Chapter Four: You’re not even tempting
Liverpool, March 1961
Prue and Alyssa walked along Gambier Terrace on a cold, sunny day in late March. They had gone to buy some clothes with the what remained of Alyssa’s last paycheck; she had been working as a waitress at The Jac since early January. They were talking about the approaching trip to Hamburg. They would be leaving on 1st April and they still didn’t know when they would be back. Alyssa, naturally, was going with The Beatles to visit her family. This time they would have no contract with Bruno Koschmeider but with Peter Eckhorn, the owner of the Top Ten Club. All their papers were in order now, as George had already turned eighteen in February.
They reached number three and went up the stairs to John’s flat. Alyssa withdrew the keys from her handbag and unlocked the door. Prue, who was carrying a little bag with a blouse she had bought for herself, entered and was followed by Alyssa.
The girls were quite surprised to find not only John but also Paul and George there. They were sitting on the floor, with their back against the wall, as there were no safe chairs to sit on. John, however, was lying very comfortably on his soft mattress, with his hands under his head as a pillow.
“Hello, lads,” Alyssa smiled and left her bags in a corner.
“Hello,” they greeted. “Where were ye?” John asked.
“I went to buy some clothes with Prue,” she replied with a smile.
“Where did ye get the money from?”
“I work, remember?”
“Thought ye were goin’ to use that to rent a room?” he asked. “If Cyn finds out yer staying ‘ere, she’ll have me bollocks.”
“It was my fault,” Prue lied. “I told her to accompany me, cousin. And there were certain things she just had to buy.”
“Oh, ‘ey, Prudish,” John smiled at the sight of his cousin.
“Hey, Johnnish,” she joked and walked into Stu’s former bedroom after winking at George. “Do you happen to have a single chair somewhere?”
“Nah, sorry,” John replied. “But ye’ve got lots of floor to sit on.”
She walked back into the room with a smirk. “That’s great hospitality…” She brought a cushion from the other room, put it beside George on the floor and sat down, smoothing her skirt as she did so. “I’ve heard you’re going back to Hamburg, then?”
“Yeh… now I wonder who told ye,” John joked, looking reprovingly at Lys.
“Who do you think?” Prue chuckled.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” Lys smiled. “Wanted some company, I’m afraid.”
“Pardon?” Paul spoke up.
“You see,” Prue started, “I’ve always wondered why, if I know German, I’ve never been to Germany, right? And this strikes me as a great opportunity!”
“Opportunity to do what?” Paul asked.
“To visit Germany,” she replied, looking at him with a smile on her face, as if he were retarded.
“So yer cummin’ with us?” George beamed.
“Well… yes!” Prue exclaimed.
“Hell no, you must be joshing me…” Paul put his head in his hands.
She stretched out and messed his hair, “Don’t be sad, fatty! You’ll have the pleasure of seeing me every day!”
“Argh, gerroff me, creep!” he pried her hand away.
Everybody laughed out loud at their silly behaviour. It was so funny to all of them, even to Prue who laughed with the others until her cheeks became flushed.
“It’s a pity we don’t get along, really, as we’ll spend soooo many months together in Hamburg…” she sighed. “We’ll have to work on that,” she winked at him.
“Dream on,” he grunted.
“Oh, come ‘ed! Aren’t you happy I’m going to Germany with you?” she smiled. She just loved pissing him off and seeing him getting so angry. The way his cheeks got rosy when he was mad was just hilarious.
“Yes, I’m happy indeed… I think I’m going to barf with joy,” he rolled his eyes as the rest of the gang laughed.
“I’ve always thought you were a disgusting individual, Paul. Now you’ve just confirmed my theory,” Prue nodded.
“No, doll, yer mistaken. I’m not disgusting,” he shook his head, trying to keep his cool, “no, no… disgusted would be the word.”
“Disgusting… disgusted, whatever, Paul… it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a shite, mate.”
“Watch that mouth, young lady, we wouldn’t want to see your brother coming here and forcing you to leave, now would we?”
