The Devil In Her Heart (Beatles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 18

July 29th 1965

"What time with they be here?" Grace asked lazily, lying on the top of the bed.

"Depends," George replied. "If they pick us up first or last." He examined his teeth in the dressing table mirror and tried to flatten an unruly piece of hair. "You'd better get dressed," he said, looking at Grace through the reflection.

"I am dressed," Grace said, playing with her hair.

George smiled. "Going like that then, are you?" She was wearing her satin slip, and if he remembered rightly, nothing beneath. "That'll be a surprise for Princess Margaret."

"I've got nothing else..." Grace replied.

George turned around. "What about the dresses I bought you the other day?"

Grace pouted. "They're not really suitable for film premiers. Or meeting royalty."

George laughed. "You've left it a little late to decide that."

She sat up, leaning against the headboard. The strap of her negligee slipped from her shoulder.

"C'mon, shake a leg," George said, going back to the mirror, checking the time neurotically.

"Georgie?"

"What?"

"Come here a minute."

He looked at her in the reflection again. "You won't be ready."

She met his gaze. "Yes, I will. I'm no preening model. It won't take me three hours to get ready."

George looked away. "That's good, cos you haven't got three hours," he said, over-cheerfully, compensating for the sting that comment had caused him.

Grace crawled across the bed to him and put her hands on his hips, turning him to face her. "You're thinking about her again," she said.

"I'm not," George said.

"Well, don't. I've told you, forget that bitch."

George just nodded. Grace took hold of his tuxedo jacket and pulled him down to her. He resisted then leaned and kissed her, but pushed her hands away as they wandered around his waist. "There isn't time," he said shortly.

"There's always time," Grace said.

George smiled, a little coy. "Besides, we only just... did that, this morning."

Grace let go of him and flopped back on to the bed with a groan. "Jesus, George. I know it must be a shock being with a real woman, but you're going to have to get used to it."

George tried not to react. "Just get ready," he told her. He walked out of the bedroom, going to the window in the lounge that overlooked the street.

Perhaps they're lost, he thought as he searched the abandoned road. He'd only rung to give them the revised address a few hours ago. Last minute. Just in case he had ended up back at Esher. Kinfauns. Pattie. That was looking more and more unlikely as each day passed. She would have rung me if she wanted me back, George thought sadly, still watching for the car. I just gave her the easy way out, leaving like that.

But tonight there were even heavier things weighing on his mind. He had managed to avoid Paul for the ten days he had been living with Grace, and John and Ringo as well for that matter. He'd seen Paul only once – on the telly, accepting an award for writing songs, or something. His publicity smile had looked like a sneer as he reminded George again that ultimately, Paul was better than him at everything.