Goodge Street was a bad idea. Had she gotten of a station before and changed over to the Victoria Line, all would've been fine. With that, she'd have had a much shorter walk.
She was already off Tottenham Court Road and Goodge Street renamed itself to Mortimer. Yet, there was a considerable walk.
The red, elliptical "Post Office" sign stuck out of a faraway building. That was the two-thirds mark.
The woman buried herself in a two-layer down jacket. It was one of the down jackets sold at John Lewis. The salesman who showed it to her promised a fine winter-proof item, and in its name was this. The jacket was useless against the wind. She could almost feel the spirit of Jack Frost thanking her for the bad decision. Had it rained, she would be dripping and shivering, maybe a little blue.
Musing over her jacket, the woman thought about where she bought it - Oxford Street. That was the bustling heart of London shopping. Two streets away and parallel, came Mortimer. This was another example of how, in a few yards, London could invert its personality. In the streets between her and Oxford, London went from cosy, intimate and quiet to noisy, busy and cosmopolitan.
In her thoughts, the walker reached Regent's Street. To her left, the road let into the giant - the tourist-filled, the popular, the crowded. To her right came the quaint - the local, the comfortable, the secluded. It was her belief that assigning personalities to each area helped her remember them.
She was so close! She walked past what she counted as her second last building. At the end, the horizon opened up a sliver as she walked into Cavendish Square. Crossing the street, she passed under an old arch. She looked around, not quite believing that she passed under a statue of the Virgin Mary holding a young Jesus. The road was cobbled and in the sudden lack of cars, she thought she was in the Victorian era. She fancied hearing the snort of horses and clatter of Hansom cabs. She could see Scrooge emerging from one of the doors.
A gust of wind blew her out of her reverie. The second door from the left was the 'address' she was given.
Unlike its neighbour's, the black wooden door had two pieces of paper on it. The first was the actual address: "4 Deans Mews, City of Westminster, London." Underneath, in a smaller font, was:
"Directions to the centre of hell:
Left Cavendish Square. Right Regent's Street. Right Regent's Street. Left Pall Mall. Right Cockspur Street. Around Charles I. Right The Strand. The big pillar on the right.
If you don't know what that is, don't bother knocking."
The woman knew that that was Eleanor's Cross, just outside Charing Cross station. That that was the chosen centre was no surprise – it was six miles around the cross that was marked for certain souls to be trapped within.
Thus, the woman bothered to knock.
"So what is it?" A tall blonde man, with eyebrows thicker than the woman's jacket, asked, peeking around the ajar door.
"Eleanor's Cross." The woman hardly expected the residents to stay true to their words.
"Good." The blonde let in the woman. "Name?"
"Petra Ral."
The blonde flipped through a file. He pulled out a picture and held it next to Petra's face. Both images showed the same ginger with medium hair, light, nearly yellow eyes, high cheekbones and thin lips. Amusingly, both lips were slightly parted in quiet surprise. Turning the picture to show Petra, the blonde asked: "Got you by surprise, huh?"
Petra smirked and nodded as she was ushered in.
In what would have been the living room, Petra found four figures. There were two couples and a man and a woman, both of whom showed no interest in the other.
"Oh my God! A new one!" A brunette yelled. The brunette babbled. The man gave her a look of disgust.
"So, guys, now that there's an even number of us, we can do the pair thing."
"Shut it, Erwin."
"And, Levi, since you're not in a pair, you can work with Petra."
The brunette rushed to Erwin's side. The other couple stayed quiet. Petra found a seat near Levi's. The room seemed designed to accommodate the three duos.
"Hi."
"Tch. You pass the blue book test?"
"Yeah."
"Let's see if you're stupid. If I don't like you, I'll stop working with you."
"But Erwin…"
"Erwin's not the leader. We're just a few guys he rounded up."
"Alright."
"What's your name?" Levi finally looked up. Judging by the entrance and voice, he expected a timid, bookish or mousy Asian. The broader-than-expected eyes and ginger hair reminded Levi that prejudice was often incorrect.
"Petra." She offered a hand. Levi shook it robotically. "You're Levi… right?"
"Yeah." Levi unfolded a massive map of London and laid it out on the coffee table placed for that purpose. "Close your eyes."
"What?"
"Prove that you're not retarded." Petra shut her eyes.
Levi called out a starting point and a destination. Petra recited a route. Levi called another, more anxious to prove his partner to be a failure. He then found himself calling out a third. Then a fourth. At the end of this one, Petra said: "Am I worthy?"
"Tch. Fine."
"What about yourself?"
"What?"
"Are you worthy?" The brunette, who had begun to eavesdrop at the third recital, gasped.
"Shut up, Hange." Levi stared at Petra, glaring, hoping to prove his worthiness.
"Close your eyes and get me from Waterloo East to Holborn."
Surprised at the ineffectiveness of his glare, Levi resorted to wits: "Take the tube."
"Don't feel like it."
