"Hey, hey. You guys. We're here," Nikki yelled out, her voice cutting through the amorphous mumblings and bad tannoy sounds in the airport lounge. She'd first caught sight of a fair-haired woman dressed in black trousers and white shirt. A second later, Annabelle came into view wearing her unmistakeable dark glasses perched on top of her head, long dark hair flowing over her white T-shirt and jeans. They were pushing their luggage trolley with perfect coordination of effort but they looked a shade disorientated in the direction they followed. Otherwise, they looked like two attractive women whose obvious closeness was apparent in their body language. It struck Nikki and Helen how sun tanned their friends were and how their own tans had faded.
"Wow, Nikki. It's so great to see you guys again," Annabelle called back, their trolley turning in their direction. Nikki and Helen clattered across the tiles and the four women hugged each other noisily without thought for the average holiday maker, bent on the custom made Ibiza holiday of getting legless in clubs, no sleep and random sex.
"You steer us to the exit, you guys. We feel pretty spaced out from flying over from California on top of two months of gigging," Simone said in weary tones. Helen took one look at their friends and could see how tired they looked underneath the superficial sparkle.
"We'll look after you," Nikki offered tenderly."We felt disorientated when we flew in to California."
Both women smiled gratefully, being happy to place their fortunes into their friends' tender and reliable hands. The weird acoustics of the the airport lounge were the final straw.
As they pushed through the swing doors into the outside world, a fierce blast of wintry gale blew through Simone and Annabelle's thin clothing and cut through their mental fog like a knife. It was only now they realised how their friends were muffled up in winter coats with sweaters underneath. They looked overhead and dark, angry clouds swirled overhead, being propelled rapidly through the sky.
"We'd better make a run for the car or we'll be drenched. I can feel it in the air," called out Helen sharply. Nikki grabbed the luggage trolley and pushed ahead as blasts of cold air stung her cheeks, Simone and Annabelle muzzily going along with the general idea. Looking around them,the airport had the same featureless surroundings as the airport they'd left behind only the weather was different. Finally, they arrived at a compact red Peugeot. Annabelle cast a quizzical glance at her partner but said nothing.
"Don't worry, we'll get everything and everyone inside," grinned Helen who had read their minds. To their surprise, they slid neatly into the back seat, while Nikki stowed their luggage into the pint sized boot and Helen got into what they vaguely supposed was the passenger seat. To Annabelle's open-mouthed surprise, it came equipped with a steering wheel.
"We had just the same sense of shock when we first got our hire car in California. Everything's the wrong way round," Helen said with her attractive grin.
It was only when they escaped out of the airport area that the two American women started to take notice of their surroundings. At that moment, a sudden blast of rain hit the windscreen so Helen clicked on the windscreen wipers at full strength, necessitating her to peer forward through the slightly smeary arcs of clear windscreen. This wasn't something either Simone and Annabelle were greatly used to back in California.
"Hey, the traffic's going the wrong way round," Annabelle said from out of the blue with that charmingly wide eyed manner of hers. It drew an immediate reaction from her friends.
"Oh you're so cute Annabelle,"Simone said, leaning against her lover and hugging her as the younger woman couldn't help but grin foolishly. It was a measure of how comfortable she felt with the three other women rather than get defensive and embarrassed. In instantly reconnecting with each other, all four women naturally went with the flow with each other.
"That's what we thought when we got to California," Nikki said in her infinitely tolerant and affectionate manner of hers."We goofed, at least mentally speaking."
To Nikki and Helen, the streets were typical nineteen thirties style mock Tudor or mock Gothic or some sort of crossbreed, with neat hedges or creosoted wooden fences in front and a small tree or so, bare of its leaves while ordinary cars whizzed past in the opposite direction. To the wide-eyed American women, gone were the familiar wide boulevards, the white clapboard houses, the palm trees and open lawns. The cars were smaller, more compact and there wasn't a convertible in sight. That was definitely weird. It sunk in on them that experiences as unknown treasures would be laid in front of them and this was an exciting prospect. As they drove through the busy traffic, Helen could also see in her mirrors that their two friends were starting to shiver with the unaccustomed cold so she turned up the car heating.
"Hey, what's that?" Simone called out as Helen cut past a large rectangular red vehicle with two rows of windows.
"Oh, it's a London double-decker bus," explained Nikki helpfully."It's as famous as your Greyhound coach only it's differently shaped. They travel all around London and pack in a lot of people on short hops."
Both Simone and Annabelle were very unusually stuck for words as they stared in wonder at this intriguing sight. It epitomised a quirky individuality in England they was really neat and practical at the same time. They got the logic.
Finally, they pulled up outside a large Victorian gabled house with a flight of steps in front and a solid red front door. Simone and Annabelle were awestruck by the sense of age and solidity that the building conjured up. This was real class to them and Annabelle dismissed her father's mansion as a moneyed tawdry fake version which was only designed to impress. This was the real thing.
"You mean to say you own this house?" Simone asked incredulously.
"We're only renting it. We aren't that rich and it suits our needs," laughed Nikki in her self-deprecating fashion that both women remembered most clearly about her.
A sudden blast of rain hit them as they manhandled the cases to the porch. Helen turned the key in the lock, pushed back the door and a large white painted hallway opened up with a vase of flowers in the middle. Simone and Annabelle liked this minimalist contrast and the house felt deliciously warm. They knew this was their two friend's thoughtful handiwork.
"So what do you want to do, unpack first or tea?" questioned Helen politely.
"We'd love a cup of tea and unpack later," Annabelle pronounced with relish followed by a smiling nod from Simone.
"That's great. Even I like a nice cup of tea on occasions," Nikki said with impudent humour.