That stupid comment made George and John laugh more than anything else. And as for Lys, she was praying William did just that.
“You are a bunch of cowards. I would love to see any of you saying the same thing, but with Will in front of you. I bet you’d shit yourselves like the silly babies you are.”
“Oh, c’mon Pruddie, Paulie ‘ere’s just teasin’, don’t get like tha’, luv,” George put a hand on her shoulder and caressed it softly.
“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes. “So I take it you’re leaving the 27th of March, right?”
“The 27th of March, tha’ is,” John nodded.
“That’s almost two weeks from now...” Prue put a finger to her chin and evaluated her situation. She would have to talk to Samuel Garth, the editor of the Mersey Beat. She hoped Sam would let her go away for a few months without asking for her resignation. ‘Perhaps I could write about the British bands that are playing there in Hamburg...’ she thought. It was a good idea. That way she would not have to leave her job, which she adored. “Well, I’ll see what I can do...”
“What ye’ll do ‘bout what?” George frowned, not really knowing what Prue was talking about.
“Nothing, nothing,” she smiled, “I was just talking to myself.”
Paul shook his head as he murmured something to himself.
“What is that you were saying, Paul?” Prue asked him, knowing exactly that he was talking about her.
“Nutcase,” he said out loud. “Yer a nutcase.”
“Didn’t ask your opinion, but well,” she smiled at him sympathetically. “Anyroad… I think I’ll get going,” she stood up.
“Alright, I don’t ‘ave to show ye the way out, do I?” John raised his eyebrows, and Prue chuckled softly.
“No, thank you, I already know it pretty well myself,” she kissed Lys’ cheek, then George’s and after walking past Paul without even casting an eye in his direction, she made it to the door. “Ok, see you tomorrow… and Paul, fatty, don’t miss me.” And before he could even start thinking about a proper answer, she was out of the flat.
***
Hamburg, 27th March 1961
“We are arriving,” Lys said as she looked out of the window. The train rolled noisily across the city she knew very well. But it would be at least another half an hour until they arrived at the station.
“It is ‘bout bloody fookin’ time,” John sighed, stretching in the uncomfortable seat. His back was hurting like hell, and he was glad that tiring trip was over. It was a good thing he had travelled beside Alyssa: she was actually very good company. And they had laughed about everything and everyone all through the afternoon.
Lys chuckled, “I hate travelling by train… and specially with you, Johnny, you’re boredom personified,” she smiled at him as she pinched his cheek affectionately.
“Hands off me, woman! I wouldn’t wanna ‘ave trouble with me cousin, ye know, although it’s not me fault if he doesn’t keep his gal satisfied…”
Lys frowned: what the hell was he talking about?
“And speakin’ ‘bout the devil, how are things with Willy?”
“Mmm… I think I’ve missed something here…” she scratched her forehead dubiously. “What are you talking about?”
John smiled mischievously: he had her where he wanted her. “Aw, don’t play the fool with me, Delilah…”
“I’m not…” she shrugged, “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then what, yer tryin’ to tell me ‘ere that yer not me cousin’s girlfriend? ‘Cause ye know, ye had four months to get a hold of the bastard, luv, and for what it seems, ye didn’t,” his smiled turned into a wicked grin, “My my, it seems I got me a slave…”
Lys’ eyes went as wide as plates. She had forgotten all about their stupid bet! She had been so busy trying to even get to see Prue’s brother that time had flown by, and she had completely put the issue out of her mind. And now what? She had to be John’s personal slave for two months? The sole thought of what he would make her do was frightening. Her worries showed in her face as she contorted it in mock disgust.
“Yer not really taken by the idea, right?” John, on the other hand, was delighted. “Don’t worry… ye’ll get to like it… in the end.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get to like anything involving washing your underwear,” she wrinkled her nose and then huffed.
“Ye knew the rules, Lizzie… but ye played the game anyway… now ye’ve lost, and ye ‘ave to pay… it’s not me fault, ye know? I warned ye, I told ye Willy-boy would never even look at ye… but as ye wouldn’t listen…” he laughed out loud. “But don’t worry, ye’ll start in May… so enjoy April, luv.”
