I used to hate Cynthia Lennon.
A lot of us teenage girls were a bit psycho, that way, in the psychedelic Sixties. Pinning Beatles to our bedroom walls like crazed etymologists. Insanely jealous of wives and girlfriends. Fantasising about John/George/Paul/Ringo – take your pick – Eight Days A Week.
Cynthia was married to MY John. It was MY hand he wanted to hold. That was Yesterday. The Fab Four dropped to the bottom of my album collection and Cynthia didn’t cross my mind again for the next 40 years.
And then, last week, she did.
I went to see Julian Lennon’s Beatles Memorabilia Exhibition in Gibraltar (where John married Yoko Ono) and there was his Mum, Cynthia, … looking good (for her age) with a warm smile and thick (bottled) blonde hair, sharing intimate moments of her life with John from a TV screen.
As it turned out, not quite as I’d imagined…
Being the wife of a Beatle was not such A Taste of Honey … more of A Hard Day’s Night, as you may discover if you visit this extraordinarily personal exhibition and read between Cynthia’s poignant lines.
Among the platinum discs and treasured belongings that talk of fame and fortune there’s another story not doing too much struggling to get out about the husband and father known to the world as John Lennon.
A bit of a selfish sod, our John, despite his amazing talent! Too much Lucy in the Sky, perhaps…
Well, how would you feel? Your kid is involved in a car crash with your ex and his new bird and you hear it from the TV news! Cynthia freaks. No one has bothered to call. Not John, not Yoko. But, hey, Julian’s fine.Let it Be, woman!
Like a paper trail, the story unfolds through a timeline of albums and news cuttings, (and a line of white feathers stuck to the floor – but that’s Julian’s story, a child of five when he lost his Dad to divorce, and 17 when he lost him forever).
This is Cynthia’s story, told to music. To hear the songs and read the rest of the story see