A vague comforting soft pattering sound drifted in and out of consciousness as two women were suspended on the threshold of sleep in a magic place where all was possible. Amongst the vaguest of sensations was the feel and fragrance of soft material which induced an intense feeling of familiarity- that this is where destiny meant them to be. Both of them stretched their legs and curled themselves round each other just a little more and only when two blue eyes peeped open did consciousness dawn that surroundings had changed. Instead of pure white surroundings and glorious sunshine, red painted walls with tasteful pictures and muted daylight peeping through the strange curtains while the ceiling hung high over their heads. For one moment, a sense of complete dislocation overtook her till she realised the obvious conclusion- they'd flown over to London and they were in Nikki and Helen's house. With that reassuring thought, the fair-haired woman turned onto her back, hearing softly murmuring sounds close to her and feeling her lover cuddling up close as her eyelids drooped back into place. She, like Annabelle, was really tired and not up to facing the day yet.
"Hey honey, we';re in London," she called out happily to the world in general, her eyes opening wide."I can't believe it."
"We flew halfway across the world to be here. So Nikki and Helen's demonstration of affection gave you ideas last night," the younger woman mumbled sleepily with surprising precision.
"You weren't complaining but I know what you're thinking," laughed Simone softly."We'll have a lie in and an mug of coffee first thing before I drag you round art galleries." Annabelle pretended to give out a dismal groan in reply. In reality, she wanted to take her time enjoying these pleasures rather than diving in straightaway.
They finally wended their way into the living room and there in the middle was a spare set of front door keys and a letter started in Nikki's elegant writing awaited them.
"We're really sorry we can't be here with you today but we'll be thinking of you. You'll love the art exhibition, I promise you. Feel free to use the kitchen. We've left out a couple of umbrellas to be on the safe side cos Helen has checked out the weather forecast."
Helen's more angular script took over from then and gave a precisely written description of how to get to the arts exhibition and it prompted a memory of a conversation fragment from the previous night.
"So how do we get round London? By cab?" Simone had asked in questioning tones.
"It'll cost you a fortune. The tube's simpler,"Nikki said without thinking. Two pairs of blank expressions had told her and Helen how their British slang went over their friends' heads."I mean the underground electric railway network. It gets you pretty well round everywhere you want to see."
The two women exchanged guarded expressions as they got the translation. Helen had understood their feelings.
"OK, there are pickpockets- muggers- around but working London uses it all the time to get around. It's my favourite way of getting about. It doesn't look smart or gleaming, quite the opposite but I've had a strange affection for it ever since I got down here from Scotland."
Annabelle and Simone had exchanged glances. Finally, Annabelle shrugged her shoulders, letting Simone speak for them.
"When in Rome, I guess you do as the Romans do but lions and gladiators are scary to mess with," Annabelle had said with her endearingly dry humour which had made the others laugh.
This thought was uppermost in the two women's minds as they dressed in trainers with jeans and T-shirts and piled on a sweater each that Simone had thrown in at the last minute. The fair-haired woman went to the kitchen door and opened it wide, Annabelle following close behind. The cold air hit them straightaway.
"Hey, why are you looking out the window?"
"To see what's the weather like."
"You've never done this back home."
"That's California. This is England. That was then and this is now."
Finally, the two women stepped outside the front door. The air was cold and still and cut through the two women's clothing. Leaves lay on the ground in profusion where they'd fallen from the large tree out the front.
"Come on, we'll walk along and keep warm. Trust me," Simone directed breezily, holding Helen's map. Annabelle smiled tolerantly at all this organisation around her. Left to herself, she'd be wondering where the hell to go and she wouldn't be wearing the sweater. She hugged Simone's arm to her impulsively and affectionately as it dawned on her that they were walking the streets of London. As they walked along and looked around, they began to stare wide eyed around them. The foursquare standing yellow brick buildings positively reeked of history as TV aerials sprouted from ancient chimney pots and steep standing tiled roofs while ancient trees etched tracery lines with their branches from sturdy trunks. The grey sky overhead lent a dour colour scheme that made it seem like nothing they'd ever seen before. Tantalisingly so, the lower floors had often been converted to stores of all kinds. As their feet ate up the pavement, they gradually
acclimatised themselves to the bracing air while other people out on the streets huddled into their overcoats and jeans.
"Watch the traffic," Simone called out quietly into the younger woman's ear just as she was about to step out into the busy thoroughfare."The other way," she added. Annabelle gave a little grin to herself, gradually realising that her fellow Californian was becoming goddamn British right before her very eyes.
"I guess someone's got to stop us being run over,"the younger woman confessed with a wry grin on her face. Simone impulsively kissed her lover on her cheek in gratitude.
Very carefully, the two women mentally rewrote ingrained thought patterns from their childhood on crossing the road and tentatively reached the other side. Fifty yards away from them was the circular red and blue sign with the broad line running across the middle which advertised the underground station they were looking for, just as Helen had instructed them. They tentatively walked down the short flight of steps and, in the uncertain gloom, saw the ticket office, the row of turnstiles and, most important of all, the multicoloured drawing of the London underground network. The thought of that much tunnelling under the city streets was staggering to both women, so used to the domination of the automobile through the concrete lined freeways. Even more nervously, they bought a ticket and followed the sign for the Bakerloo Line platform. When signs pointed them to step onto the escalator, their breath was taken away when they felt themselves starting to drop down.
"Wow," Annabelle exclaimed as she peered her way down the breathtaking distance down to the bottom as it slanted down at forty five degrees. It made them feel dizzy as they clutched each other. As they floated down, theatre posters floated down past them. It energised them to travel round this city. Finally, they arrived at the bottom and came up against a line of stations going north and another line of stations heading south- it was time to decide which platform.
"North or south?" Annabelle asked dazedly
"South," Simone directed. When the two women arrived onto the platform, they were mystified and intrigued to hear a growing humming sound and a rush of air rustling their hair. They wondered exactly what was going on until, lo and behold, a red electric railway train whizzed into the station and ground to a halt in short order. The doors opened up and the others on the platform poured into the train. The two women were frozen in thought.
"Let's get the train before we get left out,"Annabelle said determinedly. They shuffled in right at the end of the crowd and slid inside just before the doors shut tight behind them. A low electric hum started to pull the train sideways along the track in a curiously comforting fashion as Simone and Annabelle found their way to a couple of spare seats .
"This is really happening," sighed Simone ecstatically as the train jogged along the journey along the darkened tunnel. An automated voice told them they'd arrived at Piccadilly Circus. This time around, the escalator wasn't so intimidating as both women now noticed the locals' nonchalant manner. At the top, they were guided along by an endless dark tunnel which was the stuff of weird dreams till faintly in the distance, the delicately arching sounds of a violin as it savoured the melody conjured up came into earshot. The two women paced faster and faster and a young, pale faced woman wearing longish dark hair and dark clothes could be seen at a corner marked out for a busker and only the odd passer by stopped to pay attention much less drop a coin into the open violin case that contained not half the money that was this artist's due
"This is so amazing,"Simone breathed as both women stepped to one side to let the busy passers by get to their necessary destinations. The two women were held magically suspended in time and space as they heard the woman play out her magic and were pleased that a couple of others joined them. It was only after a while that the contrary desire for the art exhibition began to tug at both women. The fair haired woman reached in her purse for one of those small thick golden coins with the Queen's head and fiddled nervously with it. Dropping it into the violin case was surely a precursor to moving on when the problem was solved as the busker executed one final bold flourish. She smiled and bowed slightly at her audience, flushing slightly with pleasure. It was then that the coin flicked through the air in an arch to land with a clink on the other coins.
"Thanks everyone. Unfortunately, I have to leave," she said politely. She noticed that this was the cue for the audience to move on except for the two sun-tanned strangers who looked the picture of healthy living. By contrast, she wore a black cloak with a thick sweater underneath, black jeans and ballet slippers. She picked up on the way they had responded to her and that the little audience had coalesced around them.
"Do you want a hand?" the fair haired woman asked politely in her charmingly soft-spoken American accent. The busker tipped the change into her holdall and handed her violin and bow to the woman who clicked the case shut with practiced ease.
"I'm a student at the Royal College of Music. This helps pay my bills," she explained politely."I've simply got to get to my first lecture without looking too knackered at a couple of hours busking. Knackered means tired out,"she helpfully added as the blank looks told her that she needed to translate.
"Do you want to walk our way? We're off to the Waterhouse exhibition at the Royal Academy," the smaller woman with long dark hair explained in her enthusiastic fashion.
"You'll really love it. I went there on one of my off days. Are you two musicians?"the busker asked, sensing what the answer might be.
"Not in your style. We play guitars in a sort of folk and rock band and write songs. We're on vacation from California stopping at some friends house," the dark-haired woman started to say chattily as if she'd known this woman all her life. The three of them chatted companionably as they climbed a short flight of stairs and were a little disappointed when they arrived at their destination, the row of turnstiles. They emerged at last into the clear, cold air and the juxtaposition of the statue of Eros and the garish Coco Cola illuminated advert on the side of the building disorientated them.
"I'm catching the bus to college. The stop's just down the road. You'll be walking the same way?" she said, feeling a little shy alongside these two superconfident women.
"Of course. We'd love to have your company for a little longer," came the heartwarming response from the dark-haired woman with her friendly smile. Both women fell into line a little behind the music student as it was easier than translating the highway code themselves. They chattered away amongst themselves while ancient buildings towered overhead. This boggled the eyes of these two American women who saw everything with fresh eyes. To the music student, this was part of her everyday surroundings. Finally, they came level with the bus stop.
"I guess you two are an item- I mean you're lovers. I mean I can feel a special closeness between you," the music student said, stammering slightly and feeling really gauche and that she'd really put her foot in it. Luckily they came to her rescue.
"Why thank you so much. That's so much of a compliment. We are lovers," the fair haired woman said, glowing all over and putting her arm round her equally gratified partner whose open spreading smile was a clear and open answer. Unfortunately, they could see their nameless friend's eyes flick to one side and they sensed
"You're really great," Annabelle said, feeling strongly that she hadn't done even halfway justice to the strength of her feelings for this kind-hearted woman."I guess that's your bus," she added as she sensed a red blur to the side of her vision and the sounds of a vehicle coming to a halt. To her enormous surprise, it was what Nikki had called a double-decker bus only right up close this time. Their newly discovered friend hugged them each in turn and padded lightly through the gap left by the double concertina doors that had opened up for her. She blew them a kiss just before paying her fare, being swallowed up as the doors shut tight on her and being whisked off down the street. It struck the two women that they'd never exchanged names, something they ruefully wrote off as par for the course in city life, whichever side of the pond they lived.