A Return to London
After their sojourn in Paris, it was time for the Sterling-Duvals to head to London; Nick could not fail to notice the excitement in the eyes of both his husband and son as the train headed across the French countryside in the direction of the Channel Tunnel. They had arranged to meet Miss Frobisher for that afternoon and would take a traditional tea together. They would not be taking it in the glamour of the Ritz, but on the advice of their guest, at Fortnum and Mason across the street.
"Afternoon Tea at the Ritz is directed entirely at the tourist market. It is thus expensive, parsimonious in the portion size and on top of that, they would probably glare at Wes being with us, even though he would probably show more maturity than some of the other patrons. Of course, I'm not saying that Fortnum's isn't entirely non tourist, far from it, but they are more generous food wise, have a far superior choice of teas, and they do provide a children's version which is remarkably similar to the adult one," the kindergarten head had stated, and they had bowed to her superior local knowledge.
Their train arrived on schedule, and the subsequent journey two stops on the tube to Great Portland Street was effortless. They checked into the hotel, Nick happily showing his UN credentials when they booked in, justifying the special rate they had before he was asked. They discovered that they had been upgraded to one of the small apartments within the hotel, complete with a kitchen, although they would still be able to take breakfast in the hotel restaurant. They were pleased with that, as it gave them the chance to cook one evening, even if that was only to reheat something that had been prepared by the tender hands of messers Marks and Spencer…
They took the chance to quickly freshen up, then headed back out through the lobby, and a little way down the street to pick up the bus that would convey them to Piccadilly Circus, which was a short stroll from their destination…. They found Miss Frobisher waiting at the main door to the store, the lady in question having arrived a little early. She was happy to hear her name called by a young voice, and knelt down a little so that he could hug her, something that she only allowed her favourite pupils to do - and Wes was one of those. She then greeted his fathers, her keen eyes noting the few grey hairs that now found a place in Nick's locks, noting that she too now had many more of them. As for Jeff, he did not seem to have changed at all, and had his son not mentioned that he now needed glasses for driving, she might have thought that he was one of the lucky few that never seem to age at all…
They headed up to the restaurant, and were shown a table in the Diamond Jubilee Tea Salon that was away from the windows that looked out over the street. Jeff grumbled at first, until Miss Frobisher whispered, "They keep those for the obvious tourists; to them, the tea is secondary to window gazing, and of course, being seen to be here by the passers by. We are here to eat, and to catch up on each other's news; we do not need to see who is walking past, nor do we need to be obnoxiously loud as we do so."
At that moment, as if to prove her point, one of the group of young ladies at one of the window tables stood up and yelled out of the slightly opened window, her friends taking photos as she did so. Nick shook his head sadly, but then was immediately forced to suppress a laugh as he saw his son roll his eyes in disdain…
As they ate the delicious and traditional spread they received, they indeed swapped news, Miss Frobisher eager to hear news of Drew and Evie, and then she shared news with them about their friend's ex-wife. It transpired that she had left Great Ormond Street to take up a post at a hospital in the Middle East at very short notice. It was, of course, much better paid, but what was telling was that the man that she lived with, a fellow doctor, had also quit his job and gone with her, without telling anyone in advance…"
"That sounds a lot like what happened with Drew," said Nick, shaking his head.
"Indeed, I fear it is exactly the same," replied Miss Frobisher. "There is nothing that can be done, however, and in any case, from what I have been told, he wasn't exactly the kindest of men with his previous partner."
