The foggy night air was riveting as Pam and I raced to Harrods at Knightsbridge. The freezing drops of rain that I had despised only an hour or so ago were so refreshing as they hit my face. We dashed through the dark streets and laughed as people stood in awe, trying to figure out what had blown past them so quickly. In a strange game of capture-the-flag, the flag of course being a glittering evening gown on the fourth floor, Pam proved to either be directionally gifted or have an exceptional memory of the London she once knew. Within three minutes of our sprint from the graveyard, we were standing under the green awning, looking in on a floor of makeup and perfumes, bags and jewelry. Pam stood outside the door with her hands pressed to the glass, like a child forbidden to enter the toy shop of his dreams. "Look at all of that makeup. My god, Sookie, there's enough to even make you beautiful!"
"Ouch, Pam. She turned to me to see if her joke had indeed hurt my feelings, something she claimed to have left in Victorian England as she was turned. "Actually, you could use a little touch-up. That high speed tour of London kinda got to your hair." She caught her own reflection and gasped- she was not picture perfect!
"Oh my goodness, you're right. Let's head to the salon first- I think it's on the third floor."
I could have cared less what I looked like. I hadn't eaten since Bon Temps. "Can't we go to the café first? I could drink from roadkill I'm so hungry."
She was not amused by a young vampire's appetite. "Charming, Sookie. Fine. A True Blood to go that we'll drink in the salon."
"Thank you Pam!" And finally, we opened the door and strutted our wind-blown hair, running-mascara stuff. The sounds of Harrods' first floor hit me first. The spraying of perfume bottles at passersby, the subsequent scents of flowers and spices, the chiming of old fashioned cash registers, and rustling of olive green shopping bags. Okay, I could get in to this. The colors were spectacular, from the marble-white of the floor to the bronzed or golden finishing on the walls, this place reeked of filthy rich Brits. It was awesome. The hundreds of thousands of bottles of makeup promising smoother lines and a fresher complexion gleamed under the florescent lights and the delicate pastels and bold metallics begged to be sampled. Pam led the way to what I could only assume was the salon, dancing past the anxious teens and twenties hovering amongst the ground floor to maybe catch a glimpse of their first vampire. Naturally, they were not impressed with the wrecks that we were. Or maybe they just assumed that we were just there to see vampires too, and not because we actually were vampires. No matter what they were thinking (which after a little listen proved to be a little both, and mostly people were looking for vampires of the male variety) Pam and I brushed past them on our quest for a makeover. Or blood. But Pam was probably going to get her way and we would have to be glamorous before we could be fed. Or maybe Pam was thinking about a makeover and then something a little fresher in a back alley somewhere.
I turned off for a few minutes so I could process everything I'd experienced tonight from the Egyptians in the lobby to Pam's fury over her sister's missing body, to the people huddled on the main floor hoping to see a famous vampire. I snapped back to reality when I overheard Pam telling her hair stylist that she had once lived in London and had known Queen Victoria personally. The salon was even more beautiful than the makeup floor of the building, and pale (but still very human) waitresses twirled around the Salon with complementary wine glasses of Burgundy Royale. I motioned for one softly and felt the soft jerk of someone trying to untangle my hair from the mess it had become during my joy-ride through London. The blood was lukewarm but still wonderful after being hungry for so long. I drank the first glass very quickly to take the edge off of my craving for the hair stylist's throat, and then was able to enjoy a second glass more slowly. Even Pam had taken a glass and was able to take a sip every once in a while between her endless retelling of her memories from a Victorian England childhood. I tried to pay attention but I was extremely distracted. Something big was bothering Eric and I couldn't place my finger on it, and he was thinking too fast for me to latch on to his thoughts at any distance from him.
"So how long have you been a vampire?" My stylist finally asked me, trying to break the silence.
"Only a couple months, actually. Have you had many vampire clients this week?"
"Only a few. I've got thirteen up-dos scheduled for the night after tomorrow and a few manicures. It's a meeting of some sort, right?"
"I guess. I'm not overly sure. I'm here with the Sheriff of my area."
"It's her boyfriend, and my maker." Pam butted in to our conversation. "He's quite famous around our part of the world." Neither stylist was sure how to react to that and so they put their heads down and looked very absorbed in their work. Pam's stylist was wishing she'd gotten a more modest client and my stylist was afraid that Pam was going to try to glamour her into a drink.
The rest of the makeover went about the same, me trying to absorb everything that had gone on over the past few days, Pam bragging about her role under Eric in Area 5, and the stylists rushing to get my hair curled, her hair straightened and both of us wearing at least three layers of makeup.
The makeover finished soon after that, and Pam paid them with Eric's credit card and we were off to look at makeup on the main floor. I was more interesting in watching the people watching us and listening in on their thoughts. They were more impressed with us after we had been cleaned up. A couple boys in their early 20's ran over to us and offered to hold our makeup for us so we could shop. One of them, a lanky redhead even asked if he could accompany us for the rest of the night. Pam shrugged and handed him a large bottle of hair-spray to hold. I figured that Pam would be thoroughly entertained in the cosmetics for a while, and I wandered off to find a little souvenir for Amelia. It was as if she heard me thinking this, and I suddenly felt a strong urge to go left and found myself in a beautiful glittering room full of gold, silver, platinum and diamonds. And then I was sure that Amelia had somehow given me a little push. So I found some earrings that seemed very Amelia, little sapphire studs wrapped in a thin ribbon of diamonds. I handed over my credit card to the cashier, a tall man with deep chestnut hair and turned as he took them out of the display case. I could hear an opera singer belting out an aria from a few floors up, and I began to wander away from the display case.
"Miss Stackhouse? Would you like me to hold on to this or would you like to take it with you?" The man said, my credit card in his left hand and a little green jewelry box in his right, both stretched towards me. The box. Amelia wanted me to see the box. The same green box that I had seen on the kitchen table, and then the bedroom. Eric had been here.
"Silly me. I'll take these. And I was wondering if there was something else you could help me with tonight." He looked puzzled. "About four or five nights ago, there was a tall blond man in here, an American. What did he buy?"
"I'm sorry, I don't usually work the evening shift. I'm afraid I can't help you." He said, and walked away towards the back of his display case.
I guess I had taken longer than I thought, because a frustrated Pam stood outside the jewelry section tapping her foot. The two boys stood on either side of her, each holding numerous shopping bags.
"Eric was here." I told her, astonished. Had he really asked me to marry him last night? Or had I been dreaming?
"Took you long enough." Said Pam. "Come on, Sookie. We're expected on the fourth floor." She turned quickly on her heel and headed towards the escalators. Her small entourage followed her, dutifully carrying her shopping bags as I grabbed the little green box with Amelia's earrings and my credit card and followed her up. By the time we had reached the fourth floor it was clear that the boys had both been glamoured into holding her shopping bags, and as we stepped off the escalator she told the boys that they need to wait here for us. They both stood silently with no protest to her request. Well done Pam.
I turned away from the boys to see that there were three tall women all dressed in smart black dress suits, waiting for us. "Miss Ravenscroft and Miss Stackhouse, welcome to London. May we take your bags or offer you a refreshment?" These women were expecting us, and the one on the left was even thinking about how lucky we were to have a man like Eric making arrangements like this for us. I quickly learned from them that he had booked the whole floor so that we could shop in peace for the evening. I'd rather not think about how he pulled that off, but I'm guessing he had to reach deep into his pockets to rent out an entire floor of the most popular store in England.
"We're fine, but you can tell those boys out there that they can drop the bags and leave. They're no longer of any use to me." Pam said nonchalantly, inspecting her nails.
The woman on the left and did just that, and the one in the middle beckoned for us to follow her into the endless collection of glamorous evening gowns. "Mr. Northman came in last week and picked out several dresses for each of you to try on this evening. He also left a credit card on file with us so that you could take whichever dresses and accessories that you like. We would also like to remind you that the salon will be open at night and that he set up appointments for each of you for a massage, facial, manicure, pedicure, hair and makeup for the event two days time from now, beginning at 7 o'clock." I was speechless. I knew Eric was good, but this was just too good to believe. He had seriously thought of everything.
We had approached the fitting rooms and noticed the two racks of gowns waiting for us, magnified and multiplied by the five mirrors that surrounded us. My goodness- we did look good. The dresses that Eric had picked out for Pam were various shades of deep red in all sorts of styles and cuts, and even a few lacy black gowns that contrasted her pallor and red-tinted blonde beautifully. The dresses he had picked out for me were all on the other end of the color spectrum, mainly silver and white. Amongst the rack of sparkling white and silver were a few very pale pastels including a very light lavender and a scoop neck with the slightest hint of pink. "How boring." Pam said, eyeing my dresses. "I'm glad at least one of us gets to look good tomorrow night." She grabbed a blood red (how fitting) dress off of the rack and dashed into the fitting room. I began with the sparkling lavender. Trying it on slowly (I was terrified to rip something or tear off a bead) I ran my fingers along the plunging neckline and admired the muscles in my back in the mirror. I do love the way a halter top holds everything in up front and shows off my strong shoulders earned from years of hauling trays of food around Merlotte's. I wish Sam could see me now. The dress had yards and yards of fabric in the skirt and I felt absolutely gorgeous. I did a fake Miss-America acceptance speech with the obligatory princess wave and decided that this lavender beauty was coming home with me. I did similar examinations of the remaining dresses, modeling each one for Pam and the three women working, each of them having input that varied from "absolutely!" to "what the hell was Eric thinking?" and after nearly an hour of trying on dresses that Eric had picked out and dresses that Pam picked out for me (she had so much fun, I just couldn't say no) I had narrowed my choices down to a black gown that Pam had decided against, a silver gown that Eric had picked out, the sparkling lavender dress, a deep red dress (also a Pam castaway) and a light blue dress that went well with my eyes (or so the three women said told me). I let Pam pick out my accessories for me- she enjoyed this shopping thing so much more than I did and I tried to pick up on Eric's mood and location. He wasn't far off and he was simultaneously stressed beyond belief and beaming with delight. I wandered around the racks of dazzling purses and clutches, and overheard Pam giving fashion lectures to the women that had been helping us for the past hour.
I sat back in one of the plush chairs that sat near the register, probably for impatient or bored husbands who had been dragged along for the ride, and closed my eyes. Something big was going to happen and I just couldn't put the puzzle pieces together. The green box, selection of white dresses and Eric's marriage proposal last night was one I had put together but refused to believe, but there was so much more than my personal puzzle. Something around here just wasn't right and not knowing was driving me nuts. I had a sudden flash of Eric's presence and then a sharp rapping at the fourth floor window. Eric stood outside, a small pink box with silver bows in his hand. That certainly didn't add up to my theories. Naturally, the window did not open and Eric had to fly back to ground level and then take the escalators like everyone else, but the tall ex-Viking's presence at the window gave the saleswomen something to talk about.
"Were none of the dresses I picked out to your liking, my love?" Eric breathed into my ear as he wrapped his strong arms around my middle, approaching me from behind as I pretended to be occupied with the displays of sparkling hair accessories. Not that they weren't beautiful of course, but they suddenly seemed so irrelevant. He kissed my neck lightly, gently pushing my hair away with a soft caress that began at my collarbone and somehow ended with a little pink box in my right hand. He could feel my sudden panic, anxiety and even fear of what could possibly be in the box and he breathed in the scent of my hair and exhaled softly, "don't worry, it's just from Amelia. I found it in my suitcase with a note asking you to wear it to the convention." Knowing Amelia, I figured it was an overly skanky pair of lacy panties that would entertain Eric for a whole millisecond before he tore them off of me. I was a little afraid to open this box in public! "It's not skanky panties." Eric laughed softly, deeply.
I had to laugh a little at this, and I began pulling apart the silver ribbons. The box had subtle heart prints all over it (I guess it is nearly Valentine's Day) and on the inside I found a delicate beaded crystal bracelet from her recent beading obsession. This time she had remembered to add a gold clasp- the latest creation of hers had a silver clasp and needless to say just didn't work out for me. Eric lifted the delicate strand of sparkling crystals out of the box and placed it on my wrist, fastening the little clasp that I always needed a third hand for. "She said you absolutely must wear it tomorrow night, and it would be best if you wore it for the entire trip. She was very specific about that."
"I will." I promised both Eric and Amelia this. "And the dresses were gorgeous. But I thought I'd wait until tomorrow to surprise you with one." He looked unsure of this. "I'll even let you pick out the dress I wear each night we're here. Okay?" There were two important nights, one night of meetings and the second night would be a vampire social ball. I was thinking more along the lines of a really pale prom but Eric and Pam had assured me it would be much more elegant. Like Cinderella, Pam had once said, giving me a one-over. She thought of me more as an ugly step-sister at this point in our relationship. She was the last to warm to the thought of me being a vampire and Eric's mate. Pam cleared her throat loudly to bring us both back to reality. "Can we go now?" I whispered to Eric. Harrods was wonderful and breathtaking and everything I had ever wanted anything to be, but I just wanted to spend some time in London with my Viking.
Eric turned to Pam and cleared his throat in response. "Pam, I have some business to attend to with Sookie. Will you be alright on your own for a while?" Pam nodded quickly, her arms full of evening gowns. "Then we'll meet you at the agreed-upon place two hours before dawn. And you will be there, Pam." Pam didn't get bossed around often but when she did, she let you know that it wasn't going to happen again. And if looks could kill, we'd all be dead. Just to rub in the salt, Eric added, "and make sure Sookie's clothes get back to our room before we meet you later." Pam rolled her deep brown eyes and gave a small grunt of disapproval.
Eric and I descended the escalators until we had reached the main floor, where a gaggle of young women had gathered to wait for Eric's return to the streets of London. As they saw us hand in hand, simultaneous moans of disbelief and disappointment could be heard, and Eric gave my hand a squeeze to show me how amused he was as such a response. Walking out the front doors of Harrods, I saw a smug grin creep across his face. He pulled me to him for a tight embrace, and whispered in my ear, "hold on tight." Before I could even register what he could have meant by this, my feet were leaving the ground as we both ascended towards the tops of the buildings. The girls that had gathered in Harrods all rushed outside to see if two vampires had really just flown away, and each of them more flabbergasted than the other to see that they weren't dreaming it. Eric shifted me gently into a more comfortable flying position and we began our aerial night tour of London. The fog was finally starting to break and the stars were starting to shine through the cloudy night sky. The lights from underneath us, however, were much brighter than those above us. I was too amazed for words at the things that we saw, so Eric made sure I knew what I was seeing. "The Eye of London," he'd say, "the world's largest Ferris wheel," or "Buckingham Palace. Those Corgis taste terrible." He always added a fact or two from each place we passed from above and by the end of the tour nearly three hours later I knew all about Big Ben, the Tower of London, Piccadilly Circus, Trafalgar Square and all of the other places in London that I had only dreamed of seeing in my old existence. We looped back around to Big Ben towards the end of the tour, and landed softly on the roof of Parliament where Pam, fully accessorized and overly glamorous, sat waiting with our three packets of papers with maps, phone numbers, seating charts, and probably the family tree of every vampire attending the meeting. Pam was very thorough when putting things like this together. Eric and Pam chatted quickly about the location of the Fellowship of the Sun member's locations and activities since they arrived in London, as well as the itinerary for tomorrow night's meeting to discuss the "guidelines" that vampires should live by now that we're out of the coffin, as well as political vampire territories and other vampire politics. This was all a bit above my head at this point, but I listened in so I knew whose thoughts to follow for the remainder of our trip. So far Pam had tracked 38 FOTS members and a few other vampire-hating groups that had the nerve to call themselves Christians. Bring it on, Newlin. You won't win this time.