me too, I know you would.’
‘So you think we should go then?’
‘You told him “no”, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, but he said if I changed my mind…’
‘You have! We’ve got to go! We’ll find a way,’ Penny said, grabbing hold of my hand in her excitement.
‘I don’t know,’ I replied. ‘He gives me a funny feeling. I think you might have been right about him. I think he might be after me.’
‘But I’ll be with you so you don’t need to worry about that. Oh come on, Susan. Just imagine it. Imagine seeing John Lennon in the flesh! The Fab Four, live, and us there in the audience.’
I smiled. ‘It would be memorable…’
‘So you’ll tell him you’ve changed your mind?’
‘If it all comes to something and he asks me again then all right, I’ll say yes. As long as he lets me bring you.’
‘I’ll be your chaperone! Oh, Susan, this is going to be wonderful. Come on, let’s go downstairs and put the record player on. I’ve got every Beatles LP there is!’
‘I know you have,’ I smiled. ‘Their biggest fan…’
‘We’re both their biggest fans,’ she replied, her eyes gleaming.
We climbed down the ladder, my misgivings from earlier completely tossed aside by Penny’s enthusiasm.
***
Monday was a shorter day for me at the shop – I was allowed to finish at four instead of five – so I always used the time to go to the library. I wasn’t as much of a reader as Penny, who read anything she could get her hands on, but I had my favourites: R. F. Delderfield was my writer of choice in January 1969. I was standing in the fiction section, reading the jacket on A Horseman Riding By, when I felt a presence behind me. I turned and saw a young lad wearing glasses who looked vaguely familiar, though I couldn’t place him.
‘You need to stay away from him,’ the boy said in a low voice.
‘I beg your pardon?’ I asked, thinking I’d been accosted by some sort of lunatic.
‘Please,’ he said, still in little more than a whisper. ‘Please stay away from my father.’
I realised then with a shock that it was Robin, only he looked completely different with glasses on, and without the sour expression. He looked anxious rather than sulky as he begged me to keep away from Mr Jenners.
‘But why?’ I asked.
The boy began to blush. ‘It’s not right,’ he whispered. ‘You’re too young for him.’
I found myself feeling irritated by his words. ‘I only came round for a cup of tea!’ I told him, indignantly.
‘But he’ll want more. He always does.’
‘What do you mean “always”?’ I asked, but he clearly didn’t want to say anymore. He turned away with a sigh then looked back at me. It was ridiculous to think he was Mr Jenners’ son: he didn’t look even a tiny bit like him. He was about a foot taller for a start and with human-sized teeth.
‘Just take my advice and stay away. You’ll thank me in the end.’
I felt a bit shaky after Robin had disappeared. There was a little stool for climbing up to reach the higher shelves so I sat down on that and stared, unseeing, at the heavy book I was still gripping.
There was a part of me that was grateful for the strange boy’s warning; a part of me that knew he was right and that there was something not quite right about Mr Jenners’ interest in me. But there was another bit of me, very likely inherited from my father, that felt pig-headed about it. I didn’t want to be told whom I could and couldn’t see, especially when it was innocent as far as I was concerned. I thought about Mr Jenners’ invitation to see the Beatles perform and how disappointed Penny would be if we didn’t go. But then again, it wasn’t definite yet anyway. I decided to leave it to fate. I would avoid meeting up with Mr Jenners again for the time being, but if he had news on the Beatles and made me that offer again… Well, then I’d at least think about it.
Decision made, I went over to the librarian and she stamped my book in an officious manner. I looked around the library and saw Robin sitting at a table, surrounded by books, his head down. He was a studious boy – that much was certain. He looked up and caught me staring. I gave him a half-smile but he just nodded, unsmiling, and ducked his