On a Stormy Day in London

     Rain pelted the ground. Small puddles soon appeared, splashing wet the feet of all who walked the sodden pavements, seemingly drunk on habitual showers, saturated they turned to rivers. Then the torrents began, intermittent with gusts of wind, hailing down upon London's constant traffic, incessant, movement that knew no bounds, no confines. It would travel on throughout the day, over bridges where the river Thames flowed endlessly, on and on into the night and beyond, street lights reflecting on wet roads like the remains of a fairground, as planes flew low overhead at regular intervals, ready to land. The roadways were incandescent after the day's heat. Once the rain came, it washed away summer's end, the shimmer in the parks now golden, bending boughs heavy in leaf, flowers now fallen, washed into autumn's hold.
     Emma finished her large cup of coffee, the dregs frothy clinging to the bottom. Looking out from the warmth of a café, she gathered her things, stood up, then proceeded into the onslaught of now storm-like weather. Resigned to it, she headed for the nearest underground station, her feet disturbing the puddles as she hurried, sending the water in all directions. 
     Emma gritted her teeth as she had left her coat and umbrella at home. Wet strands of jet-black hair clung to her pretty face as she hurried to the entrance of the station. Down the steps to the barriers, she touched her travel card onto the yellow area and gratefully passed through the open gates. Around the corner were the two large lifts that descended to the lower reaches of the underground, taking her to a choice of tunnels before reaching the platform.
    But today was different. One of the lifts was out of order. Many people were waiting for the only one in operation, several with suitcases on wheels heading for the airport. Eventually the lift door opened, then many converged into the available space, hot and airless. There were several different nationalities thrown together. Emma lowered her head close to a young man who apologized for treading on her foot.
     'That's alright. It's no bother', she muttered, looking up briefly. It's a little crowded today.' She looked down at her shoes grimacing. They were wet and soggy.
     'The weather doesn't help', smiled the young man. 'Looks like you got caught in it.'
     'I'm afraid so.' Emma looked up, hair still clinging to her face as she tried to brush it back, giving a hint of a smile. The young man hadn't taken his gaze from Emma. Now she was wishing she hadn't got caught in the downpour and started to feel a little self-conscious. She felt his eyes on her. As the lift doors opened on the other side, the young man said hastily, 'apologies again for stepping on your toes.'
     The lift was emptying, people were making their way in several directions. Emma started heading for the usual platform, the train hopefully would arrive in a minute or two, taking her home to a cosy house where she could change her clothes, which felt uncomfortable and damp. 
     She turned, trying to look consoled and smiled charmingly at the young man. 'You're welcome. No harm done' she replied as cheerfully as she could manage under the circumstances.
     The platform was crowded, there had obviously been a holdup somewhere. Oh bother, thought Emma. Just when I need to get home quickly & dry off! Her feet were soaked, she had worn some soft leather shoes today and now suffered the eventuality of the British weather turning autumnal. She swore under her breath, trying to advance closer to the edge of the platform. She decided to edge her way to the end of the platform, where she might have a better chance of catching the next train she knew would be crowded to the hilt. As she did so, she ended up standing next to the young man from the lift.
     'Hello again' he grinned. 'I promise not to stand on you toes this time.'
     'Oh, its you!' Emma was not sure whether to be pleased or not. All she wanted to do was get home.
     'Yes, it's me.'
     Emma continued, 'I'm a creature of habit but I've never seen you on this platform before, or in the lift either.'
     'Just as well perhaps. At least your toes are safer!' The young man looked up and down the platform for the oncoming train, but it was not in sight. 
     'I wonder what has happened to all the trains,' frowned Emma. 'There is usually one after the other.'
     An announcement came from the platform speakers at that moment - all the trains were held up because of an emergency somewhere along the tunnel.
     'Damn and blast!' retorted Emma. 'Today of all days.' She mainly said it to no-one in particular, but the young man next to her offered, 'I would be more than happy to try for a cab with you. If we made our way out now, we may be in luck.'
     'That's kind of you. I might take you up on that,' replied Emma.
     'It's the least I can do for abusing your feet in that way. Shall we make our way out of this crush? I'll try not step on your toes again, promise.'
     'Thank you, good idea. I'll follow you up those stairs.' Emma indicated with her head, trying not to smile outwardly as the young man led the way. 
     They eventually arrived back at the station's entrance. The young man noticed a waiting cab and immediately spoke to the driver.
     'Where would you like to go?' he asked Emma 'If you tell the driver your address, I'll use his services afterwards.'
     The young man stood back while Emma mentioned her address. She got in, her new acquaintance following. The cab set off from the curb, entering the relentless London traffic.