Nick then found himself telling Miss Frobisher all about the new family that he had just discovered, and she listened intently, her eyes lighting up when he told her all about the beautiful shop that he had played a part in saving. "I actually had a great-aunt who spent her summers in Baden Baden as a young woman in the late 1920s and early 1930s, and she talked so fondly of the place. Thus, when she turned 90, I arranged a trip for her back to the city. We actually stayed in the same hotel as yourselves, which she remembered perfectly; she had stayed there at those times too. She was able to tell me exactly what was round every corner in the place before we got there, and exactly how it had been decorated at that time too. What she loved the most was how little the town itself had changed, and well, I think we may have been inside that bakery of yours. If it was, then she declared that the recipes had not changed, and that the cakes were as delicious as she recalled…"
As she had talked, Jeff had been searching on his phone, and soon found the picture that he had taken of the outside of the bakery on the day of their visit. He opened it up, and showed it to Miss Frobisher. "Yes, that is it! I remember thinking then, nearly 30 years ago, that it needed to be preserved as a monument to the past. I am so glad that it now has been."
They parted after their tea, but Jeff invited her to join them for lunch the day after tomorrow at a restaurant in Kensington, after which they would spend an afternoon in one of the museums. She accepted happily, failing to notice the look that Nick was now giving his husband…
They would spend the next day in the heart of the city. In the morning, Nick headed to a place he was quite familiar with, the UN offices in Holborn that had been his place of work for a year, to catch up with his old boss and former colleagues there. They welcomed him with open arms, all waiting to congratulate him on his promotion, even if that meant he was no longer able to make the annual trip to London that had once been mooted. The eldest son of his former boss was now in the throes of making applications for university, as he was about to enter his last year in high school. As he was doing very well academically, one of his teachers had suggested that he could apply for a scholarship place at an overseas college; in his case, his choice was Columbia in New York.
"Well, as you are aware, both Jeff and I are alumni of that institution, so I can confirm that he would get a good quality education there," said Nick. "Naturally, if he does get the scholarship, then you can remind him of our address, and have us put down as his first contacts in an emergency. Our door would always be open to him if he needed company or was having problems too. New York is a wonderful city, but at first it can be very daunting, even to a boy used to the hustle and bustle of London."
"To be honest, I think the fact that you are there might have had some influence on his choice; it allows him to appear mature enough to leave home and study thousands of miles away, whilst still having a safety net if things go wrong. To be honest, it will also allow my wife and I to sleep more easily in our beds knowing you are nearby. It seems like only yesterday that he was born…"
Nick nodded, and replied, "Wes is growing up so fast too. He is at school now, of course, entering into second grade, but he is so mature with it. I guess that in no time he will be a man as well, heading off out into the world… That thought makes me feel a little old…"
His former boss laughed, and said, "Yes, the thought does make you feel that way. I am personally dreading the first grandchild coming along, because that will make me feel positively ancient. However, there is nothing that we can do; it is all part of the unstoppable circle of life…"
As Nick caught up with his colleagues, Jeff had taken Wes to Covent Garden, once home to the city's flower market, but now an area with an eclectic mix of shops, the ballet, and their destination for the day, the Transport Museum. It was the one place that they had always intended on visiting whilst they had lived in the city, but somehow they had never managed to get round to it. Inside, the building was a treasure trove of old vehicles and trains, set out in a sequence to illustrate the way that the city's transport system had developed from horse and cart to the driverless pods that might well be the future…
That London had been the first city in the world to have an underground railway was something that Jeff was aware of, but it was news to Wes, and the young boy was pleased to find out that they had actually travelled on that route, in part at least, both yesterday and today. However, he then discovered that it had been run at first by steam trains, and then saw the first carriage design; a windowless box with padded walls… He was glad that technology had moved the trains on a great deal…
Wes also decided that he did not like the idea of horse drawn buses and trams either, firstly because it was a little cruel on the animal, and secondly, when he saw the figure for the amount of manure that they had produced on a daily basis and left in the city streets. The new electric buses and trams were a marked improvement… It was then that he noticed a poster that was not a vintage one, but rather an advert for another attraction in the city. He excitedly pointed it out to his papa, and on reading it, Jeff had to admit that it sounded like something rather unusual. A quick check on his phone lead him to discover that it wasn't that far from where they were now, and that there were tickets available that afternoon…
