Page 14 of Too Busy for Love

‘I’ve always wanted to go on the London Eye.’

‘I’d be up for that.’

‘Then there’s the National Gallery and the National Portrait Gallery.’

‘You’re on your own for those, I’m afraid. Art isn’t really my thing. Have you got the Tower of London on your list?’

‘I have, but I’m not sure about it. Isn’t it basically a prison? Feels a bit like tempting fate to me.’

‘I don’t think it was just a prison, and I’ve always wanted to see the crown jewels.’

‘OK. Madame Tussauds?’

‘Yes. Isn’t the planetarium next door? We could do that at the same time.’

‘Umm, I think that closed a while ago. Sorry.’

‘Oh. Can we go to the Science Museum then?’

‘I’m sensing a theme here. Only if we do the Natural History Museum as well.’

‘Deal.’

The breakfast is absolutely delicious and, to my surprise, I eat it all. After we’ve cleared up, we carry our refilled coffee cups through to the bar and start to fill up a makeshift calendar with activities for each day until next Monday. We’ve got a real mix of stuff, from riding the Thames Clipper down to the Royal Observatory at Greenwich, through a picnic on Hampstead Heath, to attending a service at Westminster Abbey. I was a bit surprised when Jock suggested that one, but he pointed out that, not only would it do us good to get the Almighty on side in case we needed him, but it was also the only way to see inside the Abbey for free. To my amazement, he even begrudgingly agreed to visit the National Gallery with me in the end, although the Portrait Gallery is still hanging in the balance. We’ve checked the weather forecast and been online to make sure we don’t plan activities at times when the attraction we’re supposed to bevisiting is shut. I’ve even found a store nearby where I can pick up a cheap digital camera to record our week in the absence of my phone, so I don’t think we could be more organised if we tried.

We’ve decided to get the Almighty on side sooner rather than later, so we’re going to go to Evensong this afternoon, but our first stop today is London Zoo. With a little bit of online sleuthing, I’ve worked out which buses we need to catch, both to get us to the zoo and also back to the Abbey in time for the service at five.

‘I prefer the bus,’ I’d explained to Jock when he’d expressed his worries that we might end up miles from our intended destination if we got it wrong. ‘You don’t see anything on the Tube, and it’s so hot and stuffy down there.’

We’ve pre-booked our tickets for the zoo and, because neither of us have our phones, we’ve also printed off all the information we could possibly need to help us get the right buses, so I’m feeling optimistic as we step onto the pavement, locking the door behind us. We’ve barely covered five metres, however, when a man blocks our path.

‘Hi there,’ he says brightly, whipping his phone out to take a picture. ‘Robin Bugg from theMorning Post. Can I ask you a few questions?’

Of course it was too good to be true. For a moment, I’m tempted to turn on my heel and flee back inside to safety, but there’s no way I’m prepared to let some journalist deny me my freedom.

‘Lo siento, no hablo Ingles,’ I say as I grab Jock’s hand and pull him past.

‘I’ve no idea what she said,’ Jock calls as we break into a run, ‘but I’m going to guess she means fuck off.’

‘What did you actually say?’ he asks once we’ve slowed down, checked the journalist hasn’t followed us and caught our breath. ‘I’m not very good with languages, I’m afraid.’

‘I told him in Spanish that I don’t speak English. I couldn’t think what else to do.’

‘Impressive. Is that pretty much all of your vocabulary or are you fluent?’

‘My mother is Spanish, so she brought me up speaking it at home.’

‘That’s so cool. If I had my time again, I’d definitely pay more attention to language classes at school.’

I’m still holding his hand as we make our way to the bus stop but, if he’s noticed, he doesn’t seem to mind. I’m surprised to find that I’m enjoying the sensation, and it makes us look like a normal couple appreciating the spring sunshine. Frankly, I’ll take as much normality as I can right now, even if we’re not a real couple. I’m delighted to see that the front seats on the upper deck of the bus are free when it arrives, so Jock and I grab them and enjoy the views of London as it picks its way through the traffic. Every time we arrive at a stop, I check it against the route plan that I’ve printed off, just to reassure us both that we’re going the right way. The further away we get from the hotel, the more relaxed I start to feel and, at one point, I almost wonder if all the drama of yesterday was just a figment of my imagination. It wasn’t, I know that, but it’s lovely to be able to detach myself from it. I glance across at Jock and smile.

Today is going to be a good day.

6

‘I feel incredibly peaceful,’ I say quietly to Jock. The service has just finished and we’re sitting in our seats soaking up the atmosphere of Westminster Abbey.

‘I know what you mean,’ he replies. ‘I’m not especially religious, but there’s something about being in a place like this and experiencing a ritual that’s taken place, probably unchanged, for hundreds of years.’

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