"Right here" I said as I came out from behind the door.
Paul turned towards me, and the smile on his face faltered and died; he stared at me looking as if he was seeing a ghost.
"Anne" he said, in a hollow voice, "Is it really you?" He came towards me, reaching for me.
It was my turn to be shocked. "How do you know my name?" I asked, taking a step backwards.
"We have met before," he replied, still advancing, his eyes never leaving mine. He almost looked like he was sleep walking.
"No we haven't. I think I would remember meeting Sir Paul McCartney," I said, in a tiny voice, realizing before the words were out of my mouth that I believed him, even though I did not see how such a thing could be possible.
Suddenly Paul looked around apparently recalling that we were not alone. Paul was suddenly all business again.
"O, I'm sorry. You just resemble someone that I have met. Her name was Anne too. Must be a coincidence," he said, lightly. I could tell that he was lying. As he spoke his eyebrows lifted. For some reason I knew that to be a sign that he was lying.
"There go your eyebrows again," I said without thinking.
Smiling, Paul leaned close and whispered "You always used to say that to me when I was lying".
Then he pulled back and began chat idly with Sandy. While he was talking to her, my mind was spinning. Had I dreamed this whole thing? Did Paul McCartney really think he knew me? How was this possible? During his entire conversation with Sandy, Paul's eyes kept finding mine. I just knew some of that had to be real.
"So where did you get that dress, Anne? A girl I knew had a dress just like that in the 60's" Paul asked me.
"Oh, I found it in a vintage resale shop. In my home town" I replied.
"Oh Texas, right?" he asked.
"Yeah, how did you know?" asked Sandy.
"Oh, I could tell by your accents" he replied, those eyebrows going up again. Ignoring me for the moment, Sandy continued to pelt Paul with questions about his Beatle days.
After a few minutes of that, Paul's assistant came in and said that her employer only had a few more minutes and that we needed to wrap it up. His assistant gave Sandy and me pictures of Paul for him to sign. He signed Sandy's first, and took a lot longer signing mine. He gave them back to us, and I took mine without looking at it. I was too busy looking at Paul.
With that the assistant said it was time for Paul to go.
"Well it was nice to meet you Sandy. It's always nice to meet a fan. I hope you'll come to see me again," he said, taking her hand. He released it, and reached into his pocket.
"You can count on it," Sandy replied. He just nodded and turned towards me.
"And nice to meet you Anne," he said, taking my hand in both of his. I felt two sensations when he touched me. The first was the unmistakable coldness of metal. The second and most powerful sensation was purely a physical jolt; my heart began to race and my face flushed. Paul released my hand and left there a piece of jewelry. I stared at him open-mouthed; I had never felt anything like that from another person. I never expected to feel such a thing just from touching an aging rock star. I could tell that he felt something too. Taking one more long look at me, he abruptly turned and left the room.
I stood staring at the door for several heartbeats, before Sandy broke my concentration.
"What was that? How did he know your name? Why did he keep staring at you like that? Why did you keep staring at him? What is that in your hand?" Sandy asked, without taking a breath.
I stood there waiting for her barrage of questions to stop. After her last question I looked down at my hand, and was surprised to find a gold locket there. It was oval shaped, and had an engraving on the front. I raised the locket to eye level, peering at it closely to read the inscription. There was a heart engraved upon the golden oval, and inside of the heart was this:
AO & PM
My initials and Paul McCartney's! Upon closer inspection I found a small clasp. I was about to open it when Sandy, evidently irritated at me for not answering he right away, made a grab for the locket, inadvertently knocking it out of my hands. I scooped it up quickly and dropped it into my pocket before she could get it.
"I don't know what just happened," I replied truthfully. "Can we leave now?" I asked. I didn't want to stay in this room; I was beginning to feel really freaked out.
Sandy looked about the argue, but I guess she could see how upset I was, because the anger left her eyes, and she quietly said, "Okay. Let's go."
As we were leaving the building we walked right past the W.C. I stopped and Sandy looked at me questioningly. "I thought you were in a hurry to get out of here," she said, "Come on."
"Wait just a minute," I told her, "I really need to use the bathroom."
"All right. I'll wait out here for you" she replied.
That was exactly what I wanted to hear. I felt the need to be alone for a moment, but I didn't want to say this to Sandy. Besides, she seemed a little suspicious as it was.
As soon as the door shut behind me in the W.C., I took the locket back out. I opened the clasp and found two pictures. One was of Paul McCartney, young, as he had been in my "Hallucination", and the other picture was unmistakably me.
I was so shocked I dropped the things that were in my hands, the locket and the autographed picture of Paul. When I bent to pick them up I noticed the writing on the picture. I picked it up and pulled it closer to read the writing. It said:
My Anne with an E,
Though I have lived these many years without you, I hope that there is some way you can change that. Please, come back to me. I love you. Always have, and always will.
Love,
Paul
