The Diary of Rebecca Elizabeth London (on hold)

13

March 16

As we exited the plane, we still had no idea where we were. I looked out a window in the airport and I almost fainted. "James!"

"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked, rushing over to me.

"Nothing's wrong," I said. "Do you know where we are?"

"No... But by that look you're giving me, I'm guessing that you do?"

"Yes. Yes, I know where we are." I paused, wanting to enjoy the suspense. James ruined it by guessing correctly.

"We're in London, aren't we?" he asked.

"How did you know that?" I asked.

"I don't know of any other place that could make you this excited."

"True. Well, let's get going! There are so many wonderful places I want to show you!" I said, pulling him along with me out the doors, and into the blisteringly cold city.

"Where to?" he asked me.

"We should probably find our hotel and drop our things off first, so we don't have to carry them around the whole city."

We did exactly that. Our room was very nice and the view from the window was breath-taking. It overlooked a park. On the pond were people ice skating. "That looks like fun," James commented.

"Have you ever been ice skating?" I asked.

"Ice skating? In Alabama?"

"Okay, I see your point. Come on, I'll teach you."

We rented skates from a booth nearby, and I effortlessly skated around the pond once, showing off a bit. "Okay, now this is a little hard at first, but you'll get used to it," I said. "Give me your arm."

He held his arm out to me and I rested hand on it. He started out a little shakily, but he was catching on. Somewhat. With him leading, we took a turn a little too fast and came crashing hard onto the ice...which quickly cracked. Before I fully knew what was happening, I was under water so cold that it felt like thousands of knives cutting into my skin. I struggled to make my way to the surface, but I finally made it.

As I caught my breath, I looked around me. Everyone in the park was coming closer to try to help me. The closest man tried to pull me out. "Wait!" I said. "Where's James?" No one knew where he was, which meant that he was still under the water. I dove back in, thanking God that I knew how to swim.

I saw him kicking around near the bottom, but he wasn't getting anywhere. I swam faster to him, and grabbed his arm. I pulled him up to the surface with me. The man who tried to pull me out before tried again. "No!" I said. "Help him first."

The man did as I said. It wasn't hard to pull both of us out, because we broke through the surface just inches from the edge of the pond. I hugged James tightly, tears rolling down my cheeks. I could not believe that I almost lost him.

Newspaper reporters started snapping pictures, and talking all at once, trying to get us to answer questions, while someone else draped blankets around us. "Miss London, are you okay?" "What are you doing back in London?" "Who is this with you?" "How does it feel to save someone's life?"

"Please leave us alone," I said, pushing past them. "It's cold out here. We need to get inside."

The hotel lobby was a safe haven, both from the reporters, and from the wind. "Oh, dear! Are you okay?" the manager asked.

"We're fine," I said. Then I looked at James, who was almost a shade of blue, and who had still not said anything. "I think. Thank you."

We went up to our room and I told him to take a shower to warm up. For the first time in a long time, he spoke. "What about you?" he asked.