back to the stage. The last opening act was just leaving the stage.

The Beatles suddenly appeared as if by magic. She caught John’s eye and he gave her a wink and held up the camera around his neck. She saw Paul. He also had a camera slung around his neck. He wouldn’t look at her though. Emma didn’t care. She was here to enjoy herself.

Halfway through the concert, Emma turned to Brian. "This is their last show, isn’t it?"

He turned his attention away from the stage to answer her question. "Yes, it’s the last concert of the tour."

Emma shook her head. "No, I meant last concert, ever."

Brian looked at her and the back to the stage. He nodded his head.

Emma looked back at the stage. John was snapping a picture. Their last concert ever, she thought. Wow.

An after party was being held at the hotel where The Beatles were staying. The who’s who of the music industry was there.

"Is that Dennis Wilson?" Laura asked, pointing to a striking man with sun bleached hair and sun tanned skin. He was talking with Roger McGuin from the Byrds.

Emma nodded her head and then started to laugh. "You interview musicians for a living, Laur! Why so star-struck?"

Laura blushed and then downed the rest of her rum and coke.

Emma looked back over at Dennis. She’d been a fan of the Beach Boys since their first record had come out. She absolutely loved their new album, Pet Sounds. She would never admit it to Laura, but she was just as star-struck. Making a promise to herself to talk to Dennis before she left, she went in search of John.

He was talking with Brian by the bar.

"You guys sure know how to throw a party!" She said when she approached them.

John turned and smiled at her. "There you are. I was just going to come and find you."

"Well here I am." She leaned in a bit closer to John. "You didn’t tell me the Beach Boys would be here?" she whispered.

John leaned in, too. "Are we a bit drunk, Miss James?" he also whispered.

Emma made a tsking sound. "No. Not yet." She leaned back up. "You put on an amazing show tonight. I think I got some great shots, too."

"You mean you actually paid attention to the music and not just our Paulie?"

Emma shot him a nasty look and then turned to Brian. "Please tell your asinine client that I am going to the bar." And she turned her back to them and walked away, hearing John’s laugh float behind her.

Laura was standing by the bar when Emma found her.

"Hiding?" she kidded.

Laura rolled her eyes. "Haha. No. I was just getting a drink. Want one?"

Emma nodded her head. "A screwdriver please."

While Laura turned her attention to the bar, Emma turned her to the party. She spotted Paul sitting on a couch flirting with a skinny brunette wearing too much make-up and too short of a skirt. How can these girls go out in public like that? Emma wondered to herself. And why was Paul hanging around something like that?

"One screwdriver," Laura interrupted, handing Emma her drink. Emma absent-mindedly took it and Laura followed her gaze to where Paul was sitting. "We should hit a club after this. Make it an all-nighter."

"What . . . oh . . . yeah, sure."

"I think this is a party, Miss James, so do you suggest we do some partying?"

A sly grin spread across Emma’s face. "What do you have in mind, Miss Emrick?"

"First, I suggest you down that drink."

An hour later, Emma and Laura were drunk enough to have fun, but not drunk enough to embarrass themselves. They mingled with the other guests and at one point, Emma even got John out on the dance floor for a few brief seconds. She desperately tried to ignore the fact that Paul was there.

At one point, Emma found herself up at the bar with Dennis Wilson. They both went to order a screwdriver at the same time.

Dennis turned to Emma. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Emma shrugged her shoulders. "I don’t know. But, I do know you from somewhere."

Dennis smiled. "Oh yeah?"

Emma nodded her head. "You are in one of the greatest bands ever. Dennis Wilson of The Beach Boys."

He laughed. "That’s right. Now, who are you?"

"Just Emma James."

Dennis snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "I know who you are! I have one of your paintings hanging in my living room. You are really amazing."

Emma was shocked. "You have on of my paintings?"

"Yeah! It’s called Pacific Ocean Blue."

They had migrated to a nearby couch and Emma was speechless. She’d never known of someone she admired having one of her paintings.

"I don’t know why I find that so weird!" she laughed. "I mean, I have all of your records."

"Well, we must have been destined to meet then."

She smiled at him. He was really cute. "We must have been."

"So how did you end up at this swanky rock and rollers party?" Dennis asked after they had ordered another drink.

She leaned in close to him. "I’m with the band," she whispered.

"Like a groupie?" he whispered back.

Emma laughed. "No! I grew up with them back in Liverpool. We met in art college."

"Wow. I thought you looked too sophisticated to be a groupie. Especially in that dress." He openly eyed her up and down.

"Make a new friend?" A voice suddenly asked.

Emma looked up and saw Paul. He always seemed to appear out of the blue.

"Yeah I did. Have you met Dennis Wilson, member of the best group in the world?"

"We’ve met," Paul responded.

What was his problem, Emma wondered. "Was there something you wanted, Paul?" she asked, irritated.

"John’s looking for you. He’s in the next room."

"Thank you," Emma said coldly.

Paul left and Emma sighed.

"Do you two have a history?" Dennis asked, sensing tension between Paul and Emma.

"Yes. A very intense, troubled history. Care to join me and see what John wants?"

Dennis accepted and they headed into the master bedroom where John and George were seated on the floor.

"Your man servant sent for me?" she asked, bowing before John.

He laughed. "That’s right, bow to the master."

Emma stuck her tongue out at him. "I brought along my new friend, Dennis. Oh, Laura! Can she come too?"

John and George were laughing at the obviously drunk Emma. "Yes."

Emma disappeared and returned moments later with Laura in tow.

John had a small carry-on bag sitting in front of him. From it he pulled out a bag filled with a large amount of marijuana.

Emma clapped her hands together. "Now this is a party!"

Joints were rolled and passed around the circle the five had created on the floor.

"You guys," Emma said, very stoned, pointing to John, George, and Dennis. "You guys create the most beautiful music." The she pointed just at Dennis and looked at John. "Have you heard ‘Pet Sounds’?"

John nodded his head. "One of the greatest fucking albums I have ever heard."

Dennis sat with his mouth open, unable to believe that John Lennon liked his band.

At that point, Laura started to giggle. It caught on and soon all were rolling with laughter. That’s when Neil stuck his head into the room.

"Brian wants you two out at the party," he said, surveying the scene, trying hard to act professional, seeing what was before him.

"Tell Brian that we are terribly sorry, but George and I are just too exhausted to return."

Neil rolled his eyes and shut the door. He knew it was better that they stay in the room and he knew that Brian would be fine with it too when he found out what condition half of the Beatles were in.

"Won't Brian be mad that you aren’t out there?" Emma asked.

"Who fucking cares?" John asked. "This is the last fucking after party we will ever have and I want to celebrate it the way I want to."

"By ‘this’ do you mean your last concert?" Emma asked.

George and John looked at each other.

"What is said in this room stays in this room." George said.

Laura, Dennis, and Emma all nodded their heads.

"This was our last tour," John said. "We won’t be performing live anymore."

"Now you’ll have more time to work on your music," Dennis observed.

"Exactly." George replied.

At some point, drinks had been brought in.

"A toast!" Laura cried.

They raised their glasses.

"To last concerts," Laura said.

"To music," George said.

"To the ocean," Dennis added.

"To Love," Emma supplied.

"To sex, drugs and rock and roll!" John cried.

They laughed, clinked together their glasses and downed their drinks.