     The rain by now was easing, steam wafting upwards from the wet road, mingling with cars and buses while the late afternoon sun made a brief appearance still feeling warm after the onslaught of the sudden storm.
     'But what if you are going entirely in the opposite direction?' Emma quickly arranged herself next to the young man, still feeling self-conscious.
     'Well as it happens, I AM going in your direction, vaguely anyway,' smiled the young man. 'I suppose I should know your name, specially as we are travelling companions. Mine is Richard, named after the notorious king Richard I, nicknamed 'Lionheart' I believe. My mother is an avid reader of historic fiction and rather fancies the life Richard led, going on crusade as he did. He was quite a leader of armies it seems. Had a heck of a life, never in this country for long either.  Always off fighting, braving the enemy, even got nabbed at one time. Think he was supposed to have rubbed someone up the wrong way, so got 'detained' on return from the crusade.  Held for many months too. Then his mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine bailed him out. Richard's younger brother John was causing a lot of trouble in England, trying to gain power and the throne in Richard's absence. So she had to get her favourite son Richard back as quickly as possible. Paid a lot of money for him too! Supposed to have been about 150,000 marks of silver to an emperor, for his release in 1194.
     'You seem to know a lot about it.' Emma's attention was now fully on Richard sitting beside her, becoming more animated by the minute.  
     'My mother is dead keen on certain authors. She says there is a lot of historical information to learn if I was to follow suit. She has been reading that stuff for a long time and well, I suppose a lot of it has rubbed off on me,' grinned Richard.
     'You must like history to absorb all that!' replied Emma. It all sounds rather interesting. Tell me more - if you like, that is. Historic fiction must be very complicated. And by the way, my name is Emma. Pleased to meet you,' she smiled somewhat hastily.
     Richard didn't hesitate to continue. 'Well it's like this...' He glanced over at Emma who indeed looked interested, much to his surprise. Her brown eyes were bright with anticipation, she seemed to him to be glowing. He paused longer, noticing her features. Her long dark hair was now drying, complexion pink as ripe summer peaches. She wasn't tall like him, nor was she very short either, her figure trim & almost sporty, he thought. He brought his mind back to the subject at hand, adding, 'most of the books my mother reads are historic fiction, but actually much of it is based on fact. What made you think it would be historic fiction?'
     'Oh, I don't know...' Emma shrugged her shoulders a little. 'It all sounds rather exciting, the sort of thing you might read when very young about knights and kings, castles and the like. Perhaps much of it was based on fact. I'd like to think so. Please, tell me more,' she added smiling at Richard, almost a pleading look on her face.
    'I don't know an awful lot myself, but my mother is quite enthusiastic about that period of history and what came afterwards too.'
     'What came afterwards?' asked Emma. 'I learned about Richard I in history at school, but have forgotten most of it, the crusades too. Wasn't there more than one?'
     'Indeed there was,' replied Richard. 'Involving the Knights Templar too. Their original name was, The Poor Fellow Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Jerusalem. They played an important role, so-called. They were originally there to protect the pilgrims on crusade, look after them, but eventually things changed and they were finally disbanded or killed after the order had existed for nearly two centuries in the Middle Ages. Evidently they had been a skilled fighting unit and in the beginning a French Knight, Hugues de Payens in 1120 proposed to King Baldwin II of Jerusalem, to create a monastic order to protect the pilgrims. This king granted them headquarters in a wing of the Royal Palace on the Temple Mount. In fact their existence alone is very interesting. But as luck would have it, cutting a long story short, they had started off very poor, gaining in time, more wealth & power, so eventually many were arrested in France, tortured into giving false statements, then burnt at the stake. Not a good ending was it?'
     'No, I think not,' said Emma, giving a slight shudder. Perhaps they should have stayed poor and not become wealthy. I must say that their original name goes against how they finally ended up! The order may have lasted a lot longer if they had not become so powerful.
     'It's hard to say.' Richard looked over again at Emma, wondering that perhaps they had several things in common. Although his mother was adamant about history, he did enjoy thinking about it, even reading the same books from time to time whenever he got bored with life in the present day. 
     Richard continued, 'Another of those "what if" scenarios. That could be applied to many facets in history. England might have become French or German, or even Dutch. One never knows. It's how the cookie crumbles. After all, French was spoken for some time after William the Conqueror's time.'
     Emma still facing Richard, asked, 'Back to Richard I for a moment. Tell me a bit more about him. I like the sound of this Richard. He seems to have lived an exciting existence.' 
      She looked out of the window for a moment adding, 'we haven't got long to go before I'll be home, but I hope you'll have time to tell me a bit more of this Lionheart.'
     'I don't know an awful lot more, but he also ruled as Duke of Normandy and had several other titles as Count of this and that. He was the third son of Henry II & Eleanor of Aquitaine as you already know, twice rebelling against his father before becoming King of England. He was a gifted military leader and warrior going on the third crusade in 1190, but never reconquering Jerusalem. This must have been a disappointment to him don't you think? But fighting against the Muslims, their leader Saladin, probably had a certain respect for Richard. After he finally returned to England when he had been ransomed, he was re-crowned at Winchester in Hampshire. After all that he had achieved, five years later, Richard was involved in a minor siege against a rebellious baron, whereupon he was shot in the shoulder with an arrow by a relatively unknown young man. His shoulder had become gangrenous and soon killed him. Not a justified end for such a warrior as Richard, was it?'
      'I quite agree. It appears he had survived many battles and skirmishes and to have to die like that seems utterly unfair really. I had heard that he may not have spoken much English, if at all.'
     'There is every possibility of that.' replied Richard. 'It is not known for sure what language he spoke, but it was a dialect of southern France I think. He was educated when young, in England, but in those days, English wasn't the first language spoken. Not like it is now. It had to evolve. Do you speak any languages Emma?'
     'Believe it or not, French,' she smiled nodding gently. 'Spoke it at school as we had a good French teacher. But it's always best to practice it regularly, otherwise you soon forget. I learned for five years and passed the exams too. Amazing, as it wasn't my favourite subject.'
     'What was your favourite then?' Richard was becoming more and more enamoured with Emma. When she seemed enthusiastic about anything, her eyes gave off a beautiful sparkle.
     Emma turned her head and answered, 'English!' Adding a slight nod at the same time. Richard grinned and then burst out laughing.
     'What's so funny?' asked Emma.
     'I might have known.' Richard smiled. 'It's a bit like "coals to Newcastle" isn't it? He's me going on and on about all this history and I bet you knew it all anyway. Didn't you?'
     'Just a little,' confessed Emma. Guess I'd better apologize. But all that you have told me, I found immensely interesting.'
     'I bet you did,' Richard pulled a face, feeling slightly exasperated, but relief that at least Emma had been honest confessing to her knowledge.
     Emma suddenly said, 'oh look, this is where I live. Thank goodness - now I can dry off properly. Getting caught in a that rain wasn't much fun. Do you have far to go from here Richard?'
     'Only about two miles.' Now it was his turn to smile.
     'But you never said,' remarked Emma.
     'You never asked,' laughed Richard, then added, do you suppose it would be possible to actually go out on a date with you one night soon? That is, unless you are married or in a relationship.'
     'Nothing like that,' said Emma. I suppose you had better have my phone number or email address in that case. If you care to contact me soon, I'm sure I could find a free night.' She rummaged in her bag finding a small pad with pen attached, then scribbled her details. 'Hope you can read that alright.' She handed the paper to Richard who was standing by the passenger seat door of the taxi. 'Please, let me pay for the cab.'
     Richard was quick to reply. 'Thanks, but no thanks,' he smiled. I was going in this direction anyway. Besides, I enjoyed our chat. Sorry I did most of it.' He looked down at his shoes for a moment, colour rising to his cheeks.
     He was tall with dark blonde hair, a muscular but well formed body & limbs. Emma suddenly taking in all that was standing before her, liked what she saw, smiled to herself. She too, felt her cheeks becoming a lot pinker.  
     'Nice to have met you Richard. Most unexpected. It wasn't so bad you standing on my toes. Really it wasn't,' she laughed.
     'The pleasure has been mine,' replied Richard, suddenly realizing what he had said. 'I'll contact you very soon. See you Emma. He sat beside the taxi driver for the rest of the way, the car setting off quickly from the curb.
     Emma walked the short distance to her door, turned one last time smiling inwardly, remembering the unexpected journey home after leaving the coffee shop, getting caught in the onslaught, then meeting Richard.
     The small park opposite was turning golden in the evening light, shadows lengthening, the tall trees moving in the peace  of the afternoon's storm, now departed. Birds were still flitting amidst the branches as a few leaves floated quietly down, settling on the grass under the trees, sprinkling it with colour like an autumn patchwork, the shades of the changing seasons.
     Emma was rather was looking forward to their date.
    
    
    
       


       
    

The Amethyst Ring

     Suspended precariously over the gently flowing river, the old bridge supported by a vague idea of age-old timbers, creaked & groaned as Katherine walked slowly across. She paused at it's center which rose slightly arched, pondering on her past life. She felt for the ring on the third finger of her left hand holding it out in front, smiling as she studied it, remembering  the moment it had been placed there. Katherine had been so very happy, the memories flooding back into her mind. Tears welled up within her & trickled gently down her ageing cheeