A Tale of Two Cities : Part IV
In Paris on Tuesday morning, Santana was overseeing the final packing of the small case that would accompany her and Brittany to London. The bulk of their luggage would remain in Paris in the custody of François; after all, they would be returning to the city for another two nights at the end of the week, their homeward flight from Charles de Gaulle to JFK having been booked long ago, and not changeable without a massive fee. She had finally told her wife the day before that they would be going to London for a few nights, and to say that she was excited would be an understatement. She had started to seek out the company of Lord Tubbington, in the belief that he might be able to pull some strings and get them an audience with the Queen. Santana had merely shaken her head, whilst François was just totally confused as to why she was asking for her cat, and was half expecting that at some point, a Skype call would be deemed necessary.
Brittany had calmed down a bit now, and was just sad that François could not come with them. He said the same, whilst citing all of the various commitments that meant he had to stay in the city. The absence of the two young woman would let him feel free to go and help out in the bar his friends owned in the Marais, not to mention allowing him to do some of the college work that he had been putting off since they had stopped for the holidays. He still found time that morning to walk with them to the Metro, to see them off on the train to the Gare du Nord. Alongside their case, they had a bag of fresh croissants from the boulangerie. Grace had mentioned on Facebook that the ones in London fell a lot short after those in Paris, so they had decided that it was only fair to allow Grace and Cooper to enjoy a few more.
They arrived at the station in good time, and had no issues with passing through the passport control; this was mainly because Santana had asked Brittany to let her do all the talking, and for once her wife had agreed. Santana had feared that if she let her talk, she would start to ask the guards if they knew the Queen, or whether they were related to the Tubbington family. As it was they passed through with little more than a cursory glance at their documentation. After a short wait, they were able to board their train, and it was only then that Santana realised that the Warblers had booked them into the same top class seats that Grace and Cooper had travelled in a the weekend. As the train pulled slowly out of Paris, and an attentive waiter poured them both a glass of champagne before handing them the lunch menu, Santana couldn't help but think that Sebastian and all of his Warbler friends were true gentlemen. She quietly thanked Puck for sending Kurt to spy on the 'Garglers' all those years ago. Without that, she doubted whether she and Brittany would even be in Europe, let alone living the high life on the Eurostar…
Cooper and Grace were waiting for them when the train arrived at St Pancras. They had spent the morning at the National Portrait Gallery, which was tucked away behind the main National Gallery. It was a British history lesson, of course; portraits of Kings and Queens, Lord and Ladies, and naturally, Prime Ministers. In the twentieth century gallery they did recognise a lot of the faces, given that they showed people that had existed in their own times. They had purchased sandwiches for lunch, and had sat to eat them on a bench in Trafalgar Square; it was full of people and pigeons, and had traffic moving down three of its sides, so it was not the most peaceful of places. They eventually took the Northern Line train up to Euston Station, and had then walked the short distance to St Pancras, along the side of the busy Euston Road.
They had arrived in good time, and thus had time to admire the statue of Sir John Betjeman that dominated the station; the poet had been instrumental in the campaign to save the building they were standing in from demolition, just as Jackie Kennedy Onassis had saved Grand Central Terminal back in New York. They made their way downstairs to stand at the doors through which arriving passengers walked onto the concourse, and it was there that they discovered the piano that was just there for anyone to walk up and play. It was not in use, and Cooper suddenly found it impossible to resist the temptation to go up and use it; he was rusty, but he could recall a few of the old standards that he had learnt in his piano lessons all those years ago….
He was happily playing away, more or less in tune, when the doors opened and the people that had just arrived from Paris began to make their way through. Grace was therefore left to welcome the two young woman to London on her own, Cooper having just launched into a rendition of My Way. Santana laughed as she saw who was playing, and that he had gathered a sizeable crowd, but when Brittany ran over to him, and joined in on the vocals, she did glance for a moment at Grace, as she had done outside Notre-Dame, as if to say 'let's just leave and pretend that they aren't with us.' However, on finishing the song, Cooper got up, bowed to his applauding public, and allowed someone else to go and play.
"That was quite a welcome to London," Santana laughed as he gave her a hug.
"Well, it was just sitting there, and as Blaine isn't around to jump up and play, someone else had to," he replied, as they walked in the direction of the tube, handing the Oyster cards they had already purchased for the new arrivals to them. Two stops on the Circle Line later saw them at Great Portland Street, and heading towards the White House Hotel; Sebastian had booked it as he had good memories of staying there with the boys two years ago. Cooper and Grace waited in the lobby whilst the girls checked in, then escorted them back out again to the nearest bus stop, to board a 453 bus that would take them down to Oxford Street. Cooper had selected one store in particular for them to visit that night, with a lot of help from Kurt. He felt that Liberty would be perfect; Brittany would love the clothing on sale there and that would make Santana happy, and Grace would find the architecture of the building every bit as fascinating.
For Cooper, the next half an hour would have been horrendous had it not been for an angel directing him towards the menswear department; his brother had helpfully saved him from having to stand and look at summer dresses, one after another. As Kurt had rightly surmised, Brittany was enthralled, and thanks to her math skills, she was able to quickly deduct the VAT and then change the prices to dollars. She found one dress in particular that she adored, and although it was not cheap, it was well made and in a timeless style. She tried it on, and the smile that appeared on Santana's face the moment that she stepped out of the fitting room made the sale for her. The purchase made, they went in search of Cooper, and found him in the middle of trying on hats of all things. In the end, he did not make a purchase; the salesman did however point out that there was a specialist gentleman's hat shop further down Regent Street. This lead to a discussion about the other specialist stores that still managed to trade in London, and it seemed that as well as the specialist tailors shops of Savile Row that they had all heard of, there was a shop at the far end of Oxford Street that only sold umbrellas. As the little group headed out of the store and back into the hustle and bustle of Regent Street, they all thought how unlikely it was that a store could in this day and age still make money from specialising in one item like that. "I guess it might sustain itself on a combination of high quality and novelty value," remarked Grace. "After all, we are all curious to go and pay the store a visit now, and chances are that if we do, we will make a purchase." The other three nodded in complete agreement.
They headed through Piccadilly Circus, where Brittany insisted on having a photo taken with Eros in the background, then continued up Shaftsbury Avenue past the theatres, to the pub that had become Cooper and Grace's go to venue for their evening meal. It was Steak Night once again, and the prices for the food worked out as much lower than they would pay anywhere in New York for the quantity and quality. After Cooper had placed their order at the bar, Santana made a study of the menu and the concept of the themed nights. The regular prices of some of the dishes were shown on the main menu, whereas others seemed only to be available that night. After a few minutes, she voiced her thoughts out loud. "I wonder if we could do something like this at the Spotlight? Okay, so we are usually always pretty busy, but there are a couple of nights a week when we could accommodate a few more customers. This concept might just work for us too, although what themes we would use would have to be discussed by all the partners."
"If you could get the pricing right and ensure that it covered its costs, then yes, it would be a good idea," replied Grace. "But there have to be pitfalls. What happens to the other items you sell on those nights? How much do their sales drop as a consequence of the promotion? I mean, look around you - virtually everyone is eating a steak… It is a good concept, but it is one that would need a lot of research and a proper trial."
"That is true, but you have to agree, in principal, this might just work," Santana replied. Further discussion was cut off by the arrival of their food.
They ended their night with a trip on the London Eye. It was something that Cooper was keen to do, and once he had explained what it was to Brittany, she was just as set on it. They caught a bus as far as the bottom of Whitehall, then walked over the bridge, passing Big Ben. This meant a stop for more pictures, and whilst they were being taken, the clock chimed as if on cue. At the London Eye, they showed the online ticket that Cooper had bought back at the pub and now had on his phone to the staff, and were soon in their cabin. Once they were up at the top of the wheel, all of them had to agree that it was an excellent way to see the city as dusk fell, particularly as so many of the landmark buildings were floodlit. After their trip, they parted ways at Waterloo station, as they headed to catch different tube lines home, but not before agreeing a time to meet at Charing Cross the next day.
The next day they all arrived early, and by hurrying across the street, they were able to catch an early departure on the heritage route 15 bus. The concept of the open platform at the back was a new one to all of them, and did not seem all that safe; once they had climbed up the stairs and headed down to the front of the upper deck though, they could all immediately see why these buses were so popular with Londoners, and had won the hearts of six young men two years before. The bus moved swiftly through the busy city traffic, and seemed able to move through narrower gaps than their modern counterparts. They also then saw the real benefit of the open platform; they witnessed people boarding and alighting from the bus as it was stopped in traffic snarl ups, miles away from any official stop.
The vehicle also seemed the most appropriate way to approach the entrance to St Paul's Cathedral. The building itself was very impressive, and they all agreed that they would return to visit it later. All of them had seen that picture from that night in late 1940, when during the London blitz the building had been surrounded by a sea of fire, and the iconic image of the dome wreathed in smoke and flame had been taken.
Eventually they arrived at the Tower of London, and more photographs had to be taken. The advantage of ordering tickets in advance meant that they could bypass the long line of people and head straight in, more or less. The Tower was a fascinating place, full of history. The staff were friendly, and they all had a chance to see the famous ravens. The real highlight though came in standing on the slowly moving pavement to pass by the Crown Jewels. Brittany summed it up best when she stated that she felt sorry for the poor Queen, having to wear so much wealth, and carry what had to be a heavy crown on her head. They ended their visit with a stroll down to the river so that they could see Tower Bridge, and were lucky enough to arrive just as it was opening to allow a boat through. More photos were taken, and then it was back to the bus stop to catch a number 15 back to St Paul's.
Whereas Notre-Dame had been dark and medieval, St Paul's was bright and cheerful. They arrived just in time for the choristers to start singing for a midday service, and the sound of their voices raised in praise echoed through the building. They did not stop their tour, instead moving silently round the vast precincts of the church, enjoying the sound. This was a building whose interior they had all glimpsed on the television before now; this was the place where the funerals of the great and the good of the UK were sometimes held, and where great celebrations of royalty also occurred. It was strange to think that the tiles that they now stepped on had been trodden on by the Queen herself. They climbed the steps up to the Whispering Gallery, and tested it out, the effect leaving them all smiling. As they looked down from their height into the building below, they could all see how the building had become such a symbol; a beacon of hope in an otherwise bleak and uncertain city, as the tides of war washed over it, and tore apart everything that people had known for generations.
"They came close to losing this place, you know," came a whisper, and they all turned to see Wes standing there. "On the night that that photograph was taken, the city around this building was devoid of people. As the bombs fell, it was left to a small but determined band of people up on the roof to defend this place, armed only with sand, shovels, buckets of water and tiny hand pumps. By that night, a bomb had already damaged part of the back of the building, but that night, no more high explosive bombs fell on the building. It was the incendiary bombs that they had to worry about; tiny projectiles designed to start fires, and burn at such a high temperature that they could melt the lead on the roof and cause the ancient timbers below to combust. They knew that if a fire started on the roof, then they would lose the building. It must have been a sobering site, watching a sea of flames engulf the entire neighbourhood as you stood on a high, fragile roof above it. They had a job to do, and thankfully they succeeded; they shovelled the bombs over the side if they could, and if not, they doused them with water or smothered them in sand. The following day, every building around here had been gutted by fire, but the cathedral was still there. Winston Churchill himself had recognised its symbolism. When he was informed what was going on, his instructions to the fire brigade were simple; save the cathedral at all costs. The rest of the city could burn, but it could not."
"I've seen pictures of the aftermath of that night online," Grace admitted. "It stands there, tall, bruised but whole in a sea of rubble. I can see why it was so important to save it. It was a symbol of Britain, and at the time, one of the tallest buildings in the city, visible from everywhere…." The others nodded, glad they had visited such a magnificent building themselves, but grateful not to have been here on the night when it nearly burnt.
Time was ticking on, and with reluctance they left the cathedral, then headed to the tube station at Blackfriars to take a District Line train to St James Park. A short walk from there took them to within sight of Buckingham Palace. Wes was still with them, and he insisted that instead of heading straight through the park to the gates of the palace, they should instead head north to the road that ran along the top of the park, known as The Mall. None of them argued with him, as there was something in the tone of his voice that made them think that he was aware of something. The moment that they arrived at the roadside, he told them all to look to the right. There, in front of the grand Admiralty Arch, were a group of police outriders in front of a motorcade, heading their way. They all instinctively knew who it had to be, and four phones were swiftly pulled out to film the moment. As the three cars passed, carrying first the Queen and Prince Philip, then Prince Charles and the Duchess of Cornwall, and then finally Princes William and Harry and the Duchess of Cambridge, they kept their phones on, Brittany also managing to wave wildly. She was rewarded with a wave from the Queen, which made her squeal in delight, and made the other three feel kind of special too. After all, there was no crowd around them, so that wave had to have been directed solely at them…
The excitement over, they decided to cross the road and head up Pall Mall to Piccadilly, bringing them out right next to Fortnum and Mason, it's royal warrant clearly on display. Cooper groaned at the prospect of having to walk around yet another shop until Wes pointed out that it sold mainly food, and particularly chocolates. He was the one that then held the door open for the three women, much to their amusement. They could see why the place was so popular though the moment that they stepped into the large space that was filled with confections of all kinds, scented with the smell of freshly roasted coffee and aromatic teas. A few choice purchases were made as they walked around; gifts for others, and treats for themselves. They were all tempted to stop and sample the afternoon tea in the restaurant, but on checking his watch, Cooper reminded them all that they had theatre tickets booked, and dinner to eat prior to that. They settled instead on picking up some tea to enjoy later; Wes pointed out a variety that Michelle was particularly fond of, but found hard to obtain in the States - and expensive when she did come across it. A quantity was thus purchased for her, to be taken back by Cooper and Grace. They parted once more at Piccadilly Circus tube, having made arrangements to meet up for a pre-theatre dinner later.
The Mousetrap was like no other play that any of them had ever seen. Given that it had been written more than sixty years ago, it was a period piece, and the performance was certainly rooted in that time. The programme informed them that as well as being the world's longest running play, it claimed several other theatrical records, all of which was very impressive, even if the record for the longest serving actor was for a voice recording played through a radio. As the show began, Cooper quickly began to realise that he had seen elements of the performance somewhere else before - and it did not take him long to realise where. He turned to Grace, just as she turned towards him, and as he mouthed the words 'the other play!', she nodded in agreement. The show was still very entertaining, and the identity of the murderer, when it was revealed at the end was still a shock to them all, proving that even now, the intricately written plot of the queen of crime, Agatha Christie, could still leave them all guessing until the denouement.
Having promised never to divulge the outcome to anyone else, although as Grace pointed out they could discuss it with the six young men that had seen it two years ago, they headed out into the street once more. They glanced across the road to where The Ivy restaurant was located, wondering if they would glimpse any famous faces as they emerged from the exclusive restaurant, but at that moment, there was no-one around that they recognised. They walked on in the direction of Cooper and Grace's hotel, but passed it intentionally to arrive at Piccadilly Circus once more, now brightly lit up with its advertising signs. Grace had made the excuse that she needed to visit the supermarket that lay just south of the busy road junction, but the fact that it sat right next to the bus stop for the 453 bus that would take the girls back to their hotel was convenient. They had time to pop into the store, and as they did, Cooper spotted a member of staff reducing the price of the cakes that had to be sold that day to ridiculously low prices. As a result they all left with a nice treat to have with their late evening drinks.
The following day, the two couples did not meet up in the morning. Brittany and Santana were heading in the direction of the museums in South Kensington, where they would undertake a whistlestop tour of the highlights, before travelling back into the centre of town to visit the National Gallery. Cooper and Grace meanwhile were heading out to the suburb of Greenwich, travelling on the mainline train, before heading back in to visit Westminster Abbey. They had agreed however to meet up for dinner once more, and this pleased Cooper immensely; it was Curry Night at the pub, and he had every intention of trying a new dish from the menu.
