A/N – This chapter is longer than originally intended, but it's shorter than it was… Sorry if it spoils the flow for you dear reader.

Disclaimer – These are Charlaine Harris's sheep, I'm just herding them down the lane…


Chapter 4

I dreamed I was in a strange bar surrounded by strange people in plastic kimonos, I have such an odd imagination... I thought as sleep slowly escaped me and I became hazily aware of the world. I didn't notice that my pillow felt different, or that my feet didn't find my slippers, or that the door was too close to the bed, or even on the wrong wall... I did notice though that when I opened the bedroom door I was greeted by a green faced monster, shaped like a woman with a hideously white lumpy head, in pastel pink silky pajamas.

I screamed.

"No, no, she's awake, if you couldn't tell from that noise, stay with Mr Latino for the morning if you like, I'll take her shopping"

Reality gradually pieced itself together and her name floated back into view from the hazy depths of my memory. I mouthed 'bathroom?' at Pam and she pointed me to the door across the lounge.

When I re-emerged Pam handed me a coffee saying "Milk and one sugar."

"How did you know?"

"It's my job to know these sorts of things about people." She replied to my amazed self. "That, and Lafayette remembered from your trip, that was him on the phone, he'll be back this afternoon and wonders if you want to join him on his trip to Wales round about that time... He mentioned a farm or something to you, he said."

I nodded while sipping my coffee. As the caffeine hit my brain, the building blocks of the world magically rebuilt themselves and the events of last night popped back into my memory.

"Thank you for getting me home last night." Southern girl, southern manners! Gran needed a granddaughter to be proud of. "We didn't... err..."

Pam smirked at first, then burst into a howling laugh. When she calmed down a little she replied, "No Sookie, no we didn't. I did get you ready for bed, but we didn't share it.

"So, finish that coffee, I'll go and get myself looking a little more human" she pulled the white towel off her head and her damp blonde locks fell about her shoulders in rat-tail-like strands. "Then we'll go and get some breakfast at the cafe down the road, followed by a little light retail therapy."

I had this strange feeling that Pam rarely asked anything, it was always a demand or command, and 'No' was not a response she tolerated. A small part of me was crying out that this was my holiday and I should be doing the things I wanted to do, but the rest of me was sensibly pointing out that this was only day one, and I had another twenty days to enjoy as my own. Plus, breakfast sounded like a great idea.

I disappeared back into the bedroom I'd been using, stripped off the cami and the dog-print lounge pants that made up my pajamas and stood there, naked and blushing. Pam had seen me like this? How embarrassing! Oh, never mind that now, I needed food, which meant I needed clothes. I fished around in my bags for some underwear, a pair of tights, a pretty blue and green cotton sundress and a short blue cardigan that complemented the dress nicely. Once fully dressed I slipped on a pair of black ballet pumps, brushed my hair, re-packed my bag and put on my best Sookie-smile.

The cafe was more of an up-market bistro than a cafe, with crisp white cotton table cloths and bent-wood chairs. Pam marched in confidently and made it known to the staff that she was claiming a particular table by snapping her fingers and pointing to where we were to sit, without waiting to be seated. She handed me the menu that was sat on the table, then proceeded to take out her cell phone and started to text.

"Just letting Lafayette know you're going to Wales" she informed me.

"But I..." I started, trying to point out that I'd not confirmed either way yet, and that I was rather hoping to do some sightseeing in London before moving on. I mean wouldn't you? I'd heard so much about the place, and being a small town girl I'd not had much chance to travel and see big cities, let alone somewhere as renowned as London.

Pam leant forward and stared me straight in the eyes, almost boring into my soul. "Sookie my dear, take some advice from me. London is a big and expensive place, you stay here now you probably won't leave for a week or so, and by then you'll have run out of money. Go with Lafayette, see parts of Wales and East England, move on and see parts of the rest of the country then come back here a few days before you leave to go home. That way you'll know how much money you have left, what you can afford to do, and you won't have missed out on an amazing opportunity. Trust me. Go with him... Just don't let him choose the music for the car." She grinned and winked at me.

She had a good point. My money would only stretch so far, and if I got too excited in London, seeing the rest of the country might be impossible. Lafayette had mentioned that this farm he was heading to was cheap and a good place to stay if you wanted to visit other places as it was quite central and not far from the main roads. Go with the flow Sookie, have an adventure! I heard my head whisper. "Oh, sure, great, I'll go to Wales, that'll be just great." I tried to convince myself.

