The Beatles stopped in the doorway, a little surprised, but not very. Girls had gotten past security to see them before. Just this afternoon they had found a girl in their car boot, after all.
This girl, at least, wasn’t screaming, but looked at them with a pretty smile. Her fair-skinned face was made up like an actress’s and her shiny black hair fell to her shoulders before coming back up in a flip, held back por a red headband. She had on a red-and-blue dress that showed off her slender figure beautifully.
“There tu are,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for you.” She spoke as though the Beatles had just entered her hotel room and not the other way around.
The Beatles all murmured polite hellos, and then George spoke. “Look,” he said, “it’s nice to see our fans and all, but we’re tired. We’ll give tu our autograph, and then you’ve got to leave.”
The pretty girl shook her head. “Oh, no I can’t, not yet. I didn’t come in just to meet tu – although that was part of it,” she added, with a meaningful smile at George. “I’ve got to tell tu something.”
“Fine with us,” dicho George with a small grin, as he sat himself on the sofá siguiente to the pretty girl. “Why don’t tu tell us how tu got inside our hotel room?”
“Or how tu knew which room to go into?” added Paul, as he and the other Beatles took seats opposite the pretty girl and George.
“Or how tu knew which hotel we were staying at?” Ringo added.
“Knock it off, lads, she’s a fan,” laughed John. “She knows everything about us, don’t you?”
The pretty girl rolled her eyes. “Please. It was obvious tu were going to stay in the best hotel in the city, and then all I had to do was read the register. Don’t insult my intelligence,” but she smiled as she dicho it.
The Beatles noticed that she hadn’t mentioned how she’d gotten into the hotel room o even how she’d gotten a look at the hotel register in the first place, but decided not to press the issue. “What did tu really want to tell us?” Paul asked instead.
“And who are you?” added George, staring at the pretty girl with a slight frown (but also with some admiration; she was quite lovely, after all.)
The girl took a breath. “My name’s Karen Dale, and I’ve got to tell you... at work today, I overheard some things, and I think – tu four are in danger,” she finished. Her dark blue eyes turned appealingly from one Beatle to the other, wide with concern.
“What?” came from all four Beatles at once.
“How could tu know a thing like that?” John demanded.
Karen frowned. “My dad manages a hotel – a different one – , my mum works for the local newspaper, I work at the makeup comprar where half the women in the city come and talk about things, and I've got friends all over the city. I know almost everything that goes on round here. And today, I heard some talking – some voices, I couldn’t make out everything, but they dicho something about... getting rid of you. For good.” She stared hard at the three Beatles sitting opposite her, and clutched George’s wrist with her small, perfectly manicured fingers. “You’ve got to believe me.”
The Beatles exchanged glances. “All right...” Ringo dicho slowly, “say there was someone saying that – how could they get at us? How could they do anything to us?”
Karen frowned. “I got into this hotel room, didn’t I? If I wanted to – hurt tu at all, I could have done it as soon as tu came in!” Her voice broke slightly. “It wouldn’t have been that hard.”
“What are tu telling us?” asked George, thick eyebrows wrinkling. “Not to let strange birds into our hotel rooms? You’re not followin’ your own advice, then.” He favoured her with a mischievous, sharp-toothed grin.
Karen smiled back. “No,” she replied. “I also heard these voices say that they were actuación now because – tu four were trying to find new girlfriends? And they sounded angry.” She stared from one Beatle to the other almost accusingly.
John gave a small laugh, Paul raised his eyebrows, Ringo blinked, and George frowned a little harder. Karen had dicho she knew everything that went on, but they had only made the decision that very afternoon. “News travels fast por the fan Post,” John remarked.
“So it’s true, then?” Karen demanded. “You are looking for girlfriends? How could tu think of that? Make yourselves unavailable all at once, and you’ll have all your fans mad at tu too – and you’re going to need our help when these other people start threatening you! Although,” she added thoughtfully, “I suppose it might be all right – tu know, if tu have four of your best fans around tu all the time on this tour, we could protect you.” She smiled at the thought. “Well, there’s one of tu won’t have to look for his girlfriend any longer,” she declared, wrapping her slender arms round George’s neck. “I volunteer. I choose you.” She planted a soft kiss on his hollow cheek.
George frowned slightly. Yes, part of him liked being kissed por this beautiful girl, but on the other hand – this wasn’t what the Beatles had decided to do. Find girlfriends who weren’t fans, that was what they had all agreed on. And he wanted to chase after his own girlfriend, not have her throw herself right to him.
“Look, Karen,” George started, gently unwrapping her arms from around him. Karen frowned. “You’re a nice girl and all, but – we had something else in mind.”
“Something else? Like what?” Karen frowned. “You’re not going to find anyone prettier than me, if that’s what you’re thinking!” She arranged herself on the sofá to mostrar off her petite figure to its best advantage, stuck out her glossy lower lip, and batted her heavily mascaraed lashes.
George couldn’t help admiring what he saw. No, George, he thought firmly. “Karen,” he tried again. “We’ve decided to find girlfriends who – aren’t Beatles fans.”
Karen stood up abruptly, abandoning her attempts to charm George. “You’re what?” she dicho very quietly.
Ringo decided to help out his friend a little. “It’s just so’s they’ll amor us for other reasons,” he tried to explain, “not just ’cause they amor our music....”
“That,” dicho Karen, her voice low and deadly, “is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of.” Her small hands clenched into fists. “You’re trying to find someone to amor tu who doesn’t amor the Beatles. That’s what tu are, all of you, you’re Beatles! tu don’t take off your Beatle suits when you’re done on stage and – and transform into something different! It’s who tu are! tu try and find someone who loves tu without loving the Beatles and you’ll get someone who doesn’t amor tu at all!”
The Beatles all stared at her, not used to having a fan yell at them o tell them off like this. It made them a little uncomfortable; they usually tried so hard to make sure the fans continued to amor them as well as their music. They could only imagine what Brian Epstein would say about the effect this would have on their popularity.
Karen took a deep breath. “I can’t make tu listen to me,” she decided, her voice even-toned again. “You boys do what tu want, but trust me – this is the first time you’ve had a really bad idea, and you’re going to regret it.” She turned on her shiny red heels and marched out of the hotel room.
The boys stared at the door after her. “Too bad she was a fan, George,” John grinned at his friend. “She was quite a choice bird, wasn’t she?”
George was frowning thoughtfully. “Do tu think she knew what she was talking about?” he wondered aloud. “About us being in danger?”
“Maybe,” Ringo shrugged. “But maybe she just wanted an excuse to fecha you.”
“This doesn’t stop us trying to find our new girlfriends, though?” Paul looked at his three best mates. “I’m looking adelante, hacia adelante to mine.”
“If she’s half as good-looking as that Karen was, I’m there,” George agreed, smiling his mischievous smile again.
“Right,” John agreed with a decisive nod. “We won’t let what she dicho stop us. We can’t change our plans every time someone decided they don’t like us, can we?”
The other Beatles shook their heads, smiling, and por the time they went to bed, they had put all feelings about their encounter with Karen out of their minds.