Chapter Three - She's Not a Girl Who Misses Much

Cynthia has an ultimatum for John

John, dressed in silks and sandals walked down to the Post Office to collect his daily correspondence. Letters from fans, from Yoko, from Christian organisations regarding meditation and one begging letter from an Indian fan called Mr. Bulla. This gentleman described himself as a poor clerk, his reason for writing was to ask for money for a world trip so that he could discover the "huge treasure" that he considered neccesary for inner peace. His quest for spiritual growth seemed to require his acquiring material possesions first. It wasn't unusual to receive such letters especially now that John's whereabouts was so well known. In the past John had tended to ignore requests like this but since discovering for himself the benefits of Transcendental Meditation, he felt the need to engage with fans and to give witness to its effects.

The day was bright with a cooling breeze and John felt peaceful and refreshed after his intense meditation experience. As he walked past flower beds of red hibiscus blossoms towards the open air dining bench tables, John wondered if anything had changed as a result of their efforts last night.

John sat down to breakfast alongside Alexis Mardas and George Harrison, thoughtlessly ignoring his wife Cynthia and Pattie Harrison who were sitting opposite chatting and smoking over their cups of strong tea. John pulled Mr. Bulla's letter from the pile he'd set down on the table and read from it aloud, much to the amusement of the two men. Taking a fountain pen from his silk jacket and a sheet of paper with the letterhead "Spiritual Regeneration Movement Foundation of India" John enlisted the help of George and Alexis to write a reply.

Dear Mr. Bulla,

Thanks for your letter. If every request like yours was granted �" there would be no “huge treasure” as you call it. You say “peace of mind minus all other things on earth is equal to nothing” �" this doesn’t make sense. To have peace of mind one would have to have all that one desires �" otherwise where is the peace of mind?

Even a “poor” clerk can travel the world �" as many people do �" including friends of mine some of whom are at this academy now, all equals “poor.” All you need is initiative �" If you don’t have this I suggest you try transcendental meditation through which all things are possible.

With love,

John Lennon
Jai guru dev

Engaging with fans directly over deeper subjects than had been the norm for a Beatle was invigorating for John. He enjoyed being able to communicate on a higher plain with his public. It had to be said however, that begging letters got under his skin. He'd earned his wealth, he deserved it for all the indignities that had been piled on the Beatles over these past five years and he made no apology for enjoying his money. He'd needed help from George and Alexis in order to write a more diplomatic response although they'd giggled quite a lot over the alternative answers they could have given. "Just tell him to f**k off" had been George's suggestion and they'd all huddled together laughing like a group of small boys. Across the table Pattie and Cynthia shot each other a glance.

Pattie was closest to Cynthia amongst the group although Alexis liked to tag along sometimes, hedging his bets by indulging the Beatle wives as much as the group itself. Cynthia had confided in Pattie over these last few weeks that she believed her marriage was over. Her relationship with John had been a series of false starts and broken promises. Despite assurances that they'd spend more time together she rarely saw him now and when she did, he acted like she wasn't there. First the band took him away from her, then the drugs, now this. At the start of this trip she'd hoped that this would be like a second honeymoon for them both, but that hope now lay in pieces as she sat watching her husband of nearly six years prefering to sit giggling away with his mates, rather than say hello to her.

Of course, there was also the nagging doubts she harboured about John's fidelity. Cynthia didn't want to think that John could have been unfaithful to her, the thought made her feel sick, but there was no denying that John had several close relationships with other women. She recalled how unusually inconsolable John had been when he heard the news about Alma Cogan's death. From then on she'd viewed the women in his life with suspicion. Maureen Cleave seemed to enjoy unlimited intimate access into John's mind, he was always extremely candid with Maureen, leading John to get himself into a world of trouble on their last tour. Most troubling was the tiny impish Japanese artist who kept inserting herself between them at social gatherings. It was clear to Cynthia that this woman had designs on John whether John chose to notice it or not.

The tipping point however, had come at the Magical Mystery Tour launch party when a drunken John dressed as a greaser had made a lecherous pass at Belly Dancer Pattie. She didn't blame Pattie for the incident but she couldn't let the matter go. It ate away at her almost constantly, John had just shrugged it off as drunkeness but that didn't satisfy her. She needed an answer, she needed to know now where she stood. Did his wife and his son matter at all to John anymore? The more John ignored her the more Cyn felt that she was acting like a crazy person. She hated feeling this out of control but she couldn't seem to stop. Every minor disagreement or argument at home ended with Cyn bringing up that bloody party again. In John's eyes Cyn was becoming a typical shrewish, nagging wife and he felt she was pushing him away.

Talking with Pattie had helped her organise her thoughts, she wasn't going to raise her voice or cry or act like a hysteric. Composure came naturally to her, she always spoke in low, measured, middle class Hoylake tones and despite the anger welling up inside her she felt calmer and more in control than she had for a long time.

Cynthia raised herself from her bench, leaned forward towards the giggling party and quietly but forcefully asked "John, can I have a word with you please?" Her tone and the seriousness of her expression stopped the laughing group cold. George and Alexis sat back on their benches looking sheepish. John peered at Cynthia over the top of his glasses and then realising that this was more of an instruction than a request quietly acquiesced.

Cynthia walked ahead along the path back to her room, past the vegetable gardens that serviced the extensive kitchen. Still carrying his letters, John followed along but acted with a kind of jovial nonchalance as he greeted fellow students they passed along the way. If there was going to be a scene, he wasn't about to let anyone else know about it. "Mr. Love" he intoned in a deep voice at Beach Boy Mike Love as their paths crossed. "Jonathan!" he he sarcastically called out to folk singer Donovan who smiled and waved back. When Prudence Farrow passed between them John merely nodded in awkward silence, unsure of how to greet a woman that his wife was unaware he even knew.

Walking into the room John noted how fastidiously tidy it was, the neatly arranged perfume bottles and make up trays on the bedside table, the sandals lined up neatly in front of the closet and the immaculate "hospital corners" of the bedsheets. In John's absence Cynthia had created her own perfect little world and here she was holding court, sitting in one of the rattan chairs beckoning him to sit in another. As he lowered himself into the seat she spoke with her slow, deep, considered, almost husky voice.

"I want to go home" she said and then paused for a response. Cynthia had removed the owlish circular glasses she'd worn for most of the course. She wanted John to see her eyes and know that she wasn't bluffing. The bright sun through the window beside her illuminated one side of her face her pale skin looking smooth and flawless. John had almost forgotten how pretty Cyn was, how expressive her eyes were, even after having that nose-job (which John was uncomfortable about) he now remembered all the things about her that attracted him. For a second he felt empathy with her, but his own hubris wouldn't let him be told what to do. He chose sarcasm over sympathy. "Well… I suppose I can't make you stay. When were you planning to leave?"

John knew how to push Cynthia's buttons, he always had. "John, you know full well I can't just walk out of here on my own. The minute I arrive at the airport the newspapers will be full of reports that we're breaking up. It could end up on the telly and then Julian might see it" she had raised her voice already, but now she caught herself and returned to her controlled speech pattern. "I want US to go home, to be a family like you promised me we would be."

"Cyn, I've not come all this way and spent all this time studying to just walk out for no reason" he leaned back in his chair exasperated. Cynthia bit her lip and tried not to let the tears inside her come brimming to the surface. "Do you still love me?" she dared to ask. John stared for a moment, she did look good today maybe he could cope with her constant complaining, maybe after this they could have "make up sex." "Yes" he replied "I married you didn't I?" Cyn was almost triggered to react but in the end chose to accept that this was probably the best answer she was going to get.

Since he hadn't mentioned the subject at all, Cynthia thought she would test John. "Do you know what day it is today?" John stared back blank faced, puzzled by the question. "Shall I help you?" asked Cyn "It's the 8th of April." John shrugged, he struggled to connect that date to any event that he could think of. "You really don't know, John?" John shot back, feeling cornered "I've no idea what your're talking about, Cyn"

"The 8th of April." she said through tearing eyes "It's our son's 5th birthday"

Author's Note

This is still pretty raw. It needs editing especially when put beside chapter four