"Ladies and Gentlemen! Your attention please!"

We all turned expectantly and the female lecturer smiled. She was a large, matronly lady with a strong, heavily accented voice. I still wasn't any good at discerning which accent came from where, but the one accent I did recognise, other than Willow's Yorkshire tones was that of east London – mainly because it was so strong. Mrs Woodhouse hailed from the eastern side of London and was probably a "Cockney". (Although, as I came to realise in the course of my time in London, the exact term meant she had to have been born within the sound of the bells of Bow church.) While her accent was strong, however, she was being very careful with her words. The forced "correct speech" sat uneasily on her and gave her the appearance of a sort of reverse Dick van Dyke. She was a little rotund to be Eliza Doolittle.

"Welcome to England and welcome to London. I hope your accommodation is okay and that you are gradually finding your way around the university and the city. If you have any logistical problems or queries, someone from the admin team will be here at the end of this session. My role today is to outline what we expect of you and to hand out some assignments which we would like you to complete over the summer. There are also a number of summer schools running which I would urge you to look at. I've placed details at the back of the room.

Try to make the most of everything this year. I know you think that university is here for your entertainment, but I hate to tell you this…it's not all about sex drugs and rock 'n' roll! The academic opportunities are great too. By all means, enjoy the city and have fun, but don't lose sight of the fact that your whole future may be determined by what use you make of the academic resources available to you."

As she spoke, I smiled to myself. I couldn't believe my luck; to have the opportunity to study in England! The sun was shining outside I had a decent roof over my head and the beginnings of a new friendship. Life couldn't get much better!

Before I left Canada, I had begun to regret my decision to leave, because I knew I would miss the closeness of my family and existing support system. The one thing I clung to was that the academic opportunities were so good. I wasn't sure what exactly I wanted to do in the future, but nearly all of my courses centred on Literature and writing; I had even picked a journalism module. I thought I would probably end up doing some form of writing, though I wasn't certain if I would write books or journalistic articles or edit other people's work. I liked books, and I liked the written word. Where better to learn about English Literature than in England? It was after all the birthplace of Shakespeare, Chaucer, and so on. I couldn't wait for the lectures to begin.

(I'm sure Derek would have muttered "keener!" at that.)

I had made the decision to leave because my father's death had opened my eyes to the world around me. I realised I was stuck in a rut. Moving away from my comfort zone would be good for me. It had also meant moving away from Derek.

I hadn't worked out yet if that was a good thing.

Mrs Woodhouse rambled on and I took notes. But, part of me was still thinking over the change in me. I had become my confident self again. Not only was the heavy grief over my father's death easing to a manageable level, but for the first time in a very long time, I wasn't look for romance or a relationship.

My "romantic" life at Queens had followed a similar path to that of school. I met guys, dated them for a while and then at some point they wanted to move to the next step.

Don't get me wrong…sometimes so did I. Despite what Derek might say, and my vocal expression of my morals, I wasn't actually a prude. But, though I wasn't averse to the occasional sexual "experience", and a couple of times had got to the point of actually trying to have full sex, I was still a virgin.

Somehow my sub-conscious always knew whether sex with the current guy was a good idea. Unfortunately, it sometimes left it to the moment we were naked before it kicked in. Changing your mind at the last minute is not good for a relationship. On both the occasions where that had happened, it had been terminal.

So I was happy to be single; young, single, carefree (in a Casey McDonald manner) and in a vibrant, interesting city. I wasn't looking to change things.


"Come on. Up and at 'em, Case!" Willow said looming over me. She had picked the lock on my room as usual so that she could come and drag me from my enjoyment of Chaucer's 'The Wife of Bath.' I once asked her where she learnt to pick locks, and she had laughed and tapped her nose. When I frowned at her she admitted she had "friends in Gipton." That of course made me frown even more till she explained that 'Gipton' was a less than salubrious suburb of Leeds.

"I'm reading, Wils." I answered, yawning slightly, because I had actually dozed off and she had woken me up.

She picked up the book, glanced at what I was reading and snorted.

"Ha! Bloody men! Have you read this?"

I shook my head and sat up. "I was trying to…" I said pointedly.

She snorted. "Geoffrey Chaucer was an arrogant fool. He had the knight go on a quest to find out what women really want and what does he discover? That they want mastery over their husbands! Yeah right! We all know what women want: money, looks and a guy with a straight penis."

I rolled my eyes. I had known Willow for six weeks now. I was past the point of shocking. Besides, Willow was too much like Rosie.

Willow grinned.

"Come on. Let's go out and find one."

"Go out and find what?" I asked innocently, though I knew damn well.

"A straight p…"

"I get the message!" I interrupted. "I'm not interested. I am not going to ruin this year by falling in love or worse."

She laughed. "Okay. But you can come and keep me company while I do. There's a new club opened up I want to check out. That cute guy from the admin office said he might go tonight. Come with."

