Chapter 1
May 23rd. I have officially been here for one month. I still find myself in shock that I actually took the plunge and moved to London, England. At 24 not many people completely pick up their lives, say goodbye to their comfort zone, and move to a completely different continent. But I, Caroline Johnson, am not 'many people.' I had always had dreams that superseded my life in New York.
After graduating with my masters in Writing from Columbia University and starting a new job at a publishing firm in New York, I thought I was happy. I had a stable job, a great group of friends, and the beginnings of a great novel. But I soon found myself stuck both in life and writing. I could feel myself losing my edge and my book was going no where. It all began to feel the same: working nine to five at my office job, write during the evenings, and then party throughout the weekend. I felt myself growing out of that lifestyle. When the incident occurred this past winter, it became the last straw. So before I knew it, I had booked my flight and packed up my little apartment to move to London.
Leaving behind my family and friends was the toughest part of leaving the United States and it almost prevented me from coming. I had a tight knit group of friends that I spoke to almost daily and I spent Sunday morning's with my mother every weekend. She told me that if I did not at least try and experience this new life, I would regret it for the rest of my life. I didn't know if I could make a life of my own without my people behind me. But with their help and persistence, I made the leap.
It wasn't easy at first. I had to get used to a completely different culture and society. The Underground, lack of peanut butter, and currency exchange was enough to make me want to return to my crumby apartment in New York. But luckily I was able to move into a cozy flat near Regent's Park. It was small and cramped but offered me an amazing view of the park and it's surrounding neighborhoods. With just enough room for a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and living area, it was just enough for myself and my cat, Fitzgerald. Together, we made this our new home.
I had given myself one month to decide if this was the best decision for me. And if after one month I still was not satisfied, I would move back and return to my old life. But waking up to the sun actually shining and not a cloud in the sky, I could not be happier with my life altering move. My creative ideas began flowing the day I moved into my new home.
Rolling over, I looked at the clock on my nightstand. It was only 8:00 am but I am a morning person so I sat up in bed and lazily scratched Fitzgerald's sleeping head. He liked his sleep and did not like to be woken up. We had an unspoken agreement to not bother one another.
Reaching for my phone I begin to respond to emails from family and friends. Truth be told, I did miss my the familiarity of my friends and family back home but I was beginning to thrive in my new environment.
After sending the appropriate messages, I got out of my bed, pulled on my robe, and walked into my tiny kitchen. Barely big enough for two people, I turned on my Keurig to brew a fresh batch of coffee. I also top off Fitz's cat dish and water bowl for the day while waiting for it to brew. I then gazed out the tiny window that housed a few wildflowers on the sill. It still amazes me of the history that surrounds me.
Hearing the tell-tale ding of the finished pot, it pulls me from my day dreams, and I poured myself a cup and return to my room. Setting the mug on my desk, I walked to my armoire and rifled through my drawers. Pulling out a pair of cropped running pants and a tank top, I quickly undressed to changed into my workout clothes. Successfully dressed, I tied up my long, red hair into a ponytail, moving all of the hair away from my face. Finishing my cup of coffee, I slide on my sneakers, put on my watch, and situated my headphones to listen to music.
Leaving my apartment, I jog towards Regent's Park. The sun shines above my head, warming the world around me. It is one of the first sunny, warm days of the season. It is rare when it does not rain so I planned to enjoy every moment of it.
Reaching the beginning of my route, I paused to stretch out my legs. Feeling warmed up, I commence my daily five mile run around the park. Running is the only part of my life that has remained constant. With all the irregularities of daily life, it was nice to have something that was apart of my routine that never changed.
Around 45 minutes later, I reach the end of my route and slow down to a walk. Fatigue but refreshed, I slowly make my way back. I stop in to visit Rose and Ned at their shop, Brewed Awakenings, and to buy my breakfast.
Pushing open the glass door, the bell jingles above my head, announcing my presence. Few people lounged in the chairs, reading the paper or drinking a coffee. I headed straight for the counter and stood behind the woman in front of me. Waiting my turn, I glance over the menu.
"Good morning, my dear," Rose greeted as I walked up to the counter. At 65 years old, she embodied the spirit of a 20 year old. Her mind as quick as a whip and mouth to match, she embraced me the day I moved in. She and Ned were unable to have children, so they took me in as one of their own, treating me with every hospitality and kindness.
