The bar was not like the pub at all. In fact, it was a nightclub. It was filled with loud music and a dance floor. Most everyone had to stand, because there weren't many seats. There were men, plenty of men… Some were very good looking, others not so much. The selection was amazingly similar to London. The American men seemed to be dressed less formal than Englishmen; lots of denim trousers and no neckties.
They were also very bold as many approached the three girls. Any time she spoke they would comment on her accent. She found herself performing… say process, say garage… it seemed as if James Bond was their sole exposure to anything British. She was asked more than once if she knew anyone from MI6. Thank goodness they forgot about Mary Poppins, because then they would have ask her about chimney sweeps and nannies.
Her answer was the same to all their advances… I have a boyfriend at home. Her new friends wanted to know about Thomas and so she told them a bit. She did miss him and had written to him, but he hadn't written back yet. He was probably punishing her for going away. At least Teddy wasn't punishing her; he sent her letters with little details about life at home. She heard about dad's disastrous cooking whilst mum was at work.
Mum had long ago stopped district nursing and home births. She worked as a midwife at The London. "A birth is a birth no matter the location," mum would say.
Angela didn't stay out late. She didn't like the noise and the crowd. She also had to be at hospital in the morning. The other two left with her. Lynn was studying to be a nurse and told her that her sister was already a nurse working at Beth Israel Hospital. Angela had learned that was another large hospital near The Brigham where she was training.
Angela met Lynn's sister Karen and they became friends. Occasionally they would meet up with some of Karen's friends. She was dating a boy named Jeff, who seemed nice enough. She heard about Jeff's friend Michael a bit before she ever met him. Someone would ask, "Is Michael coming?" and Jeff would answer, "You know him; he's happier home alone with his typewriter."
She wasn't sure exactly what to expect when she finally met Michael. Mostly she assumed he'd look scholarly. Instead he looked athletic, much like Teddy except more mature. His face was more than pleasing and other than glasses, he did not appear like he spent every waking moment in front of a typewriter. He looked a bit like Clark Kent.
She learned that he was a writer and had completed his first novel, but had yet to get it published. He paid his bills by teaching and coaching at a high school.
"What do you coach?" she asked.
"Soccer… That's football to you," he said.
"I knew that. My brother played. He could have played professionally."
"What's he doing instead?"
"Going to school to be a doctor like me?" she answered.
"If I ask too many questions tell me to shut up. As a writer, I like to learn about people and an English character might be fun to write," he said.
So they talked for quite a while. He was nice, but Angela made it clear that she had a boy waiting for her at home. Michael said, "I'm too busy and I'm not looking for a relationship so no need to worry."
One Sunday a group of them piled into a station wagon and drove to a place called Nantasket Beach. Angela didn't bring anything for swimming, but Heather lent her a bikini. She covered it with shorts and a shirt not entirely sure how comfortable she was showing so much of her pale, English skin that had spent too much time inside.
Still she enjoyed the seaside and nearby was a theme park with sounds of rumbling machinery, music and screams. She spent a good bit of the day talking to Michael. They always seemed to be paired off even though they weren't a pair.
She sensed that he may like her more than he was letting on. It was not that Angela didn't consider it, but she saw no point. In fact, she quite liked him. She had not heard from Thomas and began to accept that she wouldn't. She was tempted to ask Ted if he'd seen Thomas, but she was afraid of the answer.
So even if Thomas wasn't a factor, she was only here until December . Michael was a year older and American and she didn't need the pressure she had from Thomas with another man. In her mind Thomas still seemed more like a boy than a man, but Michael was no boy.
Instead they became friends and when their very limited free time allowed they enjoyed the companionship. Ironically they had things in common. Michael's oldest sister was eleven years older than him and was married with children much like Tim. He was the youngest, so perhaps he had more in common with Ted than her.
"I think I want to write about an Englishman coming to Boston what should his name be?" Michael ask as they sat in a restaurant one evening.
"Well, George is common. He's our patron saint and there's been many kings named George."
"Yes, one taxed the tea if my history lessons were accurate," he teased.
"Or Henry… or Edward. My brother is Edward, but we call him Ted or Teddy," she explained.
"We have an Edward, known as Ted in our own Massachusetts royalty," he explained, then he continued, "The Kennedys."
"I know who the Kennedys are. We do have newspapers and the BBC. We're not the USSR," Angela teased.
"Yes, but doesn't your government run the BBC?" he teased.
"We're not communists," she said passionately.
"I know I was teasing. So tell me again so I get it straight… pants mean underwear and so I'm wearing…"
"Trousers," she smiled, "Now you're giving me cheek!"
"Giving you cheek that's another expression you won't hear around here," he said.
"My mum says don't give me cheek to one of my brothers practically every day," she explained.
"I thought your older brother was married and a doctor."
"That doesn't stop Tim. Honestly I'm not sure how Julie puts up with him. She's a saint…"