The train out to Greenwich was frequent, and the journey above ground allowed them to see a slice of suburban London which the tube did not. As they glanced out of the window, they were both struck by how some of the scenes they saw could quite as easily have been viewed from the windows of an elevated section of the subway back in New York. They headed first to the Maritime Museum, which they both found fascinating, but not as interesting as the next thing they visited - the Prime Meridian, as the line of Longitude 0º was known. It was strange to stand there astride it, one foot officially in the eastern hemisphere, the other in the western. It was also remarkable to think that this spot marked the last tangible relic of the glory days of the British Empire - the system of time zones that now regulated the world's clocks.
"It's from here that every time in the world is officially governed," remarked Cooper. "To think that it all began because of the necessity to do away with local time as it made it difficult to run the trains…" Grace nodded, although she was pretty certain that there was more to it than that. Still, he did make a very valid point; modern life would be a nightmare if every settlement had its own time. It would make air travel difficult, and she could only imagine the chaos if New York and New Jersey were not in synch.
After the museum, they headed down into the centre of Greenwich, and then on to the Cutty Sark. It was a prime example of the classic tea clippers that had sailed the world in the days before the engine had been common, but had faced tragedy only two years earlier when it had been largely destroyed in a mystery fire. Still, it was now being lovingly restored by the experts. From there, they moved on to the local DLR station, and boarded the driverless train into the centre of the city. They managed to fin two seats right at the front, and it was fascinating to sit where normally only a driver would sit and see the view right out of the cab along the track - and also disconcerting when they would be hurtling along the track and see another stationary train sitting in the station that they were approaching…
If the Docklands Light Railway was the modern age, then Westminster Abbey was pure history. They had joined the queue waiting to enter just as nearby, Big Ben began to strike the hour. The noise it made was so familiar, even if it was only from hearing it on TV reports on New Year's Eve in London, from coming across the BBC World Service as they moved along the radio dial, or in the homes of a few pretentious people with Westminster Chimes doorbells. The traffic in nearby Parliament Square was heavy, and the noise coming from there was at times deafening. Once they stepped inside the Abbey though, there was silence. The roar of life in the modern city was reduced to a dull hum. It was cool and tranquil inside; it was not as bright as St Paul's, but that was more than okay. The building just oozed history in every corner. This was where the most illustrious people of Britain had been buried. It was also the state church, the place were great royal weddings had been celebrated, where funerals were held, and where, one day in their lifetime, another coronation would be held.
"I remember Blaine telling me how he and Nick were dragged out of their beds at 5am one morning at Dalton to watch the footage from here as William and Kate got married," Cooper reminisced. "I never told him at the time, but I might have been watching it too in the early hours of an L.A. morning, in a friend's flat."
"I was sitting on my own in my apartment in Denver; I had just moved in a few weeks before the big day. I remember glancing out of the window and seeing so many lights on at 4am. The whole world was watching to see a fairy tale dream come true…"
"They make a good couple; young and photogenic, but definitely in touch with the people. I think that his grandmother will be quite pleased about that. When the day that they come here, and he is made the King, the whole world will be watching over again, and rejoice in the fact that a sensible man will be in power."
"Oh, I agree. At least with the Queen, the UK has had a head of state that is respected and admired from all over the world. She has ruled wisely, and has devoted her entire life to the service of her people. She rightly deserves the universal respect the world gives to her. I mean, just compare her record to that of the man that we might end up with back home…." said Grace with a shudder.
As had been planned, the two couples met up again for dinner, this time to introduce Brittany and Santana to the joys of the British curry night. Whilst both Grace and Brittany played it safe and stayed with something mild, both Santana and Cooper opted for something with a little more spice. Cooper had also ordered extra side dishes for them all to share, and as a result, when the waiters arrived it was to cover the entire table in their booth with dishes. Grace wondered if they would ever manage to eat it all, convinced that even her brother and his friends would struggle to do so. However, it turned out that it was entirely possible when two people were eating large quantities of naan bread and poppadoms to counteract the spiciness of their meals.