Alyssa huffed again as she crossed her arms tightly in a childish way. John smiled discreetly: she looked absolutely lovely. But her good looks wouldn’t save her from her two months of slavery… and that was unquestionable.
The Top Ten was a really amazing club, compared to the other ones in the St. Pauli district, of course. The four Beatles were assigned a room as soon as they arrived, but when Peter Eckhorn saw they had two female companions, he realized that the two bunk beds wouldn’t be enough to accommodate the six fellas. When he recognized Alyssa, he decided to make an exception, and gave the girls a little room for themselves. He had been Lys’ bed partner quite a few times, and he had a soft spot for her.
Everyone was led to their respective bedrooms, and the girls were more than content with their own. It was not big, but as it had a fairly big window, it was very luminous. The walls were white, and a king-sized bed was one of the only two pieces of furniture that were there; the other one was a rather old-looking, huge wardrobe.
Prue looked around, smiling. "Do you reckon we could bring a chair or something to put this on?" she asked Alyssa, lifting a little bedside lamp from the floor.
“Don’t worry,” Lys smiled, “I’ll ask Peter for a bedside table… I don’t think he’ll say no, y’know.”
Prue laughed and threw herself on the rather soft bed. She looked around and felt strangely happy to be there. “You know, I’m glad I’m here.”
Lys looked at her from the corner of her eye as she unpacked her luggage, “Really?”
“Yes, I don’t know why, really…”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here with us, Prue. Otherwise I’d get really bored,” Lys flashed a quick smile and went back to her business.
Prue smiled too. She really took to Alyssa and was sure they would become really close friends.
And indeed they did. After just a few days of seeing each other everyday, Prue and Alyssa had built up a solid friendship, and as far as everyone was concerned, they were already best friends. One afternoon, during one of the last days of their first week in Hamburg, they were talking animatedly in the bedroom they shared. Prue was sitting opposite Lys on the king-sized bed, laughing hysterically. Lys was doing a very funny impersonation of Paul seemingly having a big orgasm, and tears were rolling down Prue’s cheeks. By then, she knew everything about Paul and Lys’ brief affair, and she found the issue not at all surprising, but yes very interesting.
“Wow… you made me laugh,” Prue panted as she massaged her belly, which was hurting her really bad.
“I might have exaggerated a little,” Lys smiled, “but he really was funny.”
“You know? I don’t think I remember Ivan’s face while doing it… I always had my eyes shut,” Prue smiled.
“And you? What’s your face like when having a big “O”?” Lys asked.
Prue’s smile fell a little bit, “Oh, I don’t know, you’ll have to ask Ivan…”
“Oh, c’mon, you must know… I can act out mine,” Alyssa laughed as she prepared herself for the performance.
“No, no, it’s ok,” Prue raised her hands as she laughed, trying to stop her. Alyssa laughed with her.
After they stopped laughing and could calm down, Prue’s face got serious. She had a question to ask her friend, and it was actually pretty embarrassing, but she knew she could trust Lys… her secret would be safe with her.
“Um, Lys… can I ask you something?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“I know you have experience in this field, so… what does it feel like…?” Prue asked, unable to finish the sentence.
“What?”
“What does it feel like to have a… y’know… an “o”…?”
Lys frowned, “why do you ask that?”
“Oh, I don’t know…”Prue blushed.
“Well,” Lys said, “it feel as if something very powerful explodes inside of you, y’know… and then it is as if you were having a seizure, as you shake and shudder… it’s really amazing, but it really isn’t something you can explain, is it?”
Prue hesitated for a second, “I guess…”
Then it dawned on Alyssa. Could it be that Prue had never experienced the wonders of a fulfilling, heavenly, satisfying intercourse? Yes, if she’d had a young, inexperienced lover it was very possible. Lys shook her head softly: most teenagers had no idea of how to properly please a woman, and the ones who did know were rarely found. Older men were almost always better when it came to finding sexual satisfaction.
“Prue,” Lys said softly, “have you ever reached climax?”
