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Three nights. Three nights in a row, George had to endure sharing a single bed with Ringo. Ever since the move to Hamburg, the sleeping situation had been less than ideal, but the four of them always managed to make it work. Now here they were, bunking above the dance floor at the Top Ten Club, and there were only 2 beds, both twin sized, so they had to cram together, 2 to a bed, and George had yet to get a good nights’ sleep.
The first night, George and Ringo did what any normal guys from liverpool would do in a bed-sharing situation; top and tail. Which would’ve been fine, except for the fact that they only had one blanket, and the Top Ten attic was freezing cold, especially with the April chill of a Hamburg evening.
Sleeping in the same beds gave everyone in the band an opportunity to get to know each other better, and in the last few days, George learned that Ringo is a blanket hogger. So, with Ringo pulling the one blanket they had towards himself, only George’s legs and torso were covered, leaving his arms and shoulders exposed to the cold.
“Sorry mate…” Ringo offered when George told him the next morning why there were bags under his eyes, but George tried to have patience. It was their first night, of course it would take a bit more time to get used to the arrangement.
“I’m secure!” Ringo said afterwards, “we don’t need to top and tail, I’m happy to share our blanket shoulder to shoulder!” Ringo offered him a smile, and George had hope for the night, unaware at the time that it would only get worse.
The only thing that irritated George more though, than not getting enough sleep, was the way Paul and John emerged from their room after the first night; both well rested and relaxed, laughing together at some stupid banter they were having.
Ringo asked how they slept, with concern after George’s answer to the same question, but the answer was not the same, as they both glanced to each other, nodding, and saying “fine, just fine!”
On the second night, Ringo Joined George at the head of the bed, facing the same way. They’d decided that the best thing to do would be sleeping back to back, both on their sides. That way they’d have plenty of space and would be able to share the blanket.
The pillow was thin, so it was difficult for George’s broad shoulder to lay comfortably on the pillow, but that wasn’t the only problem.
Of course, Ringo had fallen asleep fairly quickly, and once sleep takes over, actions can’t really be faulted. It didn’t matter that George managed to put the pillow in between his shoulder and neck for better support, because Ringo unconsciously rolled from his side to his back, leaving George with about 6 inches of space on the bed. He was also on the edge side of the bed rather than the wall side, so if George didn’t balance correctly, he could fall right onto the floor.
And if fact, George did wake up on the floor the next morning, and to make matters even worse, turning his head to the left sent a sharp pain through his spine.
And even more worse, once again, John and Paul came out together, no sign of sleep deprivation from either of them, as they offered their “morning, lads” to George and Ringo.
“You don’t look so good.” John had said to him, and he just rolled his eyes.
“It’s impossible to share these tiny beds, I can hardly get any sleep.” He responded. “How do you and Paul sleep so well?”
John only shrugged and bit out of an apple, so he turned to Paul.
“How do you and John get any sleep in the small beds?”
Paul sipped his tea slowly before saying, “we’ve just managed to figure it out.”
Great, thanks for all your help John and Paul.
The third night was the final straw, because the only thing that was worse than not being able to get comfortable in bed was, being comfortable in bed, and STILL not being able to get any rest.
George made sure Ringo’s shoulder was touching the wall before the lad fell asleep. This gave George more space than before, just enough to lay on his back as his arm overlapped with Ringo’s, which was fine. Not ideal, but much better than it had been before.
Then suddenly, right before George reached the threshold of sleep,
“hhhrrrğğğğğğhh”
George’s eyes shot open as the loudest snore he’s ever heard left Ringo’s body. The sound began to repeat and George sighed, nudging his friend to get him to wake up enough to breathe normally, but it was no use. Ringo would stop snoring for about 30 seconds, and then get right back to it.
What made it even worse than the other nights was that, the previous nights, George manages to catch a few Z’s, but on this particular night, George listened to the unpleasant sound of Ringo’s snoring until sunlight began to fill the room.
George waited for Ringo to wake up and leave the room before taking the bed for himself, spreading out like he should be able to, and taking an incredible nap, until the songwriting Beatles knocked at the door to retrieve him.
“Wake up, Georgie, we’ve got a gig!” John grabbed both of George’s ankles and shook him.
“Mmm…” George responded, turning his head away only for the slight crick in his neck to remind him that it was still there, waking him up even more.
“Come on, Hazza, we’ll get you some prellies.” Said Paul, trying to sound sincere and caring while tugging at George’s blanket.
