“It does sound crazy,” Marje agreed with her, smiling at the unbridled joy in her sister’s eyes. “You don’t need my permission. If you can afford it, go. Then come back and get serious about finding a job and a new guy. Just don’t stay in England, please. I’d miss you too much.”
“I won’t stay. I just want to see where they do the show. I dream about it at night.”
Marje nodded. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”
“I have to go home and pack. Will you check on the house for me?” Marje nodded. It had all happened so suddenly, it didn’t seem real to her yet. But Winnie’s life had fallen apart just as quickly, in the space of an hour, and that didn’t seem real to her yet either. Now she was leaving, and starting to feel in charge again. “I’ll come back and see you tomorrow after I pick up my passport. I have a lot to do before I go.”
By the next day, in her usual competent way, she had everything organized. Her bags were packed, her passport in her purse, her bills were paid, and everything was put away neatly. She felt like herself again, or on the way to it. She had put her Beauchamp DVDs in her suitcase, although she wasn’t sure why, and took a copy of Pride and Prejudice to read on the plane. She was taking mostly jeans and a couple of skirts and casual clothes, hiking boots, a pair of sneakers, one nice dress she was sure she’d never use, just in case, comfortable flat shoes, and a pair of high heels. She was going to wear a coat, since the weather in England was still chilly. She had everything she needed, and she felt ready to go. In her mind, she had already left when she went to Marje’s for dinner that night, and afterwards said goodbye to her, Erik, and Adam and Jimmy.
“Maybe you’ll bring back an English guy!” her brother-in-law teased her. “And don’t forget you have a job with me if you want it when you come home.” Working as an assistant office manager at a plumbing company wasn’t her dream job, but she was grateful for the kindness of his sympathy offer and thanked him.
“Take care of yourself, don’t do anything stupid or crazy,” Marje told her as they hugged for a last time. She felt as though she were sending a child off to school, but Winnie would always be her baby sister, no matter how old she was.
“I promise, I’ll text you. We can FaceTime or Skype.”
“Let me know if you see any big stars on the set,” Marje said, smiling at her. “Take care of yourself, Win. I love you.” Winnie nodded, with tears in her eyes, and then made a dash for her car, sitting in their driveway. She knew that if she stayed a minute longer, she’d be sobbing in her sister’s arms, and she didn’t want anything to stop her from going. Marje was still waving with the brightly lit house behind her, as Winnie drove away. She was back at her own house five minutes later, and saw on her message machine at home that Rob had called again, since she’d blocked him on her cellphone. She erased his message without listening to it, looked around her house, and went upstairs to bed. She had to get up at 5:00 A.M.
* * *
—
Winnie woke up before the alarm went off. It was still dark outside, and there were light snow flurries in the air, although it was May. They often had late snows at that time of year. She had left her bags in the front hall the night before. She had one suitcase, a rolling bag, and a backpack. She was too excited to have breakfast, and called for a taxi to take her to the bus depot, to go to Detroit. She was due to arrive in Detroit at eight-thirty, and would then take another bus to the airport. She had a short hop to Chicago, a brief layover at O’Hare, and then a direct flight to London leaving at 2:00 P.M. That would take eight hours and land her in London at 3:00 A.M. local time. She had booked two nights at a hotel in London she’d found on the Internet, the Westminster Hotel. She was going to spend two days exploring the London sights she had read about for years and never seen. The Tower of London, Buckingham Palace for the Changing of the Guard, the Victoria and Albert Museum, the Tate galleries, Hyde Park, Madame Tussauds wax museum. She wanted to at least have a drink at Rules, the oldest restaurant in London. She had seen it on the show. She wanted to visit everything, and drink it all in, although she hadn’t given herself much time. She was eager to get to Burnham Market, and she could always come back to London if she wanted to, or cover more of the tourist sights on her way home. She had an open ticket for the trip back since she didn’t want to limit her stay in England. She wanted to be there for as long as she was happy, or until her money ran out, but that wasn’t likely to happen for quite a while. She didn’t travel extravagantly, and she had the luxury of time, to go where she pleased and do whatever she wished.
Marje texted her while she was on the runway, as she was about to turn off her phone before they took off on the flight to London. “Have a ball, little sis. Make every minute count. I love you, Marje.” There were tears in Winnie’s eyes when she read it, and she shot back, “I love you too. Be back soon. All my love, Win.” And then she had to turn off her phone. It felt crazy to think that she was thirty-eight years old and had never done anything like this before. The years had sped by her, and suddenly she felt young and free again. She was almost glad that Rob had caused their relationship to end. She would never have had the guts to do it otherwise and their relationship would have dragged on for years. Instead he had shot her out of a cannon with Barb’s help, into the chance to follow her dreams. It wasn’t all bad after all, although it had been a shocking way to get where she wanted to be. But all of that was behind her now. And there were good times ahead, she told herself, as the plane took off.
She slept on the flight and woke up when they announced that they were about to land at Heathrow. There was a light mist when they touched the ground. And she went through customs and immigration easily, managed her own bags, and treated herself to a taxi to her hotel. She texted Marje from the taxi to say she had arrived safely.
They arrived at 4:00 A.M., as she had warned the hotel she would. She had a small plain room overlooking a narrow ugly street in a seemingly safe commercial district, with a lot of shops and restaurants around. It was in the Bayswater section of London, and the price was right. It wouldn’t strain her budget to stay there, and she would be out of her room most of the time anyway. She fell into bed shortly after she got there, and woke up at nine-thirty local time with sunlight streaming through the window. And an hour later, she was outside, with a map she’d gotten at the hotel in her hand, and started on her blitz tour of London. She took double-decker buses, and the Underground, which got her very efficiently to everywhere she wanted to go.
She started at the Tower of London, visiting the dungeons, and saw an amazing exhibit of the queen’s jewels. From there she went to Westminster Abbey to see where kings and queens had been crowned for centuries, and stood at the gates of Buckingham Palace, fascinated by the idea that the Queen of England was somewhere inside. She walked around the Tate Modern for several hours, took a walk in Hyde Park, and got to Rules for a drink as she’d promised herself. And by the time she got back to her hotel, she was exhausted but thrilled by everything she’d seen, and happy she had managed to do so much, moving quickly from place to place. She’d bought some fish and chips on the way back to the hotel, and ate it in her room. Afterwards, she took a bath, went to bed, and passed out almost the minute her head hit the pillow.
The next morning at ten o’clock, she started all over again, and had an equally successful day. She saw Parliament and Trafalgar Square, went to the British Museum, and rode on more double-decker buses. By that night, she had covered all the high points on her list. And she loved watching the people bustling everywhere. She had gone to New York a few times when she was in college, and the electricity and energy of London seemed similar to her, but with a lot more history at hand. People were busy, rushing, and she was mesmerized by all of it. She felt alive just being there. But she was looking forward to the peaceful atmosphere of the country village she was going to, the quaint surroundings, the elegance of the castle, and the exciteme
nt of the show. She could hardly wait.
She was up at six o’clock on her third morning in London. She got a cab to King’s Cross Station at seven, and had breakfast. It didn’t bother her at all to be traveling alone. The whole experience was an adventure, and she had managed London without a problem, despite noise, people rushing around her, cars on the wrong side of the road, and an unfamiliar city.
Burnham Market was going to be a great deal easier. The train left at eight-thirty, and the trip would take two hours through the British countryside to the town of King’s Lynn. It looked beautiful and peaceful as she watched it drift by, and once they were well out of London, she saw cows and sheep, farms, rolling hills, and the brilliant green of new grass. Her heart pounded for a minute as they entered the station. Winnie had been told that the original King’s Lynn station had been closed since the 1950s and housed an antique store now and some other shops. It was used in the series, and she wanted to visit it while she was there.
For an instant, she had an odd feeling that she had been here before and she was coming home. She was smiling when she got off the train, and the stationmaster touched his hat and smiled back.
There was an elderly man in a tweed cap standing next to a battered taxi, and Winnie walked over to him with her bags. She had taken a chance on her accommodations and wanted to check out the options when she arrived. She had read on the Internet that the best hotel in town was The Hoste, a fairly fancy inn on the green, but for the sake of her budget and local charm, she wanted to stay at a simple B and B. The cab driver agreed to take her to Burnham Market, which he said was thirty minutes away. Once in the car with him, she asked him politely, as they drove past farms and the lush green countryside, “Could you suggest a good B and B where I could stay, close to the center of town?”
“So you can see them film the show?” He smiled. He’d had lots of requests like this in the last six years, and he’d even driven many of the actors from time to time.
“Yes, I guess that’s right,” she admitted, looking a little sheepish. She felt like a combination groupie/tourist, and in fact she was both, although she hadn’t thought of it that way before.
“I know just the place. Prudence Flannagan, you’ll love it.” Half an hour later, after seeing cows and pigs and horses along their route on a narrow country road, she saw the village up ahead. There were charming cottages and stone houses, with rose gardens in front and picket fences. And in the distance, but not too far away, she saw Haversham Castle in all its dignified nobility, and she recognized it immediately. “You know what that is, of course.” The driver smiled at her in the rearview mirror and she smiled and nodded. “The Marquess of Haversham and his sister, Lady Beatrice, still live there. They’re nice people, a little odd like all of their kind, but the show saved them. They were about to lose the castle, couldn’t afford to keep it, but the show changed all that. They must be rolling in money now, for what they get paid to let it to the show. The Havershams are good to the people of the village, though. My grandfather was one of their great-grandfather’s tenant farmers. He always spoke well of the family. Everything’s changed, of course, since then. But the show reminds everyone of how it used to be. We like that around here, and the show gives lots of jobs to the locals. It’s been good for all of us. It brings people like you here, aside from summer visitors.” He smiled broadly as he stopped the car in front of a neat stone cottage that looked like something in a fairy tale, with crisp white curtains in the windows. “There’s Prudence now,” he said, as a small round woman stepped out into the road, and wiped her hands on her apron. She looked like the fairy godmother in Cinderella, and she smiled at the driver who had brought Winnie to her.