They had lunch when Nick rejoined them, heading to a burger restaurant; an independent one, not a chain, and thus the food was of a better quality than it might otherwise have been. As soon as he had returned, Nick had been bombarded with the information from the poster, and then had faced pleading looks from both his son and his husband. He had planned on a quiet stroll in one of the city parks that afternoon, or even a visit to the Zoo, but when he saw how excited his two travelling companions were by the new venue, he knew that those plans would need to be abandoned…
A short bus journey brought them to Mount Pleasant, and the Postal Museum. Nick insisted that they had to tour the whole collection now they were there, then head over to what was the main draw for his children… They had plenty of time before the next time slot for it in any case. The museum was more interesting than Jeff had predicted, with the story of the Post Office cats, employed on a salary to catch the mice eating the mail, and the displays of postage stamps even spawned an interest in philately in Wes. Nick knew he would need to find an album somewhere so that his son could embark on that new interest…
It was soon their appointed time though, and they crossed the road to the other building of the museum, descending the stairs as they prepared to board the 'Mail Rail' train. It was a narrow gauge one, almost impossibly small; a driverless train that had once ferried sacks of post under the busy and congested streets of the city when Mount Pleasant had been a huge sorting office. That role had ceased, and now it had been given over to tourists. They climbed in, the taller Jeff feeling a little squashed in the trains small dimensions, but once it got moving, it had all of the thrills of a rollercoaster, as they hurtled along beneath the streets of the still bustling metropolis…
There was still time for a stroll around Regent's Park after their trip, before they headed back to the hotel for dinner. They had been offered a deal on a meal by the hotel, and it was too reasonable to pass up. They had to dress up a little, as it was a silver service restaurant, and there would be three courses on offer. They arrived in good time, and were shown to their table, unlike when they had the buffet breakfast in the morning. A booster had been placed on one of the chairs, which raised Wes up just enough that he in a more comfortable position for eating.
As he sat there in his smart crisp shirt and tie, studying the menu, Nick realised once again that his young son was fast becoming a little man, earlier than many boys did. When the waiter arrived to take their order, he was surprised when Wes ordered his own food from the main menu, as normally the parents did so from the children's section towards the back of the menu. He took the order, which was unchallenged by his parents, and made a note that the kitchen should make the portions a little smaller to avoid wastage.
The food when it arrived was exquisite, a fusion of the Spanish influences of the hotel's owners with the best of traditional British cuisine. While his parents treated themselves to a small glass of wine, Wes was brought a similar wine glass of sparkling grape juice, which made him feel very adult indeed. That there were cheese and biscuits served after the sumptuous desserts made them all feel satisfied, and that helped to ensure that Wes fell asleep quickly after his bath. With their son asleep, Nick was happy to give his husband a good back rub, as he was feeling a little pain from being cramped in the tiny train carriage earlier; not that he would have missed out on the experience for the world…
The next morning saw them all smartly attired again, as they headed out in the direction of Kensington. The area had not changed much since it had been their home, and after alighting from the tube at South Kensington station, they took a walk through Thurloe Square. A couple of the residents recognised them as they passed by, and made time to stop and chat, marvelling at how much Wes had grown, and pleased to hear of Nick's promotion…
From there it was on to the restaurant that they would be having lunch in, a stone's throw from the Palace. They waited outside for the arrival of Miss Frobisher, and as they did so, Nick took a moment to remonstrate his husband again. "You should have been entirely honest with her about this lunch. She is expecting to share a meal with the three of us, not us and…"
He stopped, as he saw that Wes was now waving, like the well brought up young gentleman that he was, as he saw his former kindergarten teacher appear around the corner of the street. She was dressed as smartly as ever, and the smile on her face as she saw them was wide. They greeted each other, then headed inside. Miss Frobisher was so busy listening to Wes as he told her all about the Mail Rail and the Post Office cats that she failed to notice that they were not being shown to a table in the main restaurant, but rather to a private dining room off it. It was only as she was taking her seat at the table that she looked around, and saw the size of the table properly. "This table seems to be a little large for our party; are you expecting other guests?"
"Well…" began Jeff, feeling Nick's eyes burning into him. He faltered, then said, "I should really have been more honest with you when I invited you, and gave you some warning, because that would have been the polite and courteous thing to have done, but yes, we are expecting five other people. Three children and their parents…"
"Well, that is perfectly alright. I think that I can manage that," replied Miss Frobisher.
"What my dear husband is still omitting is the identity of the people in question," said Nick, frowning in Jeff's direction. "If I tell you that the children's names are George, Charlotte and Louis…"
He stopped as he saw the expression on Miss Frobisher's face as the penny dropped for her. "Oh, so it is The Cambridges that are joining us! Well, I knew that you had developed a friendship, so it isn't that much of a surprise, but yes, some warning would have been better…"
There was no time for any further discussion as the same waiter returned, cleared his throat, and announced the arrival of the royal couple and their children. They all stood as William came in first with his daughter, followed by Prince George, and finally Catherine and her youngest son. "Please, there is no need to stand on ceremony," said William with a smile. "Today we are just friends catching up over lunch."
Nick smiled back, then said, "Allow me nonetheless, Your Highness, to introduce an old friend of ours, Miss Frobisher…."
William came over as she curtseyed, then offered her his hand. "We may not have met before, but we have heard a lot about you, not just from these two but from several other people we know in Kensington. Your school was high on our list for George when the time came, and we only chose to send him elsewhere because of the amount of disruption that his presence would have caused to the other children."
"That is very gratifying to know, Your Highness; it would have been an honour to have had him attend nonetheless," the good lady replied.
As Kate came over to talk to Miss Frobisher, William turned to Jeff, and said, "My grandmother is very sorry to miss you, but she is currently at Balmoral, and the journey there now tires her more than it used to. Had you been staying here for longer, then she would have invited you to join her and my Aunt Anne there. She has asked me, informally, to ask you to come over next year for her 100th birthday celebrations; the official invite will be sent in due course, naturally. When you do, there is no need to book a hotel, as we will be delighted to host you in our new house in Windsor Great Park. We have moved there as Her Majesty wants to have her family close by these days…"
"That is understandable," said Miss Frobisher, who had overheard the Prince's words. "When we get to a certain stage in our lives we begin to crave the familiarity of what we know, the things of which we are most certain. I know that I certainly do these days… There have been a few people recently who have suggested to me that I should consider retiring from my school; after all, I am nearly sixty now, and they think that keeping up with young children must be a strain on me. Yes, I admit that I do find it harder now to get up from kneeling on the floor beside them, but then such things are ones that we all face from time to time. I think that the key to life is to stay active in both mind and body, as Her Majesty has always done, and then you can weather any storm that life might bring/. For me, having the school is my comfort; watching the children grow up, and seeing some of them, in time, bringing their own children to my school is what keeps me going."
"That is precisely my grandmother's attitude. She will never retire, and I suspect that we will all be celebrating her 80 years on the throne in 2032. Yes, those of us that are younger are taking on a little more, and although nobody would notice it, the things that she does do are simpler, shorter, close to her heart, and recently, have involved climbing fewer steps. She once said that she had to be seen to be believed, and that is what she is still doing…"
"If I am as active as she is when I reach her age, then I will be eternally grateful," said Nick, smiling.
The topic of conversation moved on then, through talk of education and the work of the UN, as their meal was ordered and then served. There were small titbits of gossip too, of course, and eventually Sebastian's name was brought up by the Duchess. "He is finding that life back in Ohio is very different to the life that he had as a star of Broadway," Nick remarked sagely in reply. "He initially kept himself busy with work around the house, getting to know his new neighbours, and meeting the people that Dave is working with. Once that was all done, he was at a loose end… So, he is going to be taking charge of the current generation of Warblers at Dalton when the new school year starts, as a favour to our friend Thad Harwood, who teaches at the school. I suspect however that Thad's insistence that he had to give up the task himself as he was tired and overworked is false; a ruse to give our Sebastian an occupation outside the home."
"If so, your Mr Harwood is very wise. Inactivity can certainly be a curse," replied the Duchess. "We all need a purpose in life, and sometimes a family alone is not enough, not when you have been used to hard work."
"Idleness and inactivity is definitely something that Sebastian needs to avoid," quipped Jeff with a grin. "It was that trait that meant that he had to spend months trying to rid one of the bedrooms in his new home of the odour of rotting fish…" His comment was met by curious faces, and so he had to explain from the start…
After lunch, Wes decided that he wanted to go to the Science Museum, and they walked the short distance to the building it was housed in, one of the trio of museums that Kensington contained in a cluster. Nick took the opportunity to scold Jeff, just a little, for telling everyone the story of Sebastian's revenge on his stepmother, when it was not really his story to tell. Admittedly it had made everyone laugh, and Miss Frobisher had indeed suggested a remedy of her own, which Nick would somehow have to pass on once they returned home, without making it plain that Jeff had been gossiping…
They had parted from the royal couple and their children with affection, and another dinner date was set for the following month; the Cambridges would be in New York themselves, part of the delegation representing the UK at the UN General Assembly. Kate was most anxious to finally see their home in the West Village in person, and a date was agreed for it. As it was a Sunday, Nick quickly realised that most of the neighbours, with a couple of exceptions, would be around, and he made a mental note to inform them of what was to happen. Then, to his surprise, the Duchess suggested that they have a tea party and invite them all. The fact that she was anxious to see a Broadway show was less of a surprise. When Jeff suggested a certain musical about a very British nanny, her response was extremely positive. That left Nick with a dilemma; should he invite Grace for afternoon tea, or should he suggest that she was at the theatre with Cooper for a meet and greet afterwards…
The interactive displays at the Science Museum were of course an immediate hit with both Wes and Jeff, the two of them as eager as each other to try out the various things on offer, and that allowed Nick to sit quietly with Miss Frobisher and have a proper chat.
"I can honestly say that today was an unexpected pleasure," the lady said with a smile. "I have seen the royals from a distance before, of course; when you live in Kensington, they are always around. I have never met any of them before today, however, and I certainly never imagined doing so in such a small, intimate lunch party."
"Jeff should still have warned you about that," replied Nick.
"No, I think that had he done so then the whole thing would have become much more stressful all round. I would have agonised for hours over what to wear, and would probably have bought something ridiculously expensive that I would never wear again. I would also have worn a hat, which is something I have never done before, except in the depths of winter! Of course, the added bonus is that I now have something to tell the children about at story time for a few days…"
Nick laughed, and responded, "Well, the Duchess took a few photos, and when she sends them to us, I will forward them on to you, so that it can be an illustrated talk."
"I would like that. I am thankful that I had your son enrolled in my school, and have made such firm friends with you and your husband. I will also never forget that it was thanks to you that Drew and Evie escaped from their nightmare. I talk to him on a regular basis, and he sounds so much happier. Evie also has the benefit of two parents that she adores."
"Yes, that much is certainly true. Now all we have to arrange is when you will be coming over to visit us all in New York again…"
They would spend their final day in London in the south of the city, exploring an area that they had never visited before. That omission had been in part due to the misconceptions of the area spread by people from elsewhere in the city, and also the fact that Wes was younger. Now though, a trip to the Brixton area was high on their to do list; Adam had lived in London for several years on and off before he had returned to New York, and he had waxed lyrical about the suburb. True, he admitted, the Brixton he knew was not the one of forty or more years ago, when rioting had made the area's name synonymous with crime and disorder. However, the same could be said for parts of New York that were now very fashionable. Gentrification, for all of its flaws, had come and transformed things; times had also changed…
The first thing that they saw as they exited the tube station was crowds of people, of all creeds and cultures, enjoying a Saturday stroll in a bustling shopping centre. Just along from the station they discovered a street market, filled with stalls selling African and Caribbean goods and foodstuffs. The air was filled with spices as they explored, Wes staying close to his parents. There was food to sample, and they did, savouring the new tastes. Jeff could see from the expression on his husband's face that he could expect a lot of new dishes to arrive at the dinner table, inspired by what they were sampling and the recipes in the cook books Nick would no doubt purchase.
They had lunch that day in a small café that Adam had recommended to them when Nick had hinted they might visit, and the little family agreed wholeheartedly with his choice. They left the market behind and crossed the street to look at the mural of David Bowie, born in the area, and the best known son of this part of the city. He had of course lived long enough to see the area change so many times. Then they took a bus on to the nearby area of Herne Hill, for a stroll around Brockwell Park, with its vast green spaces, miniature railway and old fashioned outdoor lido swimming pool, which was busy on a warm Saturday afternoon.
They had an ice cream as they sat in the park, looking out over the city spread out below, and watching the planes fly overhead as they approached the airports, then headed back to the main road to catch another bus that took them to the Elephant and Castle. They had not intended going there, but the first bus that had arrived at the stop had shown it as a destination, and Wes was curious. The driver of the 468 bus was happy to point out the monument of an elephant with a castle on its back, representing a howdah. They headed towards it, and Nick took a photo of his husband and son beside it…
The Bakerloo line tube would convey them back to Trafalgar Square, where Jeff had them pop into the National Gallery. The staff at the door recognised him, and welcomed them all warmly, then gave the artist a pass and directions to the new exhibit of paintings on loan. Jeff insisted that Nick and Wes leave him there, arranging to meet them outside in an hour, or when the staff dragged him out for them. That let Nick and his son head the short distance up the street to Foyles bookshop, where the cookery section was adjacent to the children's books…
As Nick perused the selection of Caribbean cook books, Wes was allowed to head over to the children's books, Nick keeping one eye on him at all times. Nick selected a trio of books that he felt were the best, one simple and two more complex, then went over to join his son, and found him clutching a few books of his own. Nick happily took those books and paid for them along with his own. They headed back, and found Jeff waiting for them at the bottom of the museum steps, holding a book of his own, full of illustrations of the paintings in the exhibit, and the life stories of the artist involved. It was then just a short walk to the bus stop for the 453 back to their hotel. It was still early, so Nick packed away all he could, leaving out only those things they really needed for the following day, before they headed out to dinner at a restaurant nearby.
On the flight home the next day, Jeff and Wes watched films whilst Nick read through his simple cookbook. He had worried that a lot of things would be complicated, but many of the techniques that he would need to employ were ones that he was already proficient in. Many of the ingredients he had also seen in the supermarkets or little corner stores back home too; he had just not known what to do with them. He promised himself that his new culinary voyage would not end up like the ones he had been on before, when they had first lived in the city, and he had cooked similar meals with the same sort of ingredients for days on end, not that Jeff or indeed Mike had ever complained too much. There would be no nightly assault with the new, and if he was honest, he didn't have the time for that these days anyway. No, it would be a weekend thing, choosing the fresh ingredients to provide new taste experiences for his little family…
That family was made whole again when they got back to the West Village, where Caleb greeted them with an indignant miaow from his bed. He did not deign to get up for them, given how long they had left him for, even if he had enjoyed having all the visitors, who had all been susceptible into feeding him much too often. His Uncle Mike had also brought him a lot of catnip, which always went down well. His temper did not last long though, and within an hour he was sitting on the blond's lap as he read through his new art book, watching as the other two humans that he allowed to live with him fussed around the stove. All in all, Caleb was happy that things were back as they were meant to be…