When I bid farewell to my brother at King’s Cross, Mum got all sentimental, as if it might be their last meeting on this side of the Thameswhat with her age and tendency to expect the worst. Wanting to see my brother and sister for what felt like a grand finale, I set off on my journey. First, I visited Uncle Henry, and then it was off to Aunt Margarets place. Uncle Henry had a cheeky dig at my upcoming wedding, scheduled for six months later, so naturally, I invited him in jest. He warned me to behave myself, making a big fuss about his birthmark, as though it were the Queens stamp of approval. The weather was delightfully British, which means it was sunnymiraculously.
On arrival, Aunt Margaret and her husband greeted us warmly, with actual enthusiasm and a pot of proper English tea. The next morning, my younger cousin Grace and I decided to lap up the seaside air. After splashing about and attempting to swim without swallowing half the Channel, we returned for lunchbeans on toast, of course. Grace, pretending she was tired, really had other ideas. She promptly convinced me to head out again to the sea and then to the cinema. As we exited the water, two lads approached, clearly lost, and asked how to get to Fleet Street. Grace delivered directions with a flourish, while the second bloke seemed transfixed by me, then asked, Pardon me, is your name Lydia?
Blinking in confusion, I raised an eyebrow. He quickly clarified, You live in London, right? And youve got a friend called Emma. Shes my sister. I spotted you in her photos and couldnt help wanting to meet you. Thats when I clocked the birthmark on his armUncle Henry style. We decided to all head off to the cinema, then took a leisurely stroll along the coast, pondering life and whether seagulls ever sleep.
At the end, as we parted, the lad mentioned theyd wrapped up a work trip and were off the next day. He asked if he could ring me and for my number, which Ifeeling rather adventurousgave him. Ten days later, he met me and Mum at Heathrow, andfast forward six monthsthere we were, married. All told, it cost us a small fortune in pounds, but at least it was worth more than a funny story at a pub.