“Morning, Josiah. Fine weather.”
“Indeed it is.” He turned to indicate Winnie as she got out of the cab. “I brought you a guest from America. She’s here to watch the show.” Prudence Flannagan smiled at the mention of it, and looked warmly at Winnie.
“Welcome, come in and take a look around and see if it suits you.” Winnie stepped into the cottage as Josiah unloaded her bags and left them standing outside, as he waited to be paid. There was a delicious smell of fresh bread in the oven, and something bubbling on the stove that looked like stew as she walked through the kitchen. There was a cozy front parlor, a small dining room, and a back garden. The ceilings were low, and the staircase old-fashioned, she noticed as she went upstairs to view the three bedrooms reserved for guests, in addition to Prudence’s. All three bedrooms were small and cheery, with flowered chintzes at the windows and on the beds that Prudence had made herself. Two of the rooms shared a bath, and one had its own, and all three were vacant at the moment.
“You can have your pick,” she said cheerfully, as Winnie went from room to room. “I imagine you’ll want your own bath. Americans always do.” Winnie nodded agreement, and was delighted with the accommodations. “You can do whatever you like, except smoke in the rooms. But you can smoke in the garden. Breakfast is included in the price of the room, and I serve dinner every night if you want it, for a small extra fee. I can give you a better rate week by week or month by month, if you decide to stay. Most people do if they can, once they get here. I’ll do laundry for you if you like, at no extra charge. It’s no trouble. I have to do it for the house anyway.”
It was an ideal situation, and Winnie asked for the room with its own bath. She could see the town square and Haversham Castle from her window, and the price was ridiculously low. A week’s rent was barely more than the price of a good dinner at home. Prudence Flannagan wasn’t taking advantage of the tourists brought in by the show. She said she got plenty of business, and the house was full most of the time. All three guests had just left the day before, and she had three more arriving that week, one from Italy and two from Germany. The show was aired all over Europe, and popular in every country where it was shown.
Josiah brought Winnie’s bags upstairs for her, and she tipped him handsomely for his kindness and for bringing her to Mrs. Flannagan’s B and B. She felt as though she were visiting an aunt, or someone’s grandmother. And it occurred to her that her mother would have loved this. It was so perfectly English, and old-fashioned and cozy. She couldn’t imagine being lonely here.
She unpacked in her room, and came down a short time later, as Mrs. Flannagan took her freshly baked bread out of the oven, and there was a plate of scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam sitting on the table.
“Help yourself, dear,” she said with a wink at Winnie. “You’ll be doing me a favor if you do. If you don’t eat them, I will.” She patted her hips as she said it. Winnie put a scone on a plate with the clotted cream and jam and the first bite melted in her mouth.
“Oh, that’s delicious,” Winnie said, smiling.
“Thank you. If you want to watch them filming, they shoot outdoors most mornings, and at the end of the day. They do the studio shots indoors in the middle of the day and at night.”
“I’d like to watch them film outside,” Winnie said hopefully.
“Of course. They’re very friendly and congenial about it. They don’t seem to mind at all, you have to stand behind barriers they set up, but they let people get very close. You have to stay quiet, though.”
“I’m addicted to the show,” Winnie confessed, as she finished the scone and helped herself to another.
“We all are, the whole world is. People come from all over to see it. No one knew we were here until the show came on. You should take a tour of Haversham Castle too. There are parts they don’t use for the show, and they’ll take you through them. And then there are the family quarters. There are only two of them now. His Lordship the Marquess, and his sister. Their parents died quite a long time ago. The marquess inherited his title and the estate when he was barely twenty, and his sister is a year or two younger. That was more than twenty years ago now.” Listening to her was like watching the show, an
d Winnie loved it. “They haven’t changed much in the castle. They couldn’t afford to. They have titles and a beautiful castle, but had no money to maintain it. The show changed all that, and now the producers don’t want them to modernize anything. It works for the show as it is.”
She seemed to know all about it, and Winnie set out on foot a few minutes later, to explore the village. She walked around the village green, soaking up the sunshine, and walked into the little shops. There were several pubs that she didn’t venture into, and the restaurants in town were supposed to be excellent. She was on her way back to the cottage several hours later, when she saw cameras on rolling platforms appear, barriers set up, a cluster of people in period costumes, makeup artists and hairdressers and a flock of assistants, and she realized they were going to start filming. She stood under a tree, behind the barrier, and watched them for two hours. This was what she had come for, and as they put tape on the ground to mark where the actors would stand, she saw the two stars walking toward her, talking seriously, and then repeating it again and again. The actress was wearing a beautiful hat and an embroidered Chinese coat of the period, and the actor looked dashing. Winnie’s heart pounded as she watched them, and there was silence all around. Then the whole group walked back to the castle after the scene was shot, and the two stars were talking and laughing and looked like they were teasing each other. She swatted him with her elegant hat, and they waved at their fans as they walked by, while the locals cheered them. They were gone in a minute and Winnie looked awestruck as she walked into Mrs. Flannagan’s kitchen.
Beauchamp Hall Page 7