I looked down at the menu and suddenly realized how right Pam was. A small coffee worked out at nearly $4, and anything bigger than a croissant was going to set me back at least $12. Almost as though she could read my mind Pam assured me that this was going on her work expense account and I didn't have to worry about the cost. I didn't want to let her pay for me, I could afford this, if I ate jelly sandwiches for the rest of my trip that is, but she did rightly point out that she had chosen to eat here, not me, and it wasn't as though she was paying either. I swallowed my pride and decided on the scrambled eggs and smoked salmon on bagel. It did sound good.

When she noticed I was ready, Pam snapped her fingers again and called out "Okay Darren, we're good to go."

An attractive waiter made his way over to our table and fished his note pad from his apron pocket. He looked as though he was in his late 30's or early 40's with very dark receding hair. He was unshaven and looked somewhat sleepy, but he smiled genuinely at us, despite Pam's manners, and greeted us warmly.

"Pam! Great to see ya. How've ya been? Not seen the man for a while, he alright? What can I getcha?"

"I'm well, he's fine, away for a while, you won't see him until next year at the earliest I would guess. My usual please and Sookie here will have..."

"Scrambled eggs with smoked salmon, please. Thank you."

"Nice, nice, I'll get that for ya. Coffee? Tea? Juice?" We both ordered a coffee and he scuttled off.

We were mostly silent over breakfast while Pam read a newspaper, chuckling and occasionally nodding sagely. When I asked if the paper was a good one to check out while I was here to keep up to date with what was going on in the world she smirked and replied "The Sun? Jesus, no! It's utter drivel. I only get it for Dear Deidre, wonderfully insightful woman. I try to live my life by her advice. I've even had a letter or two answered." She seemed very proud about that.

I stifled my laugh. Here was Pam, dressed as though she was about to drive to the local country club in beige slacks, a cream roll-neck sweater and a tweed jacket, all perfectly contoured to her body as though no price had been too high to pay a tailor for her appearance, an apartment that Lafayette said cost heaven and earth to buy, and a command over other people that was dauntingly impressive, and she looked to an agony aunt for life advice? My day had just been made.

After we'd eaten, Pam settled up and asked for a cab to be ordered for us, explaining that she would take me into the centre on the tube again, but it would take too long. Again she insisted on paying, and I was about ready to stamp my feet and howl about how I was independent and more than capable of paying my own way, and then the taxi driver stated the fare. I let her pay.

It was a gloriously golden day. This little section of London had a few trees lining the streets, and the leaves were starting to change color. The buildings themselves were a silver grey and although not overly tall were very imposing. Pam kindly informed me that most of them were from the 'Georgian' period of history, which I was told you could tell from the size of windows. I just nodded and smiled.

Pam took me to a variety of amazing little boutiques and quirky shops that sold all manner of things. Noting that half the shops had no prices on display I recalled the little mantra Gran had drilled into me years ago: "If you have to ask, you can't afford it." So whenever a shop assistant offered help I smiled, thanked them and continued to browse. In about the third or fourth dress shop, Pam beckoned me over to the sales rail, pointing out that the prices were actually quite reasonable here. She whipped out a black knitted sweater dress and held it up against me. Black isn't normally my color, I prefer to be bright and gay and summery, but just touching this dress made me melt. The texture suggested it was made of cashmere and it had a soft, falling cowl neck and a matching knitted belt.

"The question you should be asking yourself is not 'Can I afford to buy this dress' but 'can I afford NOT to!'" Pam said teasingly, waving the price tag in front of my nose. Doing a quick conversion I figured that this would work out to about $35 dollars... The moment I slipped it on over my head and felt it gently hug my curves I knew that dress was mine, along with a pair of thick black tights that the shop assistant quietly reduced in price for me with a quick wink and smile. I had a feeling from the way she and Pam acted that Pam might well be a frequent customer here.

After my purchase we went for a little walk, as Pam seemed to appreciate that one dress was about all my budget was going to stretch to, at least this early in the holiday. She seemed quietly eager to show me different parts of this area of her city and I found myself wondering if she grew up here. We ended our little visit in a beautiful brasserie called Browns on Islington Green. The décor reminded me of those 1920's cocktail lounges you see in films; warm wooden furniture, with cream and deep red fabrics and brass fittings. The serving staff were all smartly dressed in white shirts, black trousers and ties, with perfectly starched aprons. I couldn't stop myself before I found my mouth open and the words had already come out: "If we're just having coffee here I'll pay, I think it's my turn. But not lunch!" I quickly added.

By the time we got back to Pam's flat, Lafayette had lunch served. He apologized for not using local ingredients and moaned about how hard it was to get hold of here in West London, then regaled us with details of Mr Latino (but thankfully not too many... )

Before I knew it my bags were packed and Lafayette and I were saying our fond farewells to Pam. I hardly had time to think before we were in the car and heading down the road. I didn't even have time to get my iPod out so that we could listen to my music choice and not Lafayette's, but it turned out that his taste in music was just fine. Just as we pulled away, Pam threw a padded envelope into the car with the parting words "Make sure she picks up a sim."

