All you need is love

ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE

"When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to
me."
The slightly off tune rendition floated over the grit-grey, shallow,
mid-morning sun as the slightly off colour vocalist leaned heavily on a
chin stubble broom that had, like the sweeper, seen better days.
"Joey Salter, you're drunk!"
"Don't worry, Mary, I'm in charge of a brush not a bus!"
Joey Salter watched as Mary Cassidy tutted in mock indignation before
disappearing to start her day's shift. She was blessed with the title
of 'House Mother' at the Strawberry Fields Nursing Home. Thus, Joey's
affectionate nickname 'Mother Mary'. She was, in fact, four years
younger than him but he found plenty of opportunity to tease her about
her "maternal duty to 16 geriatrics".
He managed to hold down the job of caretaker and general dogsbody at
the same establishment. His continued employment in this post was, in
no small part, due to the intervention and persistence of Mary Cassidy.
On many occasions, she had managed to persuade the Board that Joey's
absences, carelessness and drunken indiscretions were due to stress and
premature senility. She felt that it was worth making the effort
because Joey, when he made the effort, was a warm, humorous, caring
individual. Mary was also one of the few people who could stimulate him
into making that effort. It meant corny jokes and beautiful smiles but
the warmth and love was so comforting.
Joey Salter had come to work at the Home more out of necessity than
desire. It had been a case of quirky coincidence rather than strategic
planning that had affected his decision. He had woken from a stupefying
session of alcohol and tranquillisers to find himself homeless,
helpless and, most significantly, penniless. A few days of morbid self
pity had resulted in nothing but the depressing reality that he was
sober and in need of a job. A trip to the Job Centre brought glorious
reminiscences of his younger, heady days and an interview. It was the
name 'Strawberry Fields' that had sparked the embers of past
flame-filled encounters.
His claim to fame was that he had worked as a roadie for the Beatles.
For several years, he had been filled with the catchy, catch-all rhythm
of life on the move with the famous group. Fame obviously did not
embrace the people who worked in the background but they certainly
enjoyed a fairly prestigious position in their own social world. More
importantly, for Joey at least, was the fact that the group, despite
their fame, encouraged a great sense of loyalty and friendship. Every
member of the crew was known to them and Joey, in particular, developed
a strong relationship with the four boys. It was based firmly in their
roots and the warmth and humour that came with the heritage of
Liverpool and its people.
The work was hard and furious but always interesting and enjoyable,
the atmosphere at any Beatles concert or event was infectious and
stimulating. No-one could escape the raw excitement or constant buzz of
anticipation. Joey lived his life on that high plateau of nerve
tingling involvement. His success with women was based on a chat up
line relating his exploits, dropping many famous names and flavouring
the whole lot with his natural and very genuine sense of humour. He
enjoyed the wild parties and outrageous escapades, which seemed to be
the perfect outlet for his sense of rebellion. He could not think of a
better time to be alive, the best years of his life
The worst years started after the break up of the group. For Joey it
was like a painful divorce. The love of his life had betrayed him, left
him. He tried to recapture the magic of past glories. He continued with
the parties, spending a great deal of time in soulful monologue. The
chat line became clich?d and tawdry, the humour drab. Friends drifted
away, tired of hearing his pathetic pleadings for the "good, old days."
He slid into the pit of self pity. When the solitude and depression did
come, he was left with the savage reality of his self imposed decline
and the soothing magic of his Beatles songs.
Both had brought him to the job at the Home. Mary Cassidy had made him
stay there. They had become good friends. Joey admired the passion and
courage that Mary constantly displayed. He loved her self effacing
modesty and marvelled at her warmth and compassion. Mary felt at ease
in Joey's company. She listened enthusiastically as he related his
stories. He had learned to tell them with a renewed affection and just
an occasional hint of remorse. They enjoyed each other's company in so
many ways. Joey was able to grow and adjust in the safety of another
pleasant relationship. Mary found a fresh, new stimulus for her
energies and emotions.
The long, painful period of self-destruction had had a powerful effect
on Joey. His moods often swung and dipped into the swamp of depression.
Solitude was a convenient yet still unbearable state. At these times,
his job was unnecessary and alcohol was his life blood. But, with
Mary's help, he managed to drag himself back and shake off the cloak of
self deception.
The Board of Governors of 'Strawberry Fields' were not as
understanding as Mary. Their main concern was value for money from
their employees and basic essentials for their residents. So Joey was
under constant pressure from the Board and especially Margo Cameron who
was Matron at the Home and Vice Chairman of the Board.
Her style was cool, stern efficiency. She expected her nurses, mainly
young and impressionable, to conduct themselves in the same way. Her
grim, unsmiling approach was certainly not conducive to a warm and
comfortable atmosphere. There again, the building was not particularly
warm and comfortable. Joey did his best to eliminate draughts and leaks
but a large, Victorian building often presents a gloomy, drab exterior
with an absence of warmth inside. A difficult problem. A lot like Margo
Cameron was Joey's opinion.
"Mr Salter, are you planting that brush or is there some chance that
you might use it?" The acid tongue spat out Cameron's Law. "We are here
to work, Mr Salter, not to 'Pasa Doble' with a broom!"
"It was the 'Twist'."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said I was doing the 'Twist' D'you want a go? No, better not, you
might knacker your knickers! How about you, Lady Madonna?" Joey
sauntered over to the frail looking woman who shuffled along beside
Margo Cameron. He recognised the spark of rebellion that came into her
eyes as he took her by the hands and began to sing and dance. Mrs Freda
Hillman threw back her head and roared with laughter.
"I haven't done this for years. It's wonderful!"
"Mrs Hillman, stop that at once!"
"Oh, shut up, Sourpuss. You hate to see us laugh, don't you?"
Joey stopped twirling the old lady and stepped back. "Well, that's
enough for today, Lady Madonna, we don't want you..."
"Croaking it? No, we mustn't give her that pleasure, must we? Thanks
for the dance, Sergeant Pepper."
He blew her a kiss and walked off whistling 'Fool on the Hill'. He
often shared this private joke with Freda along with the nickname he
had given her. He gave one to all his close and trusted friends. He
numbered most of the residents among his friends. The nicknames,
inevitably, had some connection with the Beatles. As well as good
friends, he found the old folk a receptive and appreciative audience
for his tales of nostalgia. He was sure that, often, his little jokes
and friendly words were the only communication that some of them
received all day. He often scolded himself for thinking of them as old.
He was only a few years younger than some of them but he thanked God
that the spark of hope could still be found in his eyes. Mary saw to
that.