Removing the headphones from my ears, I smile at the elderly woman, "Good morning, Rose. Can you have Ned mix me up one of his infamous green juices?"
Grinning, she calls over her shoulder, "Ned! Get out here! Caroline is brave enough to drink one your green drinks," winking, she rings out my order, as Ned slowly makes his way out of the back room.
Waving his cane at his wife, he yells back at her, "No need to yell! I may be old but I'm not deaf!" grumbling, he makes his way over to his station and begins throwing fruits and vegetables into his blender. Ned, a war veteran, lost his leg in the Vietnam war. He puts on a tough exterior but has a heart of gold.
Returning my attention to Rose, I ask her about business, "How is it going today, Rose? Need any help?" I sit in a seat at the window, closest to the register.
Rose wipes down the counter in front of her, "Not today, Caroline. I think the old man and I can handle this. How was your run this morning?" she looks up mischievously and continues, "Run into any handsome lads?"
Laughing at Rose's inability to be subtle, I shake my head, "Rose, you know I haven't met anyone yet. And if I do, you will be one of the first people to know."
"Leave the poor girl alone, Rose, not everyone is eager to settle down with the first man they see," Ned limps his wave over to me, handing me a green drink, that looks as appetizing as a handful of dirt, but tastes like heaven.
Sipping from my cup, I smile thankfully at Ned, "Thank you, Ned. This is why you're the only guy for me. No one will ever compare to you," I wink jokingly with the old man, who blushes slightly.
Rose points her wrinkled finger at her husband, "I'm not saying she needs to settle down, Ned! I'm just saying this girl needs to have fun."
"I understand what you're saying Rose, and someday, hopefully soon, I will find someone as great as Ned," Finishing my juice, I stand from my chair and wave goodbye to my neighbors and head towards my apartment.
Climbing the stairs, I open my door and immediately head to my bathroom. Stripping my sweaty clothes from my body, I jump into my shower. After cleaning off, I wrap myself in a towel and return to my bedroom. Pulling my underwear on, I look in the mirror. My eyes are immediately drawn to the angry red scar, running below my ribcage. Sighing I push the negative thoughts aside, I pull on a simple t-shirt and shorts. Pulling my thick hair up and away from my face, I tie it up into a bun on top of my head. Grabbing my laptop and glasses, I walk over to the tiny balcony adjacent to my bedroom. Sitting in the lounge chair, I slid my glasses over my eyes, and open my laptop to continue the story I had been working on.
I had the ability to focus on my writing without the distractions of working a regular day job. Due to my late grandparent's will that left me a small fortune, I had no need to do anything but write. Grateful for this unbridled opportunity to just work on my novel, I let the city of London inspire me everyday.
After a short while of pondering and brainstorming, I eventually landed on my next point of interest for my novel. I began typing away, keeping notes, and brainstorming for possible leads for this storyline. Whoever said writing was easy, was wrong; Because sooner rather than later, I hit my enemy known as writers block. Frustrated, I closed my laptop and looked around to my surroundings. I realize that the sun had dipped in the sky, revealing it was much later in the day that I thought. Gathering my belongings, I retreat to my bedroom. The moment I sit in my bed, my stomach begins to growl. Looking at the time, I notice that it is time for dinner. I grab my phone and call my closest friend in London, Maggie.
After a few rings, Maggie picks up the phone, "Let me guess, you were writing all day and did not look at your phone once. I am in the middle of a major life crisis!" her friend explains, exasperated.
"You know me too well, Mags. What has happened now?" Only imagining what she could say to me, I pull down my wavy hair from it's bun and try to side braid it.
"Oh, it's quite dreadful. But it is must too important to explain over the phone, meet me at the pub in 30 minutes," Maggie says and hangs up the phone without a goodbye.
Shaking my head, I am always in awe of my friend's ability to build a mountain out a mole hill. Grabbing my coat and slipping on a pair of flats, I rush out the door to meet Maggie. Grabbing the next cab I see, in no time I am walking into our local pub. I greet the bartender, Edward, and place an order for a sandwich and chips. Scanning the room, I spot the tall, blonde girl sitting at our usual table. I make a beeline for her, noticing that two empty glasses sit in front of her. I am not even sitting in my seat before she is rattling off about her latest problems.
"Caroline, you know I have been dating Jonathan for quite some time. And as far as I knew, we were moving along swimmingly, but I was so wrong. Well, that arrogant wanker, decides he can try and pull a fast one over on me! He tries to say that he was visiting his cousin in Liverpool this weekend when I know for a fact that he was actually here in London, shacking up with some bloody whore!" she explains her story quickly, ending it by downing the rest of her drink and motioning for a new one.