George finally sat up, unable to open his eyes just yet and feeling slightly dizzy from trying to do such an awake thing so soon after regaining consciousness. “This sleeping arrangement is ass, I can’t get any sleep sharing..”
John’s voice filled the room, and George could see John’s expression without even having to open his eyes. “Well, it’s all we’ve got, yeah? So we’ll get you some prellies George, we don’t have time-“
“How the hell are you two sleeping okay? Ringo is only sleeping fine because I’m having a hard time. How are both of you getting enough rest?”
They glanced at each other and must have telepathically decided to ignore the question, as they already had the upper hand. “Get dressed George, we have 20 minutes.”
So George was determined, as he played his guitar along with his mates, in front of about 20 people, as it was only the middle of the day, that he was going to figure out how Paul and John were getting such good sleep in the terrible conditions. Why wouldn’t they tell him? Why wouldn’t they help him? Don’t they care about the success of the band? How was he supposed to help the band succeed if he could barely sleep?
That night, George layed on the wall side of the bed, giving Ringo the outside. Maybe this was the key to good sleep, but George only felt cramped up against the wall, unable to figure out how Ringo could sleep pushed against it.
Then the snoring started up again, and George wanted to scream and shake Ringo silly. He couldn’t believe that this was his life, there was really no end in sight for the arrangement. He could end up like this for months, never sleeping and only living on prellies and toast.
And all the while, John and Paul are across the hall, probably sound asleep. It typically wouldn’t infuraiate George, but the lack of sleep was making George go a bit crackers.
And he just couldn’t stand it any longer.
“Ringo…Ringo, wake up!”
George nudged the drummer until he woke in confusion. “What? What’s happening?”
“I can’t sleep, Ringo.”
“Oh, sorry George, am I snoring again?”
“Yeah Ringo, you always do…”
“Well sorry George-“
“Come on, get up.”
“What? Why?”
“Paul and John have been sleeping just fine, both of them. So let’s go see how.”
“How?”
“Yeah, let’s go see how they’re sleeping so we can be comfortable too.”
Ringo sat for a moment to think about the idea, then he nodded in agreement. “Alright George, I want you to be comfortable so let’s see if this helps.”
George led their way out of the room and down the hall to the next room, caticorner to their own. He tried the door, and it opened quietly. George peered his head around the corner of the door to see John and Paul in bed, but unfortunately it was too dark to actually see their position from the door.
“Go in.” Ringo whispered as quietly as he could.
“I am!” George answered, slowly tip-toeing across the floor towards John and Paul’s bed, and the closer he got, the more he began to realize how his mates were oriented in their bed.
John layed on his back, while Paul had his head on John’s chest, laying halfway on his side and his front. John had an arm around Paul’s body, and his head rested on Paul’s hair. Paul’s hand rested gently on John’s chest, in front of his own face, and their legs seemed to be tangled under the blankets, which they had 2 of, sending George spiraling.
George looked back towards Ringo, who, in the darkness of the room, gave George an expression of, ‘you still want to sleep how they do?’
George turned back to see John and Paul cuddled up together, basically holding each other, and there was only one thing he could think to do.
“Go get your camera.” He whispered to Ringo, who frowned in shock at George’s command, but he wordlessly left the room and returned about 10 seconds later with his camera.
George took it and snapped a loud, bright photo of John and Paul in bed, causing both of them to become disturbed in their sleep.
“What the hell was tha?” John croaked, putting his free arm over his eyes. Paul turned his head off of John’s chest to frown at whoever was disturbing them.
George walked back towards the door and found the light switch, turning it on to see his friends fully. “So this is it, eh? This is how you’re getting good sleep?”
Paul sat up off of John and rubbed his eyes. “Don’t be pissed at us because we’re smarter than you…”
“Yeah George, we told you, we figured out how to make it work, it’s not our fault you can’t sleep…” john added, reaching across Paul for his glasses on the night stand. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’d like to get back to it…”
George sighed. Of course it was this. Of course his stupid friends were so close that they had no problem cuddling and defending it as a good sleeping system. And they were right, obviously, because they were the ones waking up rejuvenated each morning.
“How did you figure it out on night one? And how the hell did you get another blanket?” George demanded, brows furrowed and arms crossed as the Polaroid photo in his hand developed.
“We bought it..” Paul answered his second question, grabbing a bit of the blanket’s fabric. “‘S cold up here.”