They walked along the passageway, past two bedroom doors which opened out into the dining room area. Broad smiles spread across Simone and Annabelle's faces as they took in the lovely comfy red sofa and armchairs, the pictures on the walls, the warm colour schemes and the interesting stack of CD's and books, something they suspected they'd find. This room was so so rich in cultural enjoyment that they fell in love with it at once.
"I have to confess a guilty secret," Simone said softly with a coy smile on her face."If I go to a friend's house who I really respect, I end up checking out the music and books. It says so much about the person."
"You do that?" laughed Helen as Nikki headed to the kitchen to make the tea."Don't you remember the way Nikki went through your book collection with a fine tooth comb when we came over to your place?"
"Oh, I'd forgotten,"Simone said vaguely as she flopped down on the sofa."I guess I'd better blame it on the jet lag."
In truth, Simone was finding the combination of two months gigging and the flight over starting to catch up on her. The conversation instigated shards of memories of days when she was feeling the way to her future. She was also coming down from assuming her rock and roll persona who could stand on stage with her guitar and perform songs that didn't just demand instrumental and vocal skills but felt like working out in the gym and being larger than life. Hanging out with close friends proved to be the answer to her life's needs that she hadn't defined, only that she and Annabelle should honour their promise. Annabelle sat next to her and held her hand affectionately. The conversation drifted off into silence that felt right to them all. Helen's companionable presence felt ideal at that moment to the two tired out travellers.
Presently, Nikki came through from the kitchen carrying a large tea tray, complete with teapot, four brightly coloured yellow mugs, milk jug and sugar basin. She placed it on the solid square oak table in front of them and poured out the precious liquid.
"I'll be mother. I quite enjoy it...Oh yeah, traditional British expression expressing a traditional role," Nikki added with a grin on her face, relishing the paradox.
The two travellers were more than grateful for the comforting brew and Annabelle reflected on the fact that it did better for her than the traditional caffeine jolt. It took them to a serene place as they sank back in the settee. This was right where they wanted to be.
"I suppose you're not exactly set on going out on the town tonight?" Helen said politely, hazarding a guess quite rightly.
"You're right. What about some British TV? We've heard so much about it and I've always watched out for your dramas. "Brideshead Revisited" comes to mind for a start."
Nikki pulled a face. She knew very well how the airwaves were being overrun by reality TV programmes, lifestyle and property programmes while the sort of classic high production dramas that she loved were being sidelined. She knew that Anglophile Americans had precisely the same tastes and she felt as if she was an unnofficial spokesperson for the BBC and an imposter. It didn't feel good. She and Helen felt worse as a random choice brought up the programme they loathed, the reality TV programme that was sweeping the airwaves and provided tabloid press headlines. All at once, the braying sounds of the presenter, the cheap set and, most of all, the phony way their participation to vote someone or other out of the house.
"What the fuck are those jerks doing? Are they real?" exclaimed Annabelle loudly, looking seriously disturbed.
"You said it Annabelle," Nikki said laconically even though she was holding onto her own insides."Change the channel, Helen."
The smaller woman grinned apologetically and clicked randomly on the remote control and hit the off switch.
"It's like the Roman Colosseum only they don't feed people to the lions," commented Simone of the happily deceased episode of Big Brother. To their intense relief, the BBC news came into view, presenting a formal serious view of the world. Coming after Fox News which all four women had sampled, this represented enlightenment. The announcer was talking in measured tones about a murder inquiry which had now turned out to be suicide. It was interrupted when Helen made a dramatic intervention.
"Hanged. The word is hanged," yelled Helen in exasperation at the TV screen."Don't those BBC newsreaders ever get anything right."
Helen's outburst broke like a clap of thunder on the cosy get together. Nikki tried to pass off her lover's quirk while Simone had the peculiar feeling of hearing her former self leap out at her and hold forth. It felt like going through a revolving door and meeting herself coming the other way.
"Wow," Annabelle said at last."You'd have been one scary teacher if you'd thought of doing it for a career."
All three women broke into helpless fits of laughter at the priceless way Annabelle put it.
"Am I being totally unreasonable in wanting things to be exactly right? I have my standards you know," Helen retorted, her hands on hip gesture being stolen away by the suspicion of a smile stealing across on her face."Nikki, I appeal to you as proud possessor of a Batchelor of Arts degree in English to back me up."
"Darling, nobody could say you are wrong but possibly you're going a bit over the top, Next thing you'll say is that the country is going to the dogs,"Nikki said with a wry grin.
"To the dogs?" Simone replied with raised eyebrows as Annabelle could see her lover's literal mind work exactly on the same lines as she'd seen Helen at work.."I don't get it."
"Another traditional Brit expression much spoken of in conservative gentry towns where I grew up the origin of which I haven't a clue. Basically, it means that the country has lost its standards, become undisciplined and lacking any moral backbone. I think I'm right, aren't I Helen," Nikki replied in bright and breezy tones which tailed off in indecision.
"Of course you are sweetheart,"Helen's strong voice answered. Annabelle and Simone were fascinated in seeing and feeling the subtle interplay between these two very down to earth women.
"My father's a Naval captain and I've spent all my adult life in opposition to him rejecting me when I was expelled from boarding school. The trouble is that his favourite expressions come seeping right out of my unconscious when I don't want it," Nikki explained as a back-handed compliment.
"You're lucky your parents have made such a mark on you, Nikki. You're really lucky," Annabelle said in tender tones. This was one of those soft and tender moments where emotionally speaking, this felt like a group hug moment. They were at home with each other
"Perhaps we'll listen to some Tori Amos music instead," suggested Nikki softly. All four women brightened up at the idea.