That question shocked Prue a great deal: she had not seen it coming at all. “Um… well, I don’t know… perhaps…” she forced her memory to take her back to a moment when she had felt the sheer ecstasy her friend had described, but nothing happened, her mind was a total blank, “no…” she admitted, “I don’t think so…” she sighed, feeling embarrassed, “I’ve never had an orgasm.”
Just then, Alyssa broke into a wicked, masculine laugh. Or so Prue thought, until she realized that it was not her friend who was laughing, but someone standing by the doorway. That person entered the bedroom shortly after, bearing a malicious smile.
“Really?” Paul asked, “don’t tell me little Ivan has never given you one?”
Prue was speechless, her eyes pierced on Paul’s twinkling ones. How could he be so mean about it? It was obvious he was delighted.
“Or is it that you’re just frigid, huh?” he was grinning now: he just loved to piss her off.
“No, Paul, it means your little friend down there -in Liverpool, I mean, not in your pants- doesn’t know how to satisfy a woman. He might have been too busy thinking about his own pleasure, the greedy little bastard… but well, what else can you expect, him being one of your gang, mmm?” Alyssa was shooting daggers at him with her eyes, her tongue just as sharp. Paul was her friend as well, and she cared for him very much, but when he turned into such a jerk, he really got on her nerves. He had no right to mistreat Prue that way, and less to stick his nose into her business so blatantly.
“Oh, Lys, I think I don’t have to remind you I had you on your hands and knees screaming my name over an over several times, now do I? So please, don’t talk bullshit, doll.”
“Paul,” Lys sighed with a smile, “if your member were as big as your ego… but well, you can’t have it all, can you?”
Paul ignored her, his eyes fixed back on Prue’s flushed face. “Poor Prue…” he shook his head in apparent sympathy, “silly of me, to think you couldn’t be creepier…”
“And I thought you couldn’t be crappier,” Prue said, suddenly gaining back possession of her voice.
He laughed out loud, amused, and then pinched her cheek affectionately. “You’re smart… maybe too smart for your own good, but… who cares about that, mm?” he laughed derisively now, “Ok, I have to go… and Prue, luv, smile a little bit… don’t be so rigid… or should I say ‘frigid’?” And before Prue could answer he went out of the room as fast as a lighting, fearing she would reach out her hand and cross his face with a well-deserved slap.
***
Paul sat down heavily on the wooden chair next John, he ran his hands through his hair and sighed. It was a very hot night, and he felt terribly sticky. The Beatles had just finished playing, and he was glad the show was over: it had been one tiring night. As exhausted as he was, he couldn’t even move a finger, and he thanked Lys profusely when she grudgingly fetched him a cold beer.
“You shouldn’t have gone,” Prue stated, glaring at Paul. She just hated so much his ‘I’m-the-man-here-so-get-me-a-beer,-woman’ attitude. No, she hated most of his attitudes, actually.
They had been fighting a lot lately. Seeing each other every day had become less than bearable, and now the sole sight of him made her extremely annoyed. But it was the incident that had taken place the prior week that had made things insufferable for her… he had been extremely nasty about her secret, and every time he found an opportunity to tease her, he made use of it more than gladly.
“It’s fine,” Lys shrugged, “I had to get one for myself anyway…”
An hour went by among jokes and laughs. John was commenting on this stripper he wanted badly to sleep with, while an amused Paul insisted she was a ‘fella in drag’. George and Lys agreed with Paul, and only Pete was on John’s side, claiming she was too pretty to be a guy.
“No,” Alyssa shook her head as she laughed, “Clare is actually named Robert, John, I knew him before he became a woman…”
Every one burst out laughing. “Well, then I’m glad I didn’t lay a ‘and on ‘er,” John smirked, “I would ‘ave ‘ad a big, big surprise…” he said, showing with his hands how big the surprise would have been, as the rest of the gang laughed.
“Well, now talking about real women, you should see this one I’m banging…” Paul rolled his eyes, “she’s smashing… she’s got the most impressive pair of jugs, actually…” he smiled as he nodded, “a nice piece of arse, she is…”
John and George clapped laughingly, while Lys and Prue exchanged looks. They both hated it when they talked like that about another woman, not because they were jealous or anything, but because they found their sexist comments extremely repulsive.
“You’re a chauvinist swine, Paul, did you know that?” Prue hissed.
“Ta, luv,” he winked at her.
“My God, stop swelling about the bonce, now will you? You depress me, mate…” she huffed, “what a thick bastard…”
That was it, Paul thought, her comments added to the fact that he was more than just a bit tipsy had made him really mad. And what bothered him the most was that she was actually true. “Y’know? Yer so hysterical, so full of energy… ye should spend it somehow, and if ye ask me, the best way fer ye to calm down would be to get some desperate fella to fuck yer brains out… a big, fat orgasm might be all ye need… ‘ave ye ever touched yerself? Ye should try it!”
John, George and Lys had also had much to drink, but Paul’s reply startled them anyway. Now they couldn’t wait to hear what Prue had to say.
“You speak from experience, don’t you?” she indignantly retorted.
“I won’t deny it, at least I’m not a frigid bitch like ye.”
Prue guffawed out loud, not to cry, “Not frigid, but you certainly are everyone’s bitch.”
Paul laughed derisively, “Not everyone’s… I wouldn’t be yers even if ye paid me to.”
“No? You think I never saw you staring at my tits, you wanker?”
The other three seemed to be watching a tennis rally, they were one second looking at Paul and then when it was Prue’s turn to answer, they turned their heads to her. The situation was extremely amusing in their eyes. Paul and Prue’s fights were always high-quality arguments.
“Oh, yes, well, tha’s all ye are, a pair of fine tits.”
“And you? You don’t even have tits.”
“It doesn’t matter, tha’s what I ‘ave women fer anylord.”
Prue gritted her teeth, “You’re pathetic. That’s the only thing a woman would put her eyes on you for.”
“Oh, I doubt tha’, y’know, why don’t ye ask Dot?”
She couldn’t believe her ears. There he was, making fun of all women, and above all, making fun of his girlfriend, who loved him so much it was almost scary. It was so obvious he didn’t love her back and that he didn’t give a shit about her, that Prue felt like throwing up all over him. “You know what? Someday there will come a woman who will mean more than just tits to you and she will break your heart, and I’ll congratulate her. You deserve it for being such s shite!”
“Ye’ve said tha’ before, and maybe yer right… but as fer now, it doesn’t worry me.”
“Enjoy it while you can, then.”
“What do ye bloody care anyway? It’s yer need fer a good fuck we were talkin’ ‘bout,” he was slightly slurring the words now, and he was getting madder by the second.
“Why are you so interested in me finding someone to fuck with, huh? What, you’d like to tape it? Or do it yourself, perhaps?”
“Yer dying fer me to, right?” he smiled wickedly, “do you want me to screw ye, Pruddie? I’d ‘ave no problem, actually, y’know… After all, ye’d be just another pussy fer me.”
“You forgot the pair of good tits, bastard,” she was so fuming and offended she was shaking. No one had ever insulted her more in her entire life.
“And why don’t ye just help me remember, huh?” he looked at her lecherously.
“Please,” she laughed sarcastically, “don’t make me laugh. You might be fun for whores, but for me, you’re not even tempting.”
Paul narrowed his eyes as his dazed mind took Prue’s hurtful words in. His blood was boiling, anger taking him over. She was laughing, smiling cockily at him, and he thought he would explode. But then, an idea popped into his head. He would show this spoilt brat how tempting he could be. Yes, she would learn the hard way, but she would learn at last.
Paul stood up and, for a second, he thought his legs wouldn’t support him. He took some unsteady steps as he pointed accusingly at Prue with his index finger.
“What?” she asked, smiling like the Cheshire cat, “Oh… yes,” she stood up as well and walked to the swaying Paul. “Let me help you, Paulie… you can’t even stand on your own two feet, darling,” she laughed disdainfully, “it seems you’ve had a liiiittle too much to drink tonight.”
