* * *
Sam walked home with mixed emotions, the mix including sadness, regret and guilt.
He had slept through his alarm that morning and had been late to school, thus missing his meeting with Josie in the Library. He felt terribly guilty about that and had decided he would find her and apologize, and then promise to make it up to her.
Even though they had only spoken once, Sam knew she was the kind of girl who might be upset by his non-appearance, not in the way some girls get upset because their pride has been hurt, because Sam was sure Josie had no improper pride, but upset that Sam's failure to arrive might have been a reflection on her character, which it most certainly was not.
He could imagine quite clearly in his mind those hypnotic blue eyes filled with sadness, and it hit him like a hammer to the heart. Sam still could not quite comprehend as to why he felt so strongly in regards to this girl. He barely knew her and it wasn't like he was attracted to her, or that he was over compassionate in general, he just couldn't bear the thought of hurting her.
He had kept his eyes open for her all day at school, prowling the halls at lunchtime in the hope of bumping in to her.
He thought he'd seen her by the lockers at one point, through a crowd of girls he could have sworn his eyes met with hers, however when the crowd dissipated the girl who stood there looked nothing like Josie, she had blonde curly hair and, much as he hated to say it, she was a little too glamorous to be Josie.
In fact, if Sam was ever to judge anyone by the way they looked alone, that girl would have been pretty close to his ideal. She wasn't stick thin; her soft curves exuded a warmth and gentleness that was supremely feminine and attractive. However, she had looked away when Sam got closer and so he took the hint and decided not to talk to her, despite the fact every bone in his body was telling him he should.
Sam's hunt for Josie had been fruitless that day, he wished he could have found her to apologize, but she had been nowhere to find, and so he decided he would try a little harder the next day.
* * *
Josie's plan to avoid Sam Coulson for the rest of the semester worked well. She busied herself in study rooms with books every day at lunch instead of the library, as she often saw Sam sitting in there, she didn't even go to the Senior prom. She hadn't particularly wanted to anyway as she knew it would only be another chance for Chrissi and her gang to further humiliate her. Instead she went to the old film house and watched 'Gone With The Wind'. On the last day of school, Josie didn't even bother to hang around afterwards for the traditional festivities. She went straight home and started to pack. She was going to Northwestern in the fall and before then she was going to visit her mother's younger sister and her husband in England for a couple of months.
* * *
Sam was not sad about the end of school. He barely knew anyone there, he'd been there for a little over two months and the people who had tried to befriend him were not exactly his type. Because of his natural good looks Sam was always targeted by the popular crowd to be one of 'them', however Sam had learned from his one and only experience of such a friendship, that everything about those kind of people was shallow, selfish and insincere. All too often Sam himself had been labeled with those insults simply because he was handsome, something Sam had never really grasped as he was so unaware of his positive physical attributes.
So, Sam had spent two months alone, lurking in the library catching up on his reading. He had hoped at the start of the two months that a girl, Josie Geller, would be his friend, but it seemed she had disappeared off the face of the planet. He had looked all over school for her for two weeks when he decided that she obviously didn't want to be found and gave up.
He had also hoped to see more of the pretty girl he had seen in the halls one day, the one with the golden curly hair and the soft feminine body. He had seen her quite a few times around school but every time he got anywhere near her, she would disappear. For a while, Sam had worried that maybe he had bad body odor or something since the only two girls he tried to talk to ran away from him.
And now school was finished and he was focusing on going to Yale in the fall. He was going to travel around Europe over summer. He had friends and relatives in England, France and Spain and he was keen to see them all, and also to forget about his miserable two months in Chicago.
* * *
Josie's relatives lived in Kensington, the upmarket end of London. Her Uncle Jack was something big in the financial world and her Aunt Katie was an account executive for JWT, a large UK advertising agency. They owned a smart, spacious London townhouse, not two minutes walk from Kensington Palace, part time home to the Prince and Princess of Wales.
The minute Josie arrived she was taken aback with the beauty of the area. Kensington Gardens formed one end of Hyde Park and was situated in the middle of a busy cosmopolitan shopping area full of designer shops and chic little cafes and bars. Her uncle and aunt's house itself looked like something straight from the pages of one of those interior design magazines.
Every detail of their house was beautifully styled and each room complimented every other one perfectly. The theme was very classic and traditional, Jack and Katie not wanting to get caught up in current trends and fashions that would mean they had to redecorate every couple of years. The 'sitting room,' as they called it, was a large spacious room with a glass brick partition adjoining it to the dining room. The sofas and easy chairs were large and squishy, upholstered in a gorgeous cream linen effect material. A large cream shaggy rug adorned the beautifully glossy polished wood floors, lying immediately before the large, real open wood fireplace. But Josie's favorite part of the room was the endless rows of bookshelves and the huge, commanding mahogany bookcase, stuffed with all the classics, all beautifully bound.
As soon as she arrived she resolved that she would have read at least a third of them by the time she left, an ambitious target considering in total there were in excess of 100 large books in the case. Josie was staying in the 'proper' spare room, as Katie liked to call it. They had four bedrooms, Katie and Jack's, the nursery (Katie was 6 months pregnant with their first child), which was in the throes of decorating, the 'proper' spare room, and the spare room cum junk room.
It was hard to believe looking at their house that there would be a messy room, but in the grand tradition of all family households, the second spare room was predominantly filled with boxes, files, cans of paint for the nursery and lurking under it all in the corner, a bed.
In contrast, the 'proper' spare room was beautiful. It was large and airy, pale yellow was the theme, with soft yellow drape style curtains and a large double bed flooded with large squishy cushions. The large window led out on to a small balcony, just big enough to squeeze a chair on to, as Josie often did while she was there. The balcony faced out towards the park and Kensington Palace and Josie loved to take a book up there in the late afternoon and intersperse reading with people watching and admiring the sunsets which were invariably stunning, this being a rare proper English Summer.
Katie was planning on a long maternity leave, however she was still working at that point, and while she and Jack were at work, Josie helped out by painting the nursery.
Josie was not the greatest artist in the world, however she was immensely proud of the airplanes, hot air balloons and bumble bees she had painted around the top of the walls. Jack was in charge of painting the landscape below, a beautiful Monet-esque scene of people picnicking by a river, which ran round the entire room.
All in all, Josie was thoroughly enjoying her time in London. She had never been there previously and when she wasn't painting, reading, or preparing food for Jack and Katie when they got home, she enjoyed nothing better than strolling around Kensington, ambling in and out of all the old book shops, stopping in the designer caf�'s for a Latte, or even clothes shopping in fashionable London stores.
It seemed her aunt's effortless style was rubbing off on Josie, and Katie's immeasurable generosity meant that she delighted in seeing her favorite niece come home laden with shopping bags. Katie was not trying to make Josie change; she would have been perfectly happy if Josie had preferred to stay as she was, but Katie sensed that Josie wanted to change, for herself and no-one else, and so she merely steered her in the right direction and ensured she had enough money. As a result, in the month Josie had been there, she had become a full-fledged London woman of style.
Having recently celebrated her 18th birthday, often in the evening Katie and Jack would take her out to classy wine bars, the kind where Josie, on a number of occasions, saw (mainly British) stars relaxing with a drink.
Josie knew she was very fortunate to have such a kind uncle and aunt, especially ones who were also affluent socialites, and though when she first arrived she had been in awe of their lifestyle, she soon felt herself become accustomed to the fancy restaurants and high-profile friends and she knew that upon her return to America to live as a student for four years, it might seem a little anti-climatic on the social scale. But still, Josie was not one to be affected overmuch by the shallower aspects of affluent life. It simply afforded her the opportunity to gain a sense of self-confidence she had previously lacked. After all, if the classy socialite set of London accepted her with open arms, then who back home could ever make her feel clumsy and awkward again?
However Josie knew herself well. Underneath the new clothes and the sophisticated manner and the bravado, she was still just Josie Geller, Little Girl Lost. She knew her world here was far different to that which it was back in America. As much as she wanted to believe to the contrary, she had no doubt in her mind that upon her return, she would most likely lose her newfound confidence and would return to being the outcast, the loser.
"Oh Josie!" exclaimed Katie one Thursday evening after dinner, "that was simply delicious!"
Josie enjoyed cooking for Katie and Jack. It was the least she could do for them after they had been so kind to her. That night she had cooked up a favorite of hers that her mother often cooked on special occasions: Salad Nicoise with peppered Tuna Steaks. For tonight was indeed a special occasion, it was Jack's 35th birthday.
"Josie, I'm afraid we might not be able to let you go back to Chicago next month! I really could get used to having a cook around the place!" Jack said with a grin as he leant back in his chair, rubbing his stomach appreciatively.
"Oh! That's fine by me, but I have to warn you now, I'm starting to run short on the creative ideas. If you keep me, it will just be Spaghetti Bolognese every night for the rest of your life!" Josie replied laughing.
"Hmm, well in that case� When are you leaving?!" Jack retorted in jest.
They all laughed.
"But seriously, I'm going to miss you when you leave, Josie. It's been so nice having you here. We so very rarely see you, what with Janet being afraid of airplanes and all�" Katie said smiling. Josie's mom wasn't particularly fond of flying and had only been to visit Katie and Jack once when Josie was 11. They themselves also found visiting hard as their jobs were so demanding, and so their relationship had revolved mainly around the weekly phone calls that tradition maintained.
"I do wish you could stay a little longer, but I know, fame and fortune awaits you at Northwestern. It's such a shame you wont be here to meet whoever it is that keeps kicking me when they decide to arrive." Katie finished resting a hand on her rather large bump.
Josie smiled. "I'm so glad you've put up with me for this long! I've had, or rather still am having, a wonderful time. You really are too kind." She directed that comment at both of them.
"Oh dear, if I was American, I would suggest a group hug, but I'm not and besides, I'm too full to move, so instead I propose we have a toast instead." Jack answered picking up the bottle of wine and pouring into his and Josie's glass, giving Katie apple juice instead. "To us, may we all continue to have a blissful summer, may Josie continue to cook bloody gorgeous meals and may "Bump" stop inflicting pain on my beautiful wife." Jack said, raising his glass.
"To us!" Katie and Josie chorused as the clinked glasses.
"Right. Before we clear the table, I have an idea for you Josie." Katie said, "As Jack and I are swanning off tomorrow for a lovey-dovey birthday day out, I thought I would arrange a little entertainment for you."
Josie raised her brow in surprise, she had been planning on a lazy day at the house, putting finishing touches on the nursery and catching up on her reading, but this sounded a little more interesting.
"You see I realized you actually haven't done any proper sightseeing yet, and I believe that is imperative to your stay. We're about to enter the 1990's and I think you should see London before it becomes techno-bedlam. What I have arranged, subject to your approval of course, is this: in the morning I thought you might like to visit St. Paul's Cathedral, which in turn will lead you to Trafalgar Square, which will be gorgeous at this time of year. Then there's the visitors gallery at the Houses of Parliament, you can go and heckle old Maggie for me! Then I strongly recommend you take a walk down the South Bank before the sun goes down, the way the sun hits the Thames and Big Ben is really quite beautiful. And finally, as the piece de resistance I have reserved a ticket for you at the National Theatre to see what I hear is a superb version of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. How does that all sound?"
Katie looked at Josie hopefully, she expected a smile, a thank you, but what she got superseded that. Josie's eyes were brimming with tears; she was deeply touched by her aunt's insight and kindness. A chance to see Shakespeare in London! At the National Theatre! That was practically as good as going to the Globe (which she had heard was possibly going to be rebuilt on the Southbank, but not for a good few years yet.)
"Oh Katie! Jack! Thank you so much! It sounds wonderful�I can't believe it! Thank you!!!" Josie gushed in a choked voice.
"Whoa! Katie, what have you done to her? Blimey, you Americans! All these emotional outbursts!!" Jack said jokingly.
Katie shot him a withering glance but then turned to smile at Josie. "I take it you approve then?"
Josie didn't want to speak again for fear of bursting into tears and so answered by going over to between where Katie and Jack sat and hugging them both simultaneously.
* * *
Sam's adventures around Europe had been quite amazing.
In Spain he'd stayed in Mijas, a small mountain town not one hour away from the bustling city of Malaga on the South coast with his old best friend Eduardo, who had left America when he was 11. Together they'd traveled around visiting resorts along the Costa del Sol, Gibraltar and many of the inland mountain villages. Eduardo and Sam were kindred spirits in many ways. They were both intelligent mature young men who did not find the Tapas bars in Malaga that teemed with young drunk people particularly appealing. They preferred to sit outside the old village bars chatting to locals and appreciating the rustic beauty of Spain's forgotten villages.
Sam had then journeyed on to Paris, to stay with his uncle in the area of Chaillot, on the opposite side of the river to the Eiffel Tower, which at sunset and sunrise, created a magnificent silhouette. Sam's uncle was an extremely busy man. He worked in politics, thus meaning he was not really available to chaperone Sam around the city. He was, however a kind man, and each evening he advised Sam on what to do the next day. And so Sam toured the city of Paris independently. He gazed upon the stunning works of art in the Louvre, admired the architectural beauty of the Pompidou Centre and wandered the Champs-Elysees devouring the Grand and Petit Palais, and the superb Arc de Triomphe. Then, in the evenings he would be accompanied by his uncle to tourist haunts such as the Moulin Rouge in Montmartre, and to little known local's favorites all over the city.
His final three weeks were to be spent in London with another friend, his old next-door neighbor Peter Sullivan, a native Brit who had only lived in America for a year with his mother, before he realized he missed 'home' too much and decided to return to stay with his dad.
He and Sam were as different as night and day in many respects. For starters, Peter was nearly two years older than Sam. However they did have one shared interest: hockey; so despite all their other differences they still got along very well.
Peter lived with his father and stepmother in Finsbury, in the North of London. Their apartment was on the small side, but it was extremely homey, and Sam found the family's attitude very welcoming.
After traveling around Spain and France for a month and a half, Sam's skin had turned a very becoming golden brown. He had anticipated that he might look out of place in London where he expected it would probably rain the entire time. He was surprised however, upon arrival to see the sun out, and beating down ferociously upon the thousands of heads marching the streets of the city.
Before he even reached Peter's home, he was whisked off to see Buckingham Palace and around Trafalgar Square before finally being taken home to eat and rest.
Peter's parents co-owned a busy Caf� in the local area and worked odd hours. Sometimes they were in in the afternoon, sometimes not returning until way after dark. This did not bother Peter and Sam too much. Peter ensured Sam was kept busy sightseeing and meeting his friends.
Peter's friends were an eclectic bunch, Sam decided, but altogether quite nice. They were predominantly female, but then Peter had always been a bit of a ladies man. Some of them were irritatingly ditzy; others were serious and intelligent. However no matter which category they fell into, it seemed they all had one shared interest: Sam.
But in typical Sam fashion, as Peter pointed out one night, Sam hadn't even noticed the excess attention he was receiving. Sam shrugged this comment off with a grin and replied that he wouldn't dare take the focus off Pete for one minute.
In truth, though, Sam just wasn't interested. True, all the girls were very pretty, and a few were also clever and funny, however Sam hadn't really been interested in dating since he had been slighted by two in the last few weeks of school. Call it insecurity, but Sam just didn't want to deal with being blown off again.
"Right Sammy Boy, we've done the bars, we've done the clubs, we've done the art, dah-ling�What do you want to do tomorrow?" Peter asked on one Thursday evening.
Sam flopped back into his comfy chair in Pete's front room and sighed. "God Pete! I'm the guest! You're making me decide? What do I know about London?" he joked.
"Hey, I've been dragging you around for the past fortnight, you must have picked up a little London intuition. Surely you can decide just for one evening?" Peter responded, throwing a cushion at Sam.
"Okay, okay. To be honest, there is one thing I'd like to do while I'm here."
"Ooh, an idea! Lets hear it then, and if it's hiring some female company I know just the girls�" Peter said smiling wickedly.
"Ha, ha Pete, right; maybe afterwards. No really� What I would like to do, what I have dreamt of doing for a couple of years is going to see a real English Shakespeare production in a real English Theatre. Does that sound boring?"
Pete grinned, "I'm so glad to see you haven't changed. Well, let me think, the most English Theatre I can think of is the National, and I'm pretty sure they're running a season of Shakespeare's work this summer. Let me go and get Time Out."
Peter returned a moment later with the magazine, reading as he sat down. "Aha! You are in luck, Samuel. Tomorrow night, 'Twelfth Night'. Supposed to be one of the best versions seen for a long time. How about that? I can get Dad to book it on his credit card."
Sam smiled broadly. Twelfth Night was one of Shakespeare's best works, in his opinion, and he'd yet to see it performed. "That sounds great! If we can get tickets..."
"Lets hope so, otherwise it'll be another night in in front of Eastenders." Peter replied, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.
* * *