July 8, 1957. Just four days left to somehow get Paul and John to meet.
My cœur, coeur pounded as we neared the train on its platform, this time not only because Paul was holding my hand. This train was a lot bigger, bulkier, and scarier than the ones in my time, spewing black smoke into the air around it. I wasn’t sure I trusted it to take us all the way to Wales without breaking down ou worse. And I didn’t know if we would be able to pull off jumping on the train without tickets. And I didn’t know for sure if John was even here. I kept glancing around the platform, looking to see if I could...
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