Such improvements, and more, helped lasso the Beatles their first fan. Pat Moran was an intelligent 16-year-old Catholic girl from Wallasey who went to the Grosvenor most Saturdays. Her mother died when she was nine and she was raised solely by her disciplinarian Irish father. 'He wouldn't let me wear any make-up and I couldn't wear trousers, only a skirt, and he'd knock hell out of me if I misbehaved. One time, I came home late from seeing the Beatles and he'd locked me out. He stood in the bathroom above the front door and shouted "You're late" and wouldn't let me in.' Such was Pat's passion for the Beatles, it was all worthwhile. "I loved their music and the way they played it. My favourites were Tutti Frutti, Long Tall Sally, Cathy's Clown and Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On- oh and Red Sails In The Sunset was beautiful. I can't say they were great musically because I don't know - my idea of music at that age was inexperienced - but they were certainly entertaining. They played music we knew, that we'd heard on the radio, but to hear them doing it was different: when John and Paul sang a rock and roll song together we'd all be dancing. John was the leader. He used to talk to Paul and then they'd play something, but Paul was also the leader in a way because he was very much part of it. Certainly it was between Paul and John as to who took the lead. Paul was my favourite. I can still picture him at the front with his guitar, left-handed. He was on the left side of the stage, then George alongside him, then John, and Stuart on the right." Something in the Beatles touched Pat Moran deeply, in a way she'd never experienced or expected. Chatting to Paul at the Grosvenor, she gathered they had hardly any money and spent weekends in John's flat at Gambier Terrace, not always with much to eat. She had a job and wanted to give something back to them for all the pleasure they gave her, so every Sunday morning after church she took the ferry across the Mersey and the bus up from the Pier Head with a wicker basket of food for them.
"Friends went with me, I wouldn't have dreamed of going on my own, and we'd arrive about midday. They were always up - we never arrived to find them unclothed - but the flat was horrible. There weren't even chairs to sit on, so we'd either sit on a bed or stand leaning against the window. We'd just talk for a while, then I'd pick up the empty basket and go home to Wallasey. This happened maybe half a dozen times. They were so friendly and pleasant, no massive egos. Stuart was lovely: very quiet, gentle, a really nice guy, small with dark glasses, and with fairer hair than Paul. John was nice but very different. I got the feeling he wouldn't have bothered having us there if Paul wasn't friendly with me. So John accepted that - he opened the door and let us through. Cynthia was there once but I can't say she spoke to us. George didn't really say anything. He wasn't unpleasant, he used to say 'Hello' and 'What did you think of us last night?', but that was about it. I mostly spoke to Paul. He was friendly and there was no unpleasantness about him at all - he didn't stand off or anything, he was just a nice boy. There was no sexual relationship between us, we were simply mates and I was a good girl, still a virgin when I married in my twenties. I'm sure others were willing to give themselves to him. He'd give me a hug when we met and we held hands when we walked together, but he treated me right. We occasionally met at the Jacaranda for a tea or coffee. I paid and that was right: I had a job and he didn't. He was very chatty - he told me he was really McCartney, not Ramon, he talked about his songwriting and we laughed because it seemed such 'a teenage thing'. He talked a lot about the Beatles: how hard they needed to work to earn money and how they hoped to become famous. I always felt the Beatles were determined." Paul called Pat Moran 'our number one fan', accepting her as both their first and their keenest, but her enthusiasm led to some sorry consequences at home. Her father demanded to know what-the-devil a good Catholic girl was doing chasing boys who played filthy rock and roll. And when these same boys began to shape her vocabulary - she started to say 'fab' and 'gear' because they did - he almost hit the ceiling (but hit her instead). In the end, she drove him so mad with her non-stop chattering - Beatles for breakfast, dinner and tea - that he pronounced it a sin and ordered the first Beatles fan to seek almighty God's forgiveness at confession. 'I had to tell the priest, "I spend too much of my time worshipping the Beatles." He just ignored me and said, as he always did, "Remember your prayers. Say five Hail Marys and four Our Fathers and you'll be forgiven."'
Tune In, Mark Lewisohn (2013) pg. 342-344.
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Saddened as she was at no longer having the Beatles rock her every Saturday night, the main concern of Pat Moran, their first fan, was for the boys themselves. 'I knew they were hard up, that they weren't earning much or had jobs, and because I had a proper job I sent them money. I folded pound notes in such a way that they couldn't be seen through the envelope, and I also sent stamped addressed return envelopes so Paul would reply. He did, and he wrote Beatles in script on the back of them.' Pat had all sorts of plans: she offered to start a petition to get the Beatles more bookings; she offered to have a word with her uncle, Bill Gregson, who led the resident dance orchestra at the Tower Ballroom in New Brighton, to ask if he'd put the Beatles on; she even started to organise them a holiday at a little cottage in Rhyl, for which secrecy from her father was paramount ('He'd have most probably lynched me if he'd found out'). Two of Paul's letters back to Pat reveal pretty much what was going on for the Beatles at this moment. The first was written on Sunday 7 August and posted late on the 8th: "If it's OK; George (Carl) and I might be able to come - we fancy the idea of a holiday. Oh yes! I hope your uncle can fix us up - we fancy the idea with something, anyway if he can't it'll make us get around and look for some good bookings ourselves - it works both ways. I hope. Have you got your embroidered sweater yet, No. 1 fan?*" The second letter chased the first into the mailbox late on the Monday: "This note is to let you know that I think everything you're doing for us is great. I've seen John since I wrote the first letter and he says he can come too if you don't mind. This is very nearly definite. See - we were promised some tours of Scotland, road shows, trips to Hamburg & everything but we don't believe any of them, & a couple of promises have been broken already, so we'll probably be able to come; we can hitch-hike down there. It's not far - is it? I think it's a great idea about the petition. You ask me if I'm offended by your giving me all these gear things; well, I'm not - I'm flattered and I don't know what to say! I don't know how can do all this for us, you must think we're not bad, or else you're just a kind hearted type." *Pat liked embroidery and she and Paul joked that she might make a sweater with Beatles and No. 1 Fan sewn into the front. (It never happened.) Tune In, Mark Lewisohn (2013) pg. 349-350.