Edward, carries over my plate of food, and nods to Maggie who weakly smiles back. I hungrily take a bit of my sandwich, quieting my grumbling stomach.
Taking in my friend's appearance, I notice how distraught she actually is. Maggie, who is normally dressed to kill, is dressed in a jumper and leggings. Her blonde hair is in a ponytail and not a stitch of makeup in on her face. Yet in her disheveled shape, she is still the most beautiful girl in the pub. Men, of all ages, in the bar were sneaking looks at her. She never had the problem with getting men but it's the type of men she attracted. They usually only wanted her for a month at total before screwing her over. I think it had to do with the fact that Maggie is actually a model. I met her on the Underground one morning and we became fast friends. I was shocked when a beautiful model like Maggie wanted to be friends with an American writer, like me, but we truly were kindred spirits. Albeit, she can be a little over dramatic and overly confident, she is fiercely loyal and very kind.
Shifting in my seat, I prepare to respond to her story, but before I have the chance, she continues. Seeing that she isn't done, I quietly each the rest of my dinner.
"I mean he is completely bonkers for believing that I wouldn't find out. I am Margaret Danforth, I find out everything and anything. He is losing one of the best things he will ever have," she finishes her next drink and another is put in it's place, her eyes begin to tear up, "Why don't men ever stay with my Care? What is wrong with me?"
Grasping Maggie's hand, I look her in the eyes, "Maggie, there is nothing wrong with you except maybe your choice in men," I laugh slightly and relax when I see her smile through her tears, "As you said, you are Margaret Danforth, you can get any man in the world. You should never let a jerk like Jonathan get you down."
As she finishes her drink, she now become angered, "You're right! Who the hell needs him? I am a beautiful woman and I can get whom ever I want.. Starting tonight," Maggie begins scanning the little crowd that assembles at the pub each night. Old men with beer bellies and young students trying to sneak alcohol litter the stools. She stands from her chair and begins to teeter but as determined as she was Maggie locked her sights on a tall man who had not stopped staring at her the whole time. Her leered at her as if she were a piece of meat.
Realizing that she would pick this man from this bar to go home with I immediately grab her arm and pull her away from the man, "Oh no, Mags. I think it's time for me to get you home," bracing her stumbling body against mine, "Trust me you will thank me later," I leave behind money for Edward and lead her out of the pub. Motioning for a cab, we wait silently at the curb. One eventually rolls up and I coax Maggie into the seat and rattle off her address to the driver.
Less than five minutes later, I am struggling to get her up the stairs of her building but we finally reach her door. Searching through her bag, I find her keys and enter her flat. Flicking on the lights, I see clothes scattered everywhere along with papers and shoes. Maggie was never one for order. Carefully I practically drag her into her room and guide her to her bed which she falls onto. Pulling off her shoes, I get a cup of water and place it by her bed.
"Thank you so much, Caroline. You are the greatest," she mumbles in her sleep.
I smile tiredly down at my drunken friend and pull some blankets over her body, "You're welcome Mags, but you owe me big time," I respond and when she finally passes out. I jot down on a piece of paper on her nightstand to call me in the morning. Then I shut the lights out and make my way back down to the waiting cab.
When I finally reach my home, I am spent. I kick off my shoes and make my way into the kitchen where I brew myself a cup of tea. I pick up Fitzgerald and hold him close while waiting for the water to boil. When it was finished, I go to my balcony. I stand in the night air, drinking my tea, observing the sleeping world around me. I can feel the exhaustion seeping in when I finish my tea, so I move into my bathroom to brush my teeth. Then I climb into my own bed.
It is nights like these that I am grateful for my simple life, away from the crazy, non-stop life I had back in New York. Now, unburdened by drama and men, although boring, I find myself at ease. But it also makes me wish for someone to come home to. Besides Fitzgerald, of course.
Shutting my lights off, I nestle between my sheets. Fitzgerald jumps onto my bed and cuddles into his usual position at the foot of my bed. Gazing out my window, I begin thinking of my life and my novel and before long, I have fallen fast asleep.
AN: Just an introduction chapter, Tom will make his first appearance during the next chapter. I see this as taking place during Tom's run in Coriolanus. Leave me comments, suggestions, or critiques!