Later on, Prue would tell Alyssa she had no idea how it had happened. He had shown no sign, no warning. He had been as unpredictable as a dog that attacks its prey without even showing its teeth first.
George, John and Alyssa, who were totally soused, stared agape as their friend quickly bent over and, taking a hold of Prue, put her over his left shoulder while straightening up again. They broke into drunken giggles when Prue started letting out little shrieks, trying to kick Paul with her feet and to punch him with her fists. But he would not let her go… ‘not even in a million years,’ he smiled as he walked swiftly toward the stairs.
“Let go of me, you drunken motherfucker!” she said, her voice taut with anger, and squirmed like a worm in a hook, trying in vain to free herself from the firm grip he had on her.
Paul did not answer her. He was delighted to hear her losing her temper, getting nervous, upset, and obviously scared. It all was music to his ears.
The hallway was obscure, he staggered across it, trying to calculate which door was the one that led to Prue’s room. When he found it, he groped with his hand in the darkness until he came across the door-handle. After turning it. He violently kicked the door open and entered the room.
What should he do now? Paul wondered as he shut the door after him. He could perhaps just put her down and let her go after having given her a piece of his mind. But no, he could not waste a golden opportunity like this one. She needed to learn this lesson, even though she would hate him even more afterwards.
“Put me down!!” Prue continued complaining, “Let me go, you ape!” But the more she yelled and kicked, the more enraged Paul got.
“Shut the fuck up!” he told her through gritted teeth. She had teased him, provoked him, turned him on out of sheer bitchiness, and now she would pay for it.
Prue gasped as Paul turned around and, without any preambles, let her fall on the soft mattress of the bed she shared with Lys. Everything was going on so quickly around her that her reflexes became slower, and her attempts to escape, useless.
“What’s going on?” she thought to herself as she felt a heavy weight above her. She opened her eyes to see Paul sitting astride her, fastening her hands to the bars of the bed’s headboard with one of Lys’ black stockings. She tried to kick him away, but found it impossible to move her legs as Paul was immobilizing them with his own. It was amazing how strong he was.
What was he going to do? Was he going to hit her? To rape her?? Or did he just want to scare the hell out of her? Prue had no idea. But the gleam of crazy malice he had in his eyes told her he would not settle to just frighten her. She was trapped and with no possibility to get away.
“Paul, what are you going to do to me?” her voice was uneven, her bottom lip slightly trembling. She was terrified, and he couldn’t be happier about it.
“Where’s yer courage now, Prudish?” he laughed out loud and she cringed. “What? What is it?” he smiled while he brought his face to hers. He had never been this close to her before and perhaps it was the alcohol in him, but she looked especially desirable to his eyes now. His right hand went to her chin, and he tried to hold her head still as he awkwardly pressed his lips against hers in a forced kiss. Prue was finally able to shake him off after some seconds, her face contorted in disgust: he reeked of alcohol. “Do you find me tempting now? Mmm?” Paul asked and he unconsciously rubbed himself against her crotch, his hard on extremely noticeable.
Prue’s eyes went as wide as plates as she kept on squirming, trying to get away from his troubling grip. He brought his hand to her face and, pressing on both cheeks with his thumb and index finger, made her open her mouth and kissed her again without hesitation and without the risk of being bit. Prue tried to scream and shook her body unrelentingly, all to no avail. Paul kept rubbing himself against her, and against her better judgement, she moaned in his mouth.
Paul stopped with a start and stared back at her. Her moan had jolted him back to reality. What on Earth was he doing?! He observed her. She was panting, flushed and her eyes showed surprise and a certain fear. She squirmed no more, just stared back at him.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered, feeling extremely embarrassed. He untied her quickly and with no more words, walked out of the room with fast steps.
Prue lay there, gasping, not believing what had happened. She took a hand to her chest and shook her head when she realized she felt a certain kind of disappointment.
“My God…” she whispered as she replayed everything in her mind. She had never felt such excitement. But now the question was… had she liked it??