I sighed. "Why don't you go without me? I'll just be in your way."

Willow flopped onto my bed. "I'll not have you sit here and mope, pet." I smiled at her term of affection. After the first time where I wondered if she was going to pat me on the head, I realised she used the term "pet" as others might the word "love".

"Who's moping? I'm just trying to get a head start on Chaucer. It's a different language, Wils."

"It's English!"

"No. It's Middle English. 'Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote' and all that. It takes a lot of getting used to."

"Well I still say you're moping. I thought you were happy over here. It doesn't do to fret about missing your family."

"I don't miss my family."

She gave me a pointed look.

"Not much." I amended.

"You spend hours emailing them."

I stood up, wanting to distract her. She was a good friend but she was also a little devil and she loved to dig into everyone else's business. I moved to the closet to look for something to wear. I knew I had lost the battle.

"I don't. Just the other day, mom was complaining that she hadn't heard from me in two days."
"Two days? Positively a lifetime! I haven't spoken to my ma in over a fortnight – and she's one of my best friends! And you email someone every day." Willow said. Her eyes narrowed. "If it isn't your mother, I bet it's that brother of yours." She made a point of saying 'brother'; rather than 'step-brother'. She knew it would get a reaction out of me.

I answered her quietly and without drama.

"Step-brother." I whispered, but I didn't deny the allegation.

"I knew it!" She said delightedly.

Deciding on red jersey dress, I started to change.

"Hardly a triumph." I complained. "I told you how it was the day I met you."

"You do realise most people would have moved on by now don't you? I mean teenage crushes tend to end when you aren't a teenager anymore."

"It's not a crush! God! This is Derek we're talking about; the most irritating man on the planet. And believe me when I say I'm flattering him by using the 'm' word. The guy is so...immature."

Willow raised an eyebrow. "I've seen the photo, pet. He is not immature."

I sighed. "Okay. Puerile." I stated, sitting down at my desk to add some make-up.

"Puerile, huh? So how come you two email each other so much? It seems to me you two have something going on."

"Um…yeah…open warfare."

She sat up from where she had started to recline on my bed. "Warfare?"

"Yeah. You know like shots fired over the bow. You saw his latest prank."

"The subscription to Crochet Weekly?" She giggled. "I still think you should have crocheted him a willy warmer and sent it to him."

"A what?"

"A jock strap! Get out more!"

I was quiet for a moment and then the giggles hit me.

With avengence.

"What?" Willow asked, confused.

"N-Nothing!" I coughed.

"No come on. What tickled your fancy?"

I choked. Her expressions sometimes really didn't help.

"I just had a mental image of Derek…" I gasped a breath. "…in the hockey team's locker room with a crocheted jock strap!" I managed to splutter out.

Willow caught my mood and the joke. She started to giggle and then it all plunged down hill from there.

We rocked with laughter.

"Jesus wept Case! Just when I think you're a tight arse…you really know how to surprise me." She said, wiping tears from her cheeks.


Willow decided she needed to visit the bathroom and touch up her make-up after our little giggle-fest so she left me, promising to knock on my door in ten minutes. I reached for my laptop and checked my email.

"Hey Lame-brain! Staying in tonight, crocheting or are you going to alphabetise your course texts?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Actually, moron, I'm off clubbing."

I hadn't realised he was actually logged on, but the reply came almost immediately.

"Great! See you back on here in an hour."

So he thought I wouldn't last the distance.

"It'll take more than an hour. Don't wait up, Babe!" I emailed back.

"We'll see." Was all he wrote.


The club was heaving and so were a lot of the clientele. Evidently, alcohol was quite cheap and most of the patrons were drinking…a lot.

I stuck to my staple of rum and coke; one, because I could actually stomach the taste and two because I knew how many I could handle. Normally, I would stay with Willow until about eleven and then head off home. Tonight, however, I was responding to Derek's challenge.

I wouldn't be going home until the early hours.

I sighed. Now I would be ridiculously tired for tomorrow which I had planned out as a "nail Chaucer" day. Not literally, obviously since the guy had been dead for something like six hundred and nine years! But, I was determined to complete my read through of the Canterbury Tales. I was also going to look into the possibility later in the summer of catching a train into Kent and visiting the place where the pilgrims were making for. (Willow thought I was crazy. She said I should just visit York which was much the same only nicer. I pointed out that as a "Yorkshire lass" she was just biased and she grinned.)

So two hours into my visit to the nightclub, I was leaning against a pillar, sipping my first "Bacardi and coke" and wondering how long I could leave it before I could return home.

Oh, I knew that I could go home now and so long as I didn't log on, Derek would never know the difference. But, I also knew Derek and I knew he would call me out on it. So I stayed.

And the whole time I thought about how it would be so much more of a victory if he was standing beside me, watching me.