It was still early when they finished their food, and so they took a stroll through the streets that lay between the pub and King's Cross station. To Cooper's horror, the word Primark was spotted; having heard about the firm, but never having visited their store near New York, both Santana and Brittany demanded that they go and check it out. Even Grace went pale as they entered a store that bore a striking resemblance to Macy's on Black Friday. That was until she spotted something that she liked, and then saw the price ticket… In the end, they were only in the store for a little over 30 minutes, but they left laden with bags of shopping; even Cooper had found the men's department, and had suddenly thought how cheap those shirts were… From the store they headed past the British Museum and into the leafy squares of Bloomsbury, there feet bringing them eventually to the station. There, Cooper got minor revenge for the visit to Primark by showing Brittany the way to Platform 9¾. This meant that Santana had to pose for pictures just as Grace had done, shaking her head between the shots. This done, they went their separate ways, but not before Santana had remembered a promise, and had headed into Marks & Spencer to buy up the entire stock of Custard Creams for a meerkat. It was outside the store that they parted, to take different tube lines back to their hotels. They would not meet up the next day, as the two honeymooners had a mid morning train to catch back to Paris, and Cooper had made plans with Grace.
Their European adventure was almost over. As Brittany and Santana went to St Pancras, Cooper and Grace headed to the Imperial War Museum in the morning, then took a train from the nearby Waterloo station to Windsor Castle in the afternoon. This proved a most fascinating excursion. The building itself was steeped in history, having been used by the monarchs of Britain for centuries, but the modern world had placed it immediately under the main flight path for Heathrow Airport, which resulted in the incongruous sight of a jet plane flying low overhead every few minutes. "It is strange really that this is allowed to happen," Grace remarked as yet another one droned above them. "I mean, all of those flights in DC have to turn sharply to avoid flying over the White House, and I am certain that there is a no fly zone over most of central London, and yet it is ok to fly right over the Queen's favourite palace! You couldn't make it up!"
After the castle, they had time to stroll through the historic town at the foot of its ramparts, seeing small groups of dapper boys in blazers every so often; boys on the loose after the school day had come to an end at nearby Eton College. It reminded them both a little of the Warblers; after all, those Dalton boys had often ended up together in coffee shops at the end of a school day.
The train that conveyed them back into the city arrived there just as the rush hour began to bite. Seeing the tidal wave of humanity pouring into the tube made them both abandon it willingly, and instead they caught a bus which took them slowly north over the congested Waterloo Bridge. The pavements were just as busy with a steady stream of pedestrians heading to the station for the journey home. "This bridge is like the 59th Street Bridge back home, in that it has a song about it," remarked Cooper as he glanced out of the window at the grey block buildings of the South Bank. "It's called Waterloo Sunset, and it's all about a young couple watching the sun as the day ends and it slowly sinks in the west…" He stopped as Grace shook her head and blushed, and he realised he had been talking too loud, and the entire bus had heard him. Then someone began to sing the song in question, and gradually more people joined in, until the entire top deck was singing along, including Cooper, leaving Grace mortified, but at the same time, all the more in love with Cooper…
Saturday was their final day in the city, but having visited all of the galleries and museums that they wished to, they decided on a whim to take another day trip out of the city. They ended up taking a train out to the city of Oxford, and spent time strolling round the bustling university city, and even found time for a quick visit to the Ashmolean Museum. The students were largely gone for the summer, but they had been replaced by groups of tourists like themselves, wanting to immerse themselves in the atmosphere of one of the world's oldest seats of learning. They found themselves mingling with local people on afternoon shopping trips, all used by now to the hoards of tourists.
As they walked back to the station, Grace spotted a sight which made her shake her head. It was not something she ever liked to see in a public place; she was of the belief that a couple, if they were going to argue, should do it in the privacy of their own home. What was worse was that as the young woman screamed abuse at him, the young man just stood there, his head bowed, and took it.
If they had not been in such a hurry, or if Cooper had noticed what was going on, then they might have paused.
They might have heard the line "You are not in f***ing Ohio at your stupid Dalton Academy now! I think that I need to remind you of that again, and I am getting so very tired of having to do so! You're in my country now, and so you will live by my rules. You will do what I say, be friends with who I say, and if you ever forget that again - well, you know what the consequences will be from experience…"
Had they stopped, they might have recognised that the sorry looking young man with a cut cheek and a bruised arm was Drew Symons. They might have realised that he was in need of help; and they might have been able to give it to him a lot sooner…