"Really? What kind?"
"Mmm...maybe of children's fiction, I love making up stories. Or journalism. I like finding things out and interviewing people. In fact, I have a paper due on the very first day of school in two months; I have to interview someone and I haven't the slightest clue what to do!"
"I do." I looked up; it was Paul speaking.
"What?"
"You could interview me. Talk about getting a good mark on a paper."
"Yes, but...but they'd say I was lying."
"Well, we'll have to take a picture of the two of us, won't we then?"
"Preferably with clothes on," put in John. I almost died, but instead elbowed John even harder in the side. George Martin laughed, and I blushed red as a beet: we were definitely getting off of the subject.
"Do you play anything else? Or does anyone else in your family?"
"Oh, yes, I should have told you before. My younger sister Charlotte plays piano, clarinet and sings, and my older sister, Antonietta, plays oboe."
"Really?" George Martin seemed interested.
"Yep! She's great at it too. She's also really smart, really pretty, really funny...." I turned around and gave John a Look. His eyes widened.
"Are you implying something, Penny?"
"Who, me? Never!"
"Antonietta..." pondered George, "that's a nice name. Where's it from?"
"It's Italian. My mom's Italian, so that's where her name originated. Technically from my mother's mother."
"And how old is Antonietta?"
"She's nineteen." The Beatles looked at each other.
"Don't even think about it!" I laughed, feeling a slight tinge of jealousy, "she's happy with her boyfriend David, leave them alone!"
"All right now, steer back to the topic," said George Martin, smiling broadly, "as I was saying before, do you play any instruments other than piano?"
"Yes, I've sung in a chorus in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, for five years, and I play guitar."
"You DO?" That was John; I had gotten his attention.
"Yeah...a little bit, anyway."
"What do you play on it?"
"You don't want to know."
"No, tell me."
"Beatles songs."
John roared with laughter, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out what was so funny. He was snorting, tears falling down his face, and he couldn't stop. He staggered out of the room, holding his side with one hand.
"Wow," I commented dryly, "who knew I could get a laugh out of John Lennon?"
HOORAY! We've Reached the End of Chapter Three...Let's Continue With Chapter Four!
Before You Move On...........
Once again, I feel obliged to make a warning. The following chapter contains material that you may find offensive...it is much more graphic than the material before, for which I issued a word of hesitance. (The chapter's name is 'Making Love to Only You' if you want a hint as to the sort of thing going on in it.) Please, if you are too young to read this, do not read it. It is most assuredly not 'gross', simply graphic. It is also, however, my favorite chapter in the story!!! So, it's your choice! I just wanted to give you an idea of what you'll be reading! I hope you like it!!!!
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