"It's cheaper."
"Do you not know the way?"
"Assuming I picked you up at Cornwall Road: left Stamford Street, right Waterloo Street, across Waterloo Bridge, straight to Aldwych, up Kingsway and you're there." Levi glared as if some idiotic oaf asked him what 18 + 22 was.
Petra laughed as if Levi said 41. "What?!" Levi found himself hurriedly asking.
"You forgot the tunnel." Petra spluttered. Levi gave her a quizzical look. "You scammed me 50p."
Levi would have glared. He would have made Petra run. He would have made her tremble in her sleep. Yet, she was so innocent and cute in her carefree laughter. He stuck to glaring, although he had begun to question its capability.
"Sorry. I messed that up as well." Petra straightened up. "So, we equals now?"
"Fine." Levi would have said something along the lines of 'don't mess with me like that again,' but was both unwilling to concede that he had been successfully messed with and willing to take some of the blame for that interaction – he came on too strong.
Levi got up to talk to Erwin about the newbie, leaving Petra with Hange.
"How did you not wet yourself?" Hange asked.
"What?"
"Levi. Wasn't he scary?"
Petra smirked. "He'd love it if I were scared."
Hange was about to agree and pass off the entire conversation she overheard. Then she remembered that this was the newbie's first time dealing with Levi. "How did you read him so well?"
"I don't know." Petra paused. "Hange, right?"
"Yeah. You?"
"Petra."
"I must say, you've probably got an amazing way with people."
"Thank you."
"Reading Levi that quickly… I mean, wow!"
"Thanks." Petra wondered what the big deal was with the reticent man. Did people fall for his façade?
Levi returned and Hange walked away wondering if Petra's skill was a hidden talent or genuine super-power.
"So, we quiz each other?"
"Sure." Levi sat down.
As the day passed, Levi learned that Petra was not as confrontational as she seemed. She also did not know it all.
Levi began not to mind the partnership. Somehow, Petra was quite agreeable when he decided to be.
At the end of the day, Petra faced the walk to Goodge Street. She complained, earning a look from Levi she read as pretend annoyance but true worry with a hint of curiosity.
"You live off the Northern Line?" Levi asked.
"Barnet. You?"
"Totteridge and Whetstone." They lived a train station away from each other.
"So you got the same walk, then."
"I was going to go to Oxford Circus, then change over."
"I'll come with."
Levi shrugged as they set off. They walked around the square, Petra letting Levi lead. They took Margret Street to Regent's Street. There they could see the distinct red circle with the blue banner. They took the Victoria line up to Warren Street. There they switched to the Northern line for their longer haul.
Fortunately, they picked a time immediately after the peak: 7:30. Thus, both found seats – conveniently next to each other. They discussed their 'extracurricular' lives and lack thereof. Both had to work to pay their costs and they did over the weekends. Petra worked cash registers on many late nights at the Sainsbury directly under her apartment. Levi did a similar thing at the boots a few stores away from his loft. Neither could made a grand living and both were relying on past funds. Thus, both had a few hours of work ahead of them.
"If that's what both of us do, then why don't we start studying earlier so that we get more hours in." Levi suggested.
"Sure."
"So what if we take the 4 o'clock train and leave right after lunch?"
"Ok." Petra was not really sure about waking up at three, but if the manager could let her work for three more hours each day, she would be so much better off.
Totteridge arrived sooner than Levi expected. For some reason, he could see himself and Petra being friends. He actually felt bad about having to leave Petra. It was stupidity. It was attachment. It was unreasonable. Most fearsome, it was new. He did not know what to do. Did he even have to do anything for such a natural friendship?
Petra alighted a few minutes later, a few miles away. Her walk to the Sainsbury was cold and lonely. She knew that Levi and she would be good friends. It was nice to have somebody to work with on the rigorous test she was studying for.
At her apartment, after a mundane time at Sainsbury's, Petra got a call from her father. "So you found the 'Scouts'?" Mr Ral began.
"Yeah. They're cool." Petra found the odd group online, on a cabbie forum, where somebody asked about group learning.
"So, how long do you plan on being there?"
"Until I finish."
"Which is?"
"At least a year."
"Remind me how it works."
Petra sighed. The old man never remembered. "So I took my first test last week and have one in 49 days. After that I have a test in 28 days. 21 days later, I have another test. If I get enough total points, I'd be done. Otherwise, based on my score I may get pushed back to a 28 day or 56 day gap."
"I can't believe you want to be a cabbie."
"I can't believe I have to know every road within six miles of Charing Cross."
"And then some."
"True." The first test was a reminder that the cabbie test – The Knowledge – was not merely memorizing a map, it was remembering the entire city – every restaurant, pub, cinema, attraction and hotel.
"Well, I'm happy you found them. Best of luck."
"Thanks. Bye." Petra fell asleep soon after, counting on only 5 hours of sleep. Yet, if the plan worked out, it would be a huge help.