"Fasten your seatbelts for landing," the recorded voice announced, as the jet circled London in preparation for landing at Heathrow. Viv could see the Eye, the Thames, what might have been Big Ben's tower as the jet dropped lower and lower.

London at last. After all these years, I am here and I can see the places Pop wrote about in his war diary. I can visit the places Joan went her semester abroad here. I'm here at last, at last, at last! Buzzing with excitement, Viv checked her seatbelt and looked out the window as the jet descended. A flight attendant marched up and down the aisle, checking seatbelts were fastened.

The jet leveled; the wheels touched the tarmac and the rush of air was met with the whine of wheels on the runway. The pilot steered the big jet to the terminal. The jet was locked into place, and attendants ushered the passengers off and into Jolly Old England and Viv's jolly Old summer began.

Viv, sitting in the back of the jet, was one of the last passengers to disembark. She collected her suitcase from the bin and her backpack. She'd packed lightly although she planned to stay seven weeks. Shopping as needed was in order. Viv wanted to add theater and acting to her teaching license, and, after several years of scrimping, had enough money to take classes at Chesterton University for the summer. Her season, as Regency novels called the time when unmarried girls were shopped around to find a husband. She was here to attend college, not find a husband. She meant to make the most of her season.

She rolled her case down the aisle, said goodbye to the attendants at the door and rushed through the terminal, eager to be out in England. My feet might set off sparks, I'm in such a rush. After a long time she was through Customs, free to go to London and then anywhere in the British Isles. She also had a visa for Paris. A weekend there was Number 3 on her bucket list.

Cabs, busses, and vans were waiting for passengers at Departures. She'd found and booked an economical room for rent in a house a few miles from the City Center, but with good transportation anywhere, the landlady promised. A cab to her place would be wildly expensive, but her landlady, Mrs. Brownley, had given her directions to take a train and be met in Chesterton. Per Mrs. Brownley's instructions, she called and left a message she had arrived.

Viv learned about Mrs. Brownley's room for rent through a friend of a fellow teacher at Morris Heights High School. Percy Greene was a Canadian who had worked as a copywriter in London. He married an American and moved to Morris Heights, NJ.

Percy knew the Brownleys. Mrs. Brownley lived in the small suburb of Chesterton outside of London. Hedda Brownley worked in film and theater and liked renting to students. Viv jumped at the opportunity to find a quiet, secure, inexpensive place. Her weekly rent included breakfast, afternoon tea, and kitchen privileges. Her room had two single beds (no overnight guests), a private bathroom, and she could have paid for street parking. The better rate allowed her to afford an extra, free week in London and that trip to Paris.

Another hour later she got off the train at Coburg Station in Chesterton. She recognized Mrs. Brownley from her picture, a plump, elderly widow in slacks and a blazer, smiling cheerfully and waving. She provided pickup at the station, as promised. Viv waved back and walked over to meet her.

"Hullo, luv," Mrs. Brownley, said, shaking hands. "Pleased to meet you. Call me Hedda. Did you have a good trip?"

"Oh, yes, Mrs. Bro—Hedda, everything went smooth, no delays. I'm so pleased to meet you, at last." Viv thought she must be setting off sparks.

"My car's here," Hedda said. "I'll get you home. You can rest a bit and have tea. Tomorrow I'll give you instructions to find your way around."

The house was on Kenley Street, two blocks from the station. Hedda parked in her garage, and showed Viv to her room. Viv unpacked, washed up, and joined Mrs. Brownley in the kitchen. A large tea was set on the table, including sandwiches, cakes, quiche, tea and coffee. It was enough to make a light dinner, which Hedda understood would help students save money on meals.

Mrs. Brownley's small, one-story house had three bedrooms, a garage, a tabby cat, a fenced in back yard with patio, and was on a large corner lot. She chattered on, saying she rented out her third bedroom after her husband died, for extra money, and she enjoyed the company. Mr. Brownley had been a theater carpenter, and Hedda Brownley had worked as a character actress in theater and TV till her marriage, then, wanting a steadier income, worked as a seamstress and wardrobe mistress.

New Jersey was four hours earlier than London (DST), but Viv had gotten up at 2 AM to catch the plane. She'd be ready for bed soon. Mrs. Brownley poured tea, added sugar and cream and handed it to Viv. "Just as you like it. Viv sipped the most delicious tea she'd ever had as she ate sandwiches. Lunch on the plane had been hours ago.

"Thank you, Mrs. Brownley, this tea is delicious. Salmon sandwiches." Mrs. Brownley nodded. "And the cake. I've never had one like it."

"It's Victoria Sponge, made with apricot instead of raspberry. One of my best. Easy to make. I'll show you, if you like. You can make it back home."

"I'd like that. I don't bake much, but I wish I did. My great-grandfather, Pop, was a baker in New York City. My grandmother baked some of his recipes, and I wish I could make them. None of my aunts wanted to bake, and Gram didn't want to bother much. I've got some of her recipes."

They chatted for nearly an hour. Hedda told Viv a great deal about the school she was going to, and the local theater and film community. Viv helped her wash up. Exhaustion suddenly overtook her, and she fought back a yawn.

Hedda noticed, and said, "Perhaps you should go to bed. Jet lag, and all that. You'll want to be rested for tomorrow." Viv nodded, appreciating her understanding, and went to her room.

She showered, went to her room and flopped in bed. Her charm bracelet poked into her side. She took it off, examining the many silver and gold charms she had collected over the years. She'd get one from London to add to her collection. She placed the bracelet on the nightstand. She looked around her home for the next seven weeks. Green wall, sprigged curtains, a cottage garden outside the windows. So very English, and Chesterton was only a few train stops from London. She yawned, turned off the bedside lamp, and closed her eyes. Her first day in England.