“This isn’t the first time we’ve shared a bed this small, either.” John added, to answer the first question. “And give me that photo!” Lennon suddenly reached towards George to take the photo, and George backed up.
“Oh, no, I bet Dot and Cyn would love to see this!”
“Oh, come off it, George..” Paul grumbled, and John stood up out of the bed to show George he was serious about taking the photo from him.
“Give us your other blanket and I’ll give you this.” George bargained, holding it up. John reached for it again, stepping towards George, but the younger moved away from him in time, leading to John chasing George all around the room for it.
“Give it back!”
“It was never yours!”
“I’m going back to sleep.”
“John, come back to bed!”
Ringo exited the room as George continued to evade John’s grappling hands, and Paul finally stood up, grabbing John’s arms to make him stop.
“Let’s just give him the other blanket and go to sleep, John…”
“Yeah, you’ve got each other’s heat to keep you warm anyways.” George antagonized with a smirk, and John snarled at him.
Paul grabbed the blanket that was provided by the Top Ten and handed it to George. “There, now the picture.” Paul held his hand out for George to give, and though having something over John and Paul sounded nice, he was more interested in going to sleep, so he placed the photo in Paul’s hand and walked out with his blanket.
Paul and John both sighed and shuffled back to the bed after flicking the light back off. Paul layed back down this time on his back, and John assumed Paul’s previous position, removing his glasses and laying his head on Paul’s chest. Paul wrapped his arm around John and pulled him closer.
“He’s gonna be an ass about this now isn’t he?” John asked quietly.
“Maybe, but only if he doesn’t get any sleep again. Which isn’t likely, now that he knows how to share a small bed.”
John snickered hugged Paul closely, closing his eyes. “We can get payback eventually.”
Paul nodded against John’s head as sleep began to return.
As George entered his and Ringo’s room, he sighed and leaned against the door, sliding down to the floor. He’d gone through all the trouble to figure out how John and Paul managed to sleep so well in the shitty conditions and all he got was this lousy blanket and the knowledge that his friends were possibly closer than he ever imagined. The only thing he could do now was get in bed and hope Ringo didn’t snore too soon.
“They got the picture?”
“I got their blanket.”
“Does that solve your problem?”
“One of them, we could top and tail again and have our own.”
“Or we could cuddle.”
“Piss off.”
Ringo laughed, causing George to crack a smile too, and despite his suggestion, he climbed into bed next to Ringo and rested his head on his friend’s shoulder. Ringo didn’t seem to mind, and he readjusted to put his arm around George’s shoulder. George’s head ended up on Ringo’s chest, and the sound of his heart beating lulled George to sleep faster than he could comprehend any sort of embarrassment at the situation. And before Ringo could let out a snore.
-
George emerged from the bedroom with a yawn, being the last one up for breakfast. He’d slept much better than the previous nights, with 2 blankets, Ringo’s body heat, and the rhythmic sound of Ringo’s heart in his chest, plus the secure hold the drummer had around him, George finally felt well rested and ready to perform for the lunch crowd.
“There he is! How was it George? Did you get your beauty rest?” John asked, antagonizing George.
“I don’t even need an upper.” He responded, taking his seat at the table and a bite from his toast. “Did you frame the photo I took?”
“No, in fact, we plan to burn it after the set today.” Paul answered, not bothering to look up from his plate of scrambled eggs.
“Why would you destroy such a precious memory?” George said with fake sincerity. Paul and John both rolled their eyes, and George glanced to Ringo, who grinned at him, and George grinned back, both stifling laughter.
“Come on, lads, let’s get down there.” Ringo interjected, filling the silence and changing the subject as he twirled one of his drum sticks between his fingers. The others took the opportunity to forget about the conversation and get on with the day.
The four of them made their way to the main floor of the Top Ten and started setting up the stage for the day. George watched as Paul tuned up his bass and Ringo tested his drums to make sure they sounded the way he wanted.
Then George saw John, who wasn’t actually setting anything up, but was admiring a small photograph, the photograph that George had taken of him and Paul the night before. George watched John smile and slip the photo in his pocket.
After the lunchtime set, John told Paul that he misplaced the photo, and might have accidentally thrown it away, so they unfortunately could not commit arson on it. It was almost believable, but later that evening, George watched as John slipped the photo into his suitcase and covered it with neatly folded clothes, and he couldn’t help but think that maybe there was more to the cuddling than having enough space to sleep in small beds.