Lafayette dug into Pam's parting gift and took out a cell and a charger. "She's expecting it back – envelope's got her address on it, and probably enough postage to cover the cost. What choo do to make her love yo' ass, sugar?" he asked, raising a solitary eyebrow at me.

I laughed, "I woke up alone if that's what you're asking."

With the sun streaming down onto the road ahead of us, we pulled onto the M25 just as the perfect road trip song came across the speakers; Mr E's Beautiful Blues. We must have looked real funny to other drivers as we sang along: God Damn right it's a beautiful day!

.-oOSOo-.

Five hours later (it should have been closer to three, but we hit rush hour traffic just by Birmingham) and we were finally on tiny country lanes that would lead us to our destination. The narrow roads seemed to sink between three foot tall banks either side, made even taller by five foot high hedges, which did helped shield my eyes from the blindingly low sun, but gave me limited views of the road ahead. I slowly edged my little rental car along the daunting little roads at about fifteen to twenty miles an hour, making Lafayette push his foot to the floor hoping that a phantom pedal would speed the car up a bit. I was anxious that a car would come hurtling round the corner any second, so slow and steady seemed sensible. But it wasn't a car I needed to worry about. As we rounded the next corner we came t a grinding halt; towards us rolled a river of creamy wool.

I was mesmerized. I grew up in the country, sure, but it was cattle they farmed around an about Bon Temps not sheep, and I'd always loved them since watching the Wallace and Gromit film, 'A close shave'. It isn't every day I get to be a small island in a river of sheep as the flock split around us and merged behind. Sheep after sheep they kept coming, lazily meandering by as though they had all the time in the world, which I guess they did, since they were only on their way to the next field I guessed, or maybe a barn for the night, I wasn't sure.

"So is this rush hour in the country?" I jokingly asked Lafayette as I turned my attention away from the sheep for five seconds and watched him watching the woolly river.

"Mmm hmm, looks like. Check out that walking potential of a feast! Don't they make chou wanna wrap yo' lips around a rare lamb shank? Mmm!"

I was tired and hungry, and counting sheep was not helping me; I couldn't help but laugh.

Placing both hands on the top of the wheel and resting my chin between them, I was relieved to see the end of the stream of sheep was signaled by a collie casually trotting round the corner. He stopped and stared at us, turned his head back to see round the corner that was blind to us, I assumed to look for his master, then carried on following the sheep. I watched him as he checked both sides of the car for stragglers, and then padded passed my door. Making sure the road was clear I put the car in gear and slowly moved on.

As we edged our way around the bend there he stood; a giant of a man. He must have been 6ft 4" at the very least, so tall that the sunlight was skimming the tops of the bushes and setting his shoulder length white-blonde hair a-glow. His broad and beautifully muscular chest was smothered with a tight navy vest, his jeans followed curves which suggested his ass had real potential (I do love a firm, tight ass) and a hunter green sweater tied round his neck meant that his stunning arms were on show to the world. His boots were so caked in mud that brown was the only color I could see. Black shades hid his eyes from the world, his lack of smile making his chiseled face expressionless. I fought the temptation to check the sides of my mouth for drool.

He nodded to us slowly and deeply, almost like a bow, and then he moved to the side to let us pass.

"From one tasty feast to another! Mmn-nmn! Were yo' eyeing up that hunk o' goodness girl?" Lafayette teased, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

My lips twitched at the corner and I could feel my cheeks burning as I gave in to a full-on blush. Eyeing? Possibly. Ogling? Most definitely! It'd been many months since I slept with my ex, I'm a warm-blooded woman, I have needs... and eye candy is always welcome.

"If they make them like that around here, I think I might stay more than just one night," I smirked, and then promptly blushed again.


A/N – See! There he is! Just made it! Whew!

The Sun & Dear Deidre – it's real and an institution, 'nuff said!

London – I spent 4 years living in London, and Islington (the area of London Pam took Sookie) is somewhere I know reasonably well. The shops I mentioned are based on real shops I've been into there, but the dress (which is one I own) was an unbelievable bargain from a high-street chain, not a boutique; if I can find a picture on the web I'll post it in my profile. The café Sookie and Pam have breakfast in was modelled on a bistro I used to go to quite regularly in Chingford (the area of London I lived in) and Browns on Islington Green does really exist; I went there earlier this year and the cocktails are divine! (the coffee's okay too)