He and Mary had battled hard to bring some energy and interest into
the lives of the residents. They held impromptu singsongs, concerts and
dances. The residents thoroughly enjoyed the sessions but Margo and the
Board frowned upon such endeavour. They looked on it as undignified,
demeaning and a complete waste of time.
The battle had gone to the Boardroom. Several times, Joey had
interrupted a Governors' Meeting to plead for the dignity of his
friends. He accused every member of insensitivity and mercenary greed.
He questioned their motives and cursed their callousness. He pleaded
for just a little financial help and a bit of support for his efforts.
Joey only ever felt ice-cold disdain and rejection.
More often than not, Mary had to plead for Joey's reinstatement. He
had considered extraordinary direct actions but he normally managed to
satisfy himself with a boisterous sing along in the Communal Hall.
Needless to say, most of the residents were only too glad to join
him.
Despite her anger at their apparent cold-blooded refusal to
acknowledge the basic needs of fellow human beings, Mary remained
fairly diplomatic in her dealings with the Board and the rest of their
employees. However, her popularity with the residents was a constant
annoyance to the rest. Margo Cameron's cold, efficient style was often
met with cold, efficient silence from the residents. The atmosphere was
noticeably colder than the radiators, and, like thin ice, excessive
pressure meant that something had to crack. It was Mary's
patience.
"Margo Cameron, you are the most uncaring, cold-hearted bitch that I
have ever come across. You make the Gestapo look like the Red Cross.
How can you be so horrible to those people?" Mary had erupted after
watching the latest humiliation of Jack Keating whose weak body often
shook with nervous frailty that occasionally led to mishaps. This time,
he had spilt his dinner.
"How dare you speak to me like that! I will report you to the Board.
You are finished here, Mary Cassidy!"
Mary was, indeed, finished. She was summoned to a meeting the
following day. She was given no chance to explain but merely told that
her services were no longer required. But in true Scrooge-like fashion,
they demanded that she earn her money and work out the rest of the
week. Mary left the meeting with the image of Margo Cameron's smug,
supercilious expression lingering like a bad witch nightmare.
Joey found her crying in the corridor.
"What's up, kid?"
"I've been sacked, Joey."
His reaction was anger.
"The miserable, selfish bastards! I'm going to tell them exactly what I
think of them."
"No, Joey, leave it. It won't do any good. They'll only sack you as
well." Despite her upset, Mary remained sensible and logical.
"But Mary, they can't sack you. This place needs you. The old folk love
you and I...I'll miss you."
"Don't worry, Joey Salter, you won't get rid of me that easily. Who
else will keep you off the booze? And you haven't finished that story
about America."
"Mary, if I can do anything about it, you won't be going
anywhere!"
The look in his eyes was one of vulnerable determination. Mary somehow
believed that with Joey, anything was possible. He stormed off,
breaking into song. She was slightly concerned that the song he was
singing was 'Revolution'

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming at such short notice." Joey
welcomed the puzzled members of the Governing Board. "I am sure that
you are wondering what the invitation is all about."
Each member had received an invitation to attend a historic and
unforgettable meeting of the newly formed 'Residents Committee'. The
Press had been invited and the prospect of some free publicity and
exposure had appealed to the mercenary vanity of all the members.
Needless to say, 'Presented with a little help from my friends' had
left them slightly bemused.
"Well, you are about to witness a major moment in history. Behind these
doors, ladies and gentlemen, waiting in excited anticipation, is the
combined brilliance and talent of our own dear residents."
Joey stepped aside and, as he pushed open the doors of the communal
lounge, announced:-
"Friends, Members of the Board, may I present to you the 'Strawberry
Fields' "Geriatric Ono Band!"
There, sitting on wardrobes, mattresses, tea chests and cushions were
the 16 residents - stark naked! They wore head bands, beads and a
wicked smile. They sang at the top of their voices:-
"All we are saying, is give us a chance."
Freda and Jack led the protests:-
"Margo is excess cargo! Should she stay?"
"Oh no! Oh no!"
"We all love Mary. Should she go?"
"Oh no! Oh no!"
"Do we get a smile from the nurses?"
"Oh no! Oh no!"
"Do we get treated as human beings?"
"Oh no! Oh no!"
Joey turned to face the flabbergasted members and told them, "That's
why they're called the 'Ono Band' By the way, the Press will be here in
about fifteen minutes. I think you had better have an emergency Board
meeting."

Joey sat on the bench in the garden. He quietly smiled to himself as
he thought of the outrageous antics that were going on behind the
great, wooden doors.
"When I find myself in times of trouble, Joey Salter fights for
me."
"Hi, kid, sorry about all that."
"I'm not. You are now looking at the new Matron of this place. I start
Monday."
"That's brilliant! All you needed was a little help from your
friends."
Mary came over and sat down beside him. She put her arms around his
neck and slowly drew him towards her.
"But. but Mary, what if..."
"Ssh...just 'Let it Be'"
With that, she kissed him softly yet passionately. When the kiss was
over, Joey, with a huge grin on his face, gently put his arms around
her shoulder and began to sing:-
"Baby's good to me, you know...."