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Wimpole Street, Part 6 of 7
(In 1964, Paul McCartney was staying at 57, Wimpole Street, the home of Jane Asher. McCartney was allowed to use the basement for writing (Margaret Asher, mother of Jane, was a professor of music, and the room was set up for rehearsal). He announced his engagement to Jane on Christmas Day 1967, but by then he had already been seeing Linda Eastman for nine months. When Jane left for a vacation in the summer of 1968, Paul invited yet another woman to move into his home. When Asher returned unexpectedly and found McCartney and the woman in bed, the relationship came to an abrupt end. Perhaps McCartney did it to extricate himself from the Asher engagement.) Yesterday When I was younger, so much younger than today, I once had a girl (it was the year before Shea). She showed me her room: “Isn’t it good? Norwegian wood.” She asked me to stay and said I could sit anywhere, so I went to the basement – the piano was down there. “I’ll tell you something I think you’ll understand,” said my best friend John: “You’re gonna lose that girl. It won’t be long.” I’ve lost her now for sure. I won’t see her no more. But I couldn’t use a Sloane, so why on earth should I moan? I crawled off to sleep in the bath. I went into a dream of people and things that went before … I think I overstayed, but that was yesterday. I’ll buy you a diamond ring, my friend, If it makes you feel alright But I can’t help but think, my friend, it’s been a hard day’s night. The girl that’s driving me mad is going away: I’ll get my claws on Clancy without the least delay. You call it treason when you come poking about, but I’ve got a good reason for taking the easy way out.
Copyright © 2024 Michael Coy. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs