Tea Is For Terror Read online

  As the stragglers joined them Lucy said, “Okay everyone, do we have you all?”

  Claire counted quickly, and then nodded.

  “Well this is it, the big day. And in spite of all our careful planning we’ve had some last minute changes.” She smiled wryly before continuing. “The most obvious is that I will not be with you as you’ve all been told. But Rosa Morino,” she nodded towards the woman standing in the back, out of range of the lens on Tom’s video camera, “has graciously consented to go in my place and verify the data I need to finalize my book. Some of you may have already met Rosa, my very able and talented editorial assistant. She’s been with me for several months. Those of you who have not, please introduce yourselves at your earliest convenience.”

  Rosa nodded, visibly uncomfortable with the attention turned on her.

  “Rosa had only one request. She has asked to be excluded from your photos. Her family doesn’t do photographs and I promised her everyone would respect her wishes. So Tom, please do not include Rosa in your video.” She smiled at the man who had his video camera extended from his eye since they had gathered together.

  He removed the camera and smiled sheepishly, nodding his agreement at Rosa.

  Lucy looked around the group until she got a nod of agreement from each person. “I know you’ll all do what you can to assist Rosa, she’s really been super about stepping in at the last moment to save my book deadline.” She smiled with gratitude and the group murmured responses of appreciation.

  Rosa seemed to shrink even further to the back of the group, out of range of the cameras still busily flashing and snapping as the tour members recorded their departure.

  “Now, in addition, we have a new member of the group, Arnie White.” She gestured to Arnie standing close to her chair. “Arnie hasn’t had the advantage of attending our pre-trip meetings, so he isn’t as up on every detail as the rest of you. I know you’ll do your best to bring him up to speed and include him in the group. Again, take the time to get acquainted as soon as possible. I know Arnie will appreciate it.”

  Arnie nodded eagerly, smiling shyly.

  “Of course, Claire will be with you and she is the person in charge. But remember the point of the Untour is to do things on your own whenever possible. When you arrive in London, Kingdom Coach Tours will have a representative to meet you and a guide from their offices

  will be accompanying you.” She smiled encouragingly at all of them.

  “All right, you’ll all have to go through the scanner, the passport control and on to your gate. What is it?”

  “Forty-two,” came from the chorus of voices.

  “Right, Gate 42. If anyone wants to change money before you get to England you can do it on the way to the gate. They should start boarding in about a half hour. You’re all on your own until you meet the tour guide in Heathrow so remember all we talked about and don’t forget to have fun!”

  She waved gaily as the group moved off to the security gate.

  Liz Cooley had been hovering over Lucy since she arrived, and now it was time to leave. “Don’t worry Lucy. I’ll make sure you get all the information you need.”

  She swooped down, scooped up the laptop case at Rosa’s feet. “Come on, Rosa, I’m an old hand at this kind of thing,” she said as she turned towards the security scanner.

  Rosa appeared stunned with surprise, but then her hand shot out and grabbed the computer case strap, jerking Liz to a stop so suddenly she almost fell over.

  “That’s my laptop and my job, thank you very much.” The words barely made it through Rosa’s angrily clenched jaw. She put the strap to the reclaimed laptop over her shoulder, picked up her tote bag and headed towards the gate.

  Liz looked innocently at Claire and Lucy. “I was just trying to help.”

  Lucy shook her head gently. “I know you want to be helpful Liz, but Rosa’s right. It’s her job and she’s very capable of doing it. You just concentrate on having fun. Leave the data collection to Rosa and the trip management to Claire. Okay?”

  Liz nodded her agreement before heading for the gate. But her face was set with a look of stubborn determination, which didn’t make them feel confident that she had gotten the message.

  Lucy sighed, watching her retreating back. “Maybe you were right, Claire. Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to let her join the group. She is somewhat of an odd duck.”

  “Don’t worry, Lucy. She’ll be fine once we get there. I’m sure she’s disappointed that you’re not coming. You’re her heroine. She just wants to make sure you get everything you need.” They both watched her go through the security gate. “And it’s only two weeks. How bad can it be?”

  * * *

  “Psst, Claire, are you awake?”

  Snuggled into the blanket, suspended cozily in that zone between wakefulness and sleep, just as the plane was suspended between San Francisco and London, she ignored the whisper, pretending to sleep. She had more than enough of Liz already, and the trip had just started. Her stomach burned at the thought of the trip ahead. In spite of her cavalier assurance to Lucy, suspicion that Liz Cooley was going to be a constant problem gnawed at her. The little episode in the airport was the first indication. Then, as luck would have it, Liz and Rosa had seats side by side. That seemed to delight Liz and infuriate Rosa. Apparently the plane was so full that Rosa’s appeal to the stewardess for a seat change had been futile.

  Mrs. B had been right. Not one person had wanted to cancel or even postpone the trip, though they were all disappointed Lucy wouldn’t be with them. No, they all wanted to go and worse, Lucy agreed with them. So now everyone but Lucy was on board, winging their way to adventure in merry old England.

  Claire continued to be reluctant but Lucy reminded Claire that with her book deadline so near, someone had to verify her data. So it was decided Rosa, her invaluable administrative assistant, would travel in Lucy’s place.

  That solution didn’t excite Claire. Rosa was apparently very good at what she did, which was research and editing, but she was a dour, remote individual. Somehow, when Claire had first heard of Rosa she had pictured her as a middle-aged southern rose, full-blown, soft-spoken and with graying blond hair. But Rosa had arrived tall and angular with dyed black hair and thick pancake makeup that threatened to crack from too much facial movement. Perhaps it was the reason she had never seen Rosa smile. Rosa wasn’t like Katy, who had been with Lucy for several years. Katy had been funny and even saucy. Katy would have been a welcome addition to the tour group.

  Poor Katy. She had been injured in a terrible car accident on Devil’s Slide almost a year ago just after they first started talking about doing an Untour. Katy inadvertently delayed this trip once while Lucy dawdled with the book, waiting for her to get better. But after Katy had spent long months in the hospital and therapy, it became obvious that she might never be able to return to work. Lucy’s publisher put an end to all the dissembling going on by forcing Lucy to commit to a completion date. And then he sent Rosa to help Lucy meet her commitment. Rather than being angry, Lucy was grateful to have a publisher, who cared enough to do that. And Lucy was the first to sing Rosa’s praises. She was apparently without peer in her field.

  Now totally awake, Claire wanted to stretch, to roam the darkened aisles as she heard the sisters, Teri and Shar, doing. But she didn’t dare. Liz was probably still awake and any movement on her part would be considered an invitation for company.

  So she stayed still while her mind jumped from subject to subject.

  Liz was the one mismatch in their group. Claire had noticed from the beginning but Lucy had defended her. Lucy had known Liz and her father for years.

  It was a crime, Lucy explained, how Liz’s selfish father had kept his daughter at his side, waiting on him, and helping him write his textbooks. He never had to share his success with her, nor pay her a wage. In fact, Lucy reported that she didn’t ever remember him praising her, or acknowledging her contribution, as he would have had to do had she o
nly been a hired employee. But Liz worshiped him and when he died, Liz, who was totally dependent on him for her life, was lost. Lucy saw this trip as a positive sign that Liz was trying to take charge of her life. But Claire speculated Liz was only attempting to replace her father with Lucy.

  When Claire saw that Lucy wouldn’t be dissuaded, she decided the group was big enough for her to avoid close contact with Liz for the two weeks. If Lucy didn’t find Liz’s hovering to be cloying, why would Claire care? But, of course, that was before she knew Lucy wouldn’t be going and she would be in charge of the group instead of merely another member.

  And now the obvious animosity between Rosa and Liz was surprising as well as distressing. Claire sighed. Maybe she should have offered to change seats with one of them, but already she felt she needed these few hours of peace. And, she decided, they were adults. They would be traveling together for two weeks; they would have to work it out.

  Claire shifted trying to find a more comfortable position just as the sisters sailed down the aisle again. She watched them through slit eyes as they moved briskly forward. One was a little shorter and rounder than the other, and one used a strawberry hair rinse to the other’s ash blonde. They told her people couldn’t believe they were sisters until they got into their forties. Now, in their late fifties (perhaps even sixties), people thought they were twins. Their giggles and zest for life would add gusto to the group. They were encouragingly different than the Liz and Rosa combination. That thought made her feel better. It was a good group of people and they should be fun.

  Claire noticed the cabin was now gray from the light seeping in around the window shades. She sneaked a look at her watch and then twisted it to the light to check it again. She must have slept. It was only three hours until landing.

  Sudden excitement gripped her. I’m on my way to London Town, she realized. Somewhere, somehow she had forgotten that. After years of yearning for exotic destinations, she was finally doing it. She felt the smile reach her lips. It’s not going to be so bad. After all, it’s only two weeks.

  * * *

  Claire briskly pushed her cart of luggage past the customs officer following Mrs. Maus, who acted like she had done this a hundred times. She was still embarrassed about her original assumption that Mrs. Maus’ age and her cane would hamper her ability to keep up with the rest of the group. Their first orientation meeting quickly disabused her of that notion. She realized the rest of the group would be lucky to keep up with the energetic senior.

  “Joe, Joe, this way.” Mrs. Maus pointed to a sign held high with “Springer Tour” written crudely on it.

  Joe Onerato steered his cart across the traffic, not noticing the confusion he caused as people abruptly changed direction to avoid him, causing a domino effect of turbulence in the formerly fast flowing stream of luggage carts.

  “Watch where you’re going,” he grumped at a teenager who veered her heavily loaded luggage cart so sharply to miss him that several of her cases flew off causing a pileup of carts behind her.

  Joe shook his head at the teenager, unaware of his part in the mishap. “Kids today,” he muttered as he joined the group. “Well, where is everyone? Let’s get this show on the road.”

  The Mohney’s, the Pederson’s and the Sorini’s, three couples from their group had already arrived. Mrs. Maus, Joe and Kim Whaley arrived just before Claire did. Looking behind her and seeing several more tour members coming towards them, she turned her attention to the woman holding the sign.

  “I’m Claire Gulliver,” she said and gesturing around her, “and this is the Springer Tour.”

  “Welcome to London.” The smile was genuine and the accent charming. “I’m Emma Jones from Kingdom Coach Tours. I’ll be your guide during your visit.”

  “Jones? We have a Jones on the tour.”

  Emma laughed. “Only one? Over here in any crowd there will probably be a couple of Jones’. In fact, almost the entire population of Wales is named Jones. You’ll see when we get there.”

  She briefly consulted the papers in her hand before addressing Claire. “Now I have 23 people and 15 rooms. Is that correct? Has everyone come?”

  Claire pulled her own list from the pocket on the side of her backpack and nodded. “Everyone was on the plane.” She paused looking up as the group around them swelled. The sisters, Liz, the Martinez’s, Arnie, Vern and Mike, and Annie Houghton reached them, chattering excitedly now that they were really in England.

  “I guess the last few are still trying to get through the lines at passport control.”

  “Ladies and Gentlemen.” It was surprising how Emma’s voice carried through the din in the terminal. The tour group pressed closer, eager to hear what she had to say. “Welcome to England. Our coach is just outside waiting to take you on an orientation tour of London before we check into the hotel. Now while we’re waiting for the rest of the group maybe those of you who have not had an opportunity to purchase English pounds would like to do so now at the booth across the way. I suggest you exchange enough for three days of expenses, and remember that for any sizable purchases you will get a better exchange rate by using your credit cards.”

  “What about the exchange rate? I thought exchange booths were notorious for gouging tourists.”

  Emma smiled at Joe, ignoring the grumpy sound of his comment. “Quite right! Of course, banks usually have the best rate, but even then you still need to shop around a bit. One bank’s exchange rate and fees may not be the same as another bank’s. However, the exchange booths in the terminals are offices of the local banks. On Tuesday we will be in Bath, and you will have a chance to exchange money again, perhaps at a better rate. In an emergency you can always exchange money at the hotels and you will find Exchange shops in every town.”

  Several people moved off towards the booths, while others repeated Emma’s suggestion to the latecomers still straggling in. Claire watched Emma efficiently answer questions, direct more people to the money exchange booths, and then somehow herd them all out of the terminal to the waiting bus. And London!

  “Why, it could be anywhere.” The disappointment was clear as Alice said what everyone was thinking.

  “Except we’re going down the wrong side of the freeway,” George Mohney muttered.

  His wife’s nose was pressed against the window. “For sure it’s not California. Look how green the fields are.” She added wistfully, “More like Michigan.”

  “Don’t get impatient.” Emma smiled. “You’ll soon see some difference. I think this is a first tour for all of you, right? Well, after you’ve traveled a bit you’ll notice the views between the major airports and the cities they service look about the same the world over. But we’ll soon be in London, and as we won’t check into the hotel until 1:00 we will spend some time giving you a tour of the city and getting you orientated for your few days here.

  “Now, first thing for everyone to remember is always, always look both ways before stepping off the curb. You’d be surprised how many tourists we lose that way.”

  People smiled, relaxing, settling back as Emma started talking about the options they had as to how to spend their afternoon. She handed out packages of tickets, maps and information to be used during their few days in London. Some events were prepaid and the tickets were included, like the theatre on Sunday night, and the barge ride from Little Venice. But they each had to arrange to arrive at the appropriate places on their own. It was part of learning to travel. She quickly sorted out who wanted to do what and helped them organize into groups and plan their afternoon.

  “Remember, taxis are cheap and will always take you where you want to go. But mass transportation is best if you want to really feel a part of London life.”

  “Once we get you checked into your hotel, you’re on you own until Monday morning when I pick you up after breakfast. You have your itineraries and your set agenda items. When I see you Monday morning you’ll be experienced travelers.”

  Claire looked around at the eager, appr
ehensive, and occasional scared expressions, feeling just like the rest of them but not daring to show it. She was their leader after all, and she needed to appear confident.

  Suddenly, they were off the freeway, or as Emma called it, the motorway, and into streets lined with stone and brick buildings. Row houses lined the streets like San Francisco. Each house was attached to the other, with brightly painted doors leading to steps, which ended directly onto the sidewalks. Every little way a tree grew, and some steps had little pots of flowers squeezed into corners, but mostly it was just stone, brick and pavement. The bus was moving fast. It was hard to see it all. Emma’s quick spiel seemed to tell them everything, point out everything.

  The Thames was pronounced temms. Piccadilly Circus, which of course Claire knew wasn’t, but still it was just a busy intersection. Leicester Square, but call it Lester or no one will know what you’re talking about, was a teeming mass of people, restaurants and ticket booths. Buckingham Palace, the London Wall, the Tower Bridge seemed to fly by, then back the other side of the river with everyone crowding towards the windows to snap pictures across the river of the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben and Westminster Abbey. There was St. Paul’s and the controversial Millennium Pedestrian Bridge. Across again, seeing the City, Dr. Johnson’s House, Fleet Street, Downing Street. By the time they arrived at their hotel they were all dazed, glad to accept their keys and wander off to their rooms to sort out their luggage and thoughts.

  * * *

  Postcard from Westminster Abbey to Millicent Gulliver:

  Day 3 – Sunday

  Dear Mom,

  I went to church services here this morning and I can’t begin to describe how awesome it was. I expected to see the queen coming down the aisle when they sounded the processional – and the choir sounded like something we would pay money to hear at Davies Hall, if we were lucky enough to get the tickets.

  I’m having a great time. Lucy was right. We can and are doing it – and we’re having fun. I have to rush now because I’m meeting the group at Little Venice and we’re going on a barge down one of the canals. Every minute is an adventure.