London Love Song

Chapter Two

"Mom, how much further?"

Emma readjusted her grip on her share of the grocery bags and blew a wayward strand of strawberry-blonde hair out of her eyes. "Just a few more blocks, sweetie. We got this! Just like getting to the store and back in New York."

"No it's not," Ashley groaned. "The corner store was closer to our apartment." She groaned as a red double-decker bus vroomed past them. "Why can't we take the bus?"

"We don't know the routes yet. I know the way we walked to Sainsbury's, so I know the way to walk back. I can see Ralston House from here, so we're almost home." Emma said it as much as a pep talk for herself as for her daughter. The last two days had been a non-stop walk from terminal to terminal, bus station to cab depot. If she'd had a charge block at the flat, they could have ordered from one of the takeaway menus. Her legs ached and she'd lost feeling in her toes. The cold bit at her cheeks and burned in her lungs.

Finding the grocery store had been by sheer luck; the directions given to her by the only neighbor to open his door were quickly given and not repeated. On the way, Ashley had marveled at the cars driving on a different side of the road, the buses she'd seen in movies, and the different street signs. None of it held interest for her now that her legs and arms felt about to fall off.

They'd picked up a whole rotisserie chicken, a loaf of garlic bread, and some odds-and-ends for the kitchen and bathroom. The phone charger alone had set her back 30 pounds, which was probably closer to 40 dollars with the current exchange rate. She did a quick round-up in her head. After the plane tickets, the cab fare last night, and this shopping trip... she probably had about two grand left in her account. She still had to get their phones switched over, finish the visa paperwork... She'd need Keith home so he could sign in all the necessary places.

She wanted to save as much money as she could, since she still had to find a job.

Emma had been imagining spending at least two weeks cuddling up to Keith and getting to know him in his home environment. His home environment could be summed up as "barely furnished." And, assuming he had the self-preservation to be home when they got back to the flat, cuddling would be the last thing on her mind until she got a damned good explanation.

The real push came when they got to the stairs. After some huffing and puffing, they reached the summit of the third floor. Emma was sure they made less noise than they had during their initial arrival.

The flat was just way they'd left it. The note she'd folded into a little tent on the kitchen counter was still in the same place. Nothing had been moved.

"Hello?" she said, just in case. "Keith?"

Nobody answered, and that hollow, lurching feeling in her stomach came back with a vengeance.

She set her shoulders, ignored her aching back and legs, and got to the business of getting the phone set up to charge in the living room. Once that was done, she cleaned out the few items in the fridge — she threw the sock away — and sorted the groceries. Ashley had the job of deciding where to unpack everything in her own room. That gave Emma the space she needed to let the angry tears roll down her cheeks in peace. The note went straight in one of the new garbage bags.

Ripping open the package of scrubby sponges she'd bought, Emma went after the counters, then the inside of the microwave. She'd started venting her annoyance on the sink basin when the riotous cacophony of her phone waking up to a million alerts filled the flat. Dings went off, one on top of the other, and the vibrations sent the phone sliding off the arm of the couch onto the carpeted floor.

"Holy crap!" Ashley said, rushing into the room to hover over the phone screen. She watched the notifications as they popped up with widening eyes.

"Voicemail first. Put it on speaker." Emma threw the sponge in the sink and staggered over to collapse on the couch next to Ashley.