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Description
"Oh...F**k." Said Evelyn.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Demanded the man in front of her. "Who told you where I live?"
"I'm sorry I'm sorry please I'm sorry" sobbed Evelyn Holding up her hands, Palms outward. Her eyes focused firmly on the floor. It was very hard to explain to anyone why you've just fallen through their window and interrupted, especially when that person is Paul McCartney, and especially when they're naked.
Also becoming intensely aware of this fact, Paul spun, presenting Evelyn with his other side, and snatched a towel off a rail in the wall. He flung it round his narrow waist.

"Right" he said, once again rounding on Evelyn with his arms folded. "Who are you?"
She flobbered for a while, and then threw her story at him as quickly as possible: " I'm sorry it was an accident I was in a tree there were men chasing me I had to go somewhere so I climbed it and then i couldn't get down your house was there I tried to get down the wall but the wind and the branch- " She gasped, hiccupping , but continued anyway. "I-I fell." She sniffed. "From the tree... I- well – the window was there..."

Her words hung in the air.
Paul stood looking at her, doubt still in his eyes. He seemed unsure of her, perhaps wondering if she was about to go insane and attack him like she's seen girls do on TV.
She filled her lungs. "If I hadn't come in here,  I'd be on the pavement in the street outside, with a leg broken or something." She spoke more slowly this time, "I didn't know you lived here."

Paul said nothing, eyes still flickering over her. Then he crossed to the window and poked his head out. Seemingly satisfied with seeing the branch lying out there, he withdrew his head, shutting the window. He lowered the toilet seat, and sat on it, beside Evelyn.  He sat there for a short while, and sighed. He ran a Hand through his hair, then wiped the shampoo from it onto his towel.
"What's your name?"
"Evelyn."
"Paul." He extended a hand. She took it tentatively, and he pulled her to her feet.
"Thank you" she said as their hands clasped.
"What For?" he said, confused.
"... Not throwing me back out the window?"
He gave a worried smile, then got up and threw her a towel. "Right, dry yourself off and I'll see if i can get you some clothes while yours dry. And then, you can come and tell me what exactly you were doing wandering around here alone at 3 o'clock in the morning..."
Blushing, she draped the towel around her shoulders and inspected the floor. Paul told her to dry herself off in the bathroom while he got her some clothes. Once he'd left, she wandered over to the huge cast iron radiator she'd been directed to drape her clothes over. She leaned against it for a while, soaking in the heat. It relaxed her. Strange that here, she felt safer than she had done for the past few days. But oh god, she was in Paul McCartney's bathroom. How many girls would kill to be in her position, she wondered.
Oh god. She was in Paul McCartney's bathroom.
A cautious knock startled her out of her musings, and the door opened a sliver. A bundle of neatly folded clothes was thrust into the room. She took them from the hand that held them. On the other side of the door, she heard Paul say " I'll be in the kitchen, just come down the corridor and turn left." And then he was gone.
Evelyn sat the clothes on the toilet seat and quickly stripped, setting all her clothes on the radiator. Naked for all but a fluffy towel, she inspected the clothes he'd brought her. She was half expecting  a shirt of his or something that would engulf her, but no, a Navy blouse and short grey skirt awaited her. She washed her underwear and put it back on to dry, then donned the clothes. She assumed they were his girlfriend's as they were slightly small on her. Once again fully clothed, she looked at the floor where something had fallen from the pile. She picked it up, then smiled to herself, and put on the pair of extremely Fluffy socks

Pushing the door open a sliver, she peered out. To the right a long red-walled corridor stretched. Carpet lay down the centre of the maple floor. The left side ended abruptly in a small alcove, wherein sat a tall copperfoil sculpture involving spirals.  She headed down the corridor. Paintings were dotted between doors. One such door lay open, and Evelyn glimpsed some tiles and an aga through it. She dithered outside for a while, and then palmed open the door. Paul was propped against the table in a shirt, reading something. At her entrance, he set it down.
"God, I dunno, some people just don't get it."
"What?"
"Oh, Pepper..."
You can put it on your food, thought Evelyn... So she said nothing. The kitchen was silent for a while. It was small in size, and slightly Victorian with the Huge Aga, white sink and Heavy table. There was a low sofa in the corner piled with Cushions. Paul spoke again.
"Right, now the bathroom's free I'll go finish me shower. I won't be a minute and there's teabags in that cupboard" he pointed, then edged around her and out the door.

Evelyn went over and sat on the sofa. The black kettle stared at her, eyeballing her with it's spout. She yawned. It had been a long night. She snuggled into the sofa's comfy embrace, eyes drooping. When Paul came back into the kitchen, she was sound asleep.

Description
"Oh...F**k." Said Evelyn.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Demanded the man in front of her. "Who told you where I live?"
"I'm sorry I'm sorry please I'm sorry" sobbed Evelyn Holding up her hands, Palms outward. Her eyes focused firmly on the floor. It was very hard to explain to anyone why you've just fallen through their window and interrupted, especially when that person is Paul McCartney, and especially when they're naked.
Also becoming intensely aware of this fact, Paul spun, presenting Evelyn with his other side, and snatched a towel off a rail in the wall. He flung it round his narrow waist.

"Right" he said, once again rounding on Evelyn with his arms folded. "Who are you?"
She flobbered for a while, and then threw her story at him as quickly as possible: " I'm sorry it was an accident I was in a tree there were men chasing me I had to go somewhere so I climbed it and then i couldn't get down your house was there I tried to get down the wall but the wind and the branch- " She gasped, hiccupping , but continued anyway. "I-I fell." She sniffed. "From the tree... I- well – the window was there..."

Her words hung in the air.
Paul stood looking at her, doubt still in his eyes. He seemed unsure of her, perhaps wondering if she was about to go insane and attack him like she's seen girls do on TV.
She filled her lungs. "If I hadn't come in here,  I'd be on the pavement in the street outside, with a leg broken or something." She spoke more slowly this time, "I didn't know you lived here."

Paul said nothing, eyes still flickering over her. Then he crossed to the window and poked his head out. Seemingly satisfied with seeing the branch lying out there, he withdrew his head, shutting the window. He lowered the toilet seat, and sat on it, beside Evelyn.  He sat there for a short while, and sighed. He ran a Hand through his hair, then wiped the shampoo from it onto his towel.
"What's your name?"
"Evelyn."
"Paul." He extended a hand. She took it tentatively, and he pulled her to her feet.
"Thank you" she said as their hands clasped.
"What For?" he said, confused.
"... Not throwing me back out the window?"
He gave a worried smile, then got up and threw her a towel. "Right, dry yourself off and I'll see if i can get you some clothes while yours dry. And then, you can come and tell me what exactly you were doing wandering around here alone at 3 o'clock in the morning..."
Blushing, she draped the towel around her shoulders and inspected the floor. Paul told her to dry herself off in the bathroom while he got her some clothes. Once he'd left, she wandered over to the huge cast iron radiator she'd been directed to drape her clothes over. She leaned against it for a while, soaking in the heat. It relaxed her. Strange that here, she felt safer than she had done for the past few days. But oh god, she was in Paul McCartney's bathroom. How many girls would kill to be in her position, she wondered.
Oh god. She was in Paul McCartney's bathroom.
A cautious knock startled her out of her musings, and the door opened a sliver. A bundle of neatly folded clothes was thrust into the room. She took them from the hand that held them. On the other side of the door, she heard Paul say " I'll be in the kitchen, just come down the corridor and turn left." And then he was gone.
Evelyn sat the clothes on the toilet seat and quickly stripped, setting all her clothes on the radiator. Naked for all but a fluffy towel, she inspected the clothes he'd brought her. She was half expecting  a shirt of his or something that would engulf her, but no, a Navy blouse and short grey skirt awaited her. She washed her underwear and put it back on to dry, then donned the clothes. She assumed they were his girlfriend's as they were slightly small on her. Once again fully clothed, she looked at the floor where something had fallen from the pile. She picked it up, then smiled to herself, and put on the pair of extremely Fluffy socks

Pushing the door open a sliver, she peered out. To the right a long red-walled corridor stretched. Carpet lay down the centre of the maple floor. The left side ended abruptly in a small alcove, wherein sat a tall copperfoil sculpture involving spirals.  She headed down the corridor. Paintings were dotted between doors. One such door lay open, and Evelyn glimpsed some tiles and an aga through it. She dithered outside for a while, and then palmed open the door. Paul was propped against the table in a shirt, reading something. At her entrance, he set it down.
"God, I dunno, some people just don't get it."
"What?"
"Oh, Pepper..."
You can put it on your food, thought Evelyn... So she said nothing. The kitchen was silent for a while. It was small in size, and slightly Victorian with the Huge Aga, white sink and Heavy table. There was a low sofa in the corner piled with Cushions. Paul spoke again.
"Right, now the bathroom's free I'll go finish me shower. I won't be a minute and there's teabags in that cupboard" he pointed, then edged around her and out the door.

Evelyn went over and sat on the sofa. The black kettle stared at her, eyeballing her with it's spout. She yawned. It had been a long night. She snuggled into the sofa's comfy embrace, eyes drooping. When Paul came back into the kitchen, she was sound asleep.