Falling for London
Page 36
Awards were handed out for each level. Addie, she of the remarkable reading ability, was given a citation.
Then the girls gathered at the front for one final rendition of the “Royal School Song.” Here is where I lost it. It was a gentle, traditional lilt, made all the more touching by the voices of little girls.
Up on the hills of Hampstead
Our school awaits each day.
The sun rising on the hill and heath
And the girls who make their way.
London awaits before us
And enriches all our schemes.
At home on the hill girls from round the world
Work together to find their dreams.
My little girl, now seven, was transformed in the nine months since she had arrived. On her first day, she was weeping and inconsolable. On her second week, she wailed that her life was ruined because she could not navigate the exotic food choices at the cafeteria. But over the course of the school year, with the help of wonderful teachers, staff, and classmates, Julia adapted, grew, and, on this final day, triumphantly prevailed.
On her own initiative she wrote an extra line to conclude the “Royal Song,” which our extraordinary daughter now stepped forward and delivered with assured conviction:
There will never be a school as great as you!
I swallowed hard.
Ceremonies concluded, there was a luncheon for all. Julia, such a poised performer, was now gushing tears — not because of the passing of the Royal but because Addie had been awarded a prize and not her.
“How could she do that to me?” she sniffled. I tried in vain to argue that she had been honoured with a solo line in the singing of the song, but it took some time for her to calm down.
I took her into the kitchen, determined to have a picture with the heroic Christine, who took her into her fleshy arms for an embrace that was true and lasting. Then the girls in Julia’s class gathered around Miss Eisele for a group hug and photo.
Although the lunch was done and our belongings gathered up, we lingered in the yard with our friends.
“I don’t want it to end,” said Isabella, she who had been so traumatized when I was appointed to the London job. She pressed her body close and we slipped our arms around each other’s waists. I owed her. Big time. My Foreign Correspondent adventure was a massive sacrifice for her, but she adapted, carved out her own way, and made our journey immeasurably richer. She did not want London, but London won her over.
Little Celia, younger sister of Addie, took matters into her own hands. She led several people to the front of the seating area in the tent and told us to take a chair. There would be one more show. She figured out how to turn on the electric piano and started to tap out “Jingle Bells.”
Teachers and parents filtered back into the tent and before long everyone was belting out Christmas carols in the June heat and dancing with abandon.
Finally the party petered out, with final hugs and goodbyes. It was time.
I searched for Julia and found her with her pals Addie and Zoë off in a corner of the yard. The JAZ club. Addie’s mom, Carolyn, was with them and as I approached I could hear that they were trying to figure out a way of writing their initials on a wall.
Carolyn gently advised them that “writing in blood is not a great idea.”
My eyes widened. Seven-year-old girls from Toronto, New Jersey, and Calgary had become blood sisters mere months after meeting in London.
I grabbed a small, sharp stone and suggested that it would work well as an instrument for scratching their initials into the wall. Zoë and Addie were content to do so, and Julia followed suit.
I started to walk toward the exit with our friends and saw that Julia had lingered behind. As I walked back I could see that she was pressing her knuckle into her cheek and biting.
“Sweetie, what are you doing?”
She stuck one finger in her mouth, drew out one tiny drop of blood, and smeared it on the wall over her initials and those of her friends.
She looked at me gravely.
“Don’t tell Mommy.”
Acknowledgements
It starts and ends with Isabella and Julia. Isabella’s gift of the journal was both inspiration and a vote of confidence as a writer, and I will be forever grateful. She did not seek this adventure, but she made it special.
Julia just happens to be a funny, fabulous, and perceptive kid; she has brightened our lives every day since she arrived on the scene and she constantly astonishes with unexpected insights. She not only adapted to London, she prevailed and sparkled.
I hope I have done our collective story justice. Any failings are mine. I also hope I have conveyed to readers exactly how much Isabella and Julia gave up and how much they contributed to making our London experience extraordinary. The Trailing Spouses and Kids of London are a remarkable breed.
Terry Fallis was generous with advice and insight about the publishing game, and his story of how he launched his first book was an inspiration.
The folks at Dundurn Press had the faith to publish my little book and I will be forever grateful. Thanks to Scott Fraser for saying yes to my pitch, to Dominic Farrell for his perceptive editing advice, and to the whole Dundurn team for their support in trying to get readers to buy it.
I was a reporter at Global News for just short of thirty years, where I made countless friends, who greatly outnumbered the scoundrels, lunatics, and jerks. Thanks to all of them, the friends, that is — particularly the Global National team who were tremendous collaborators throughout my time in London. Kenton Boston picked me for the Europe Bureau Chief job and I am in his debt. Dan Hodgson and Stuart Greer were terrific colleagues, who gave such unfailing support that I’m willing to forgive them for getting me addicted to Twitter and an iPhone.
I still get choked up when I think of how the people at the late, much-missed Royal School helped our little girl with unfailing kindness and wisdom — Miss Eisele and Christine in particular.
And lastly, our London friends, who are friends still. They are numerous and all are valued, but I must give special thanks to (in alphabetical order) Addie, Carolyn, Celia, Dave, Jon, Kayla, Roxane, and Zoë.
What a time we had! Your friendship made and makes our lives so much richer.
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Book Credits
Acquiring Editor: Scott Fraser
Editor: Dominic Farrell
Project Editor: Elena Radic
Proofreader: Ashley Hisson
Designer: Laura Boyle
Publicist: Michelle Melski
Dundurn
Publisher: J. Kirk Howard
Vice-President: Carl A. Brand
Editorial Director: Kathryn Lane
Artistic Director: Laura Boyle
Director of Sales and Marketing: Synora Van Drine
Publicity Manager: Michelle Melski
Editorial: Allison Hirst, Dominic Farrell, Jenny McWha, Rachel Spence, Elena Radic
Marketing and Publicity: Kendra Martin, Kathryn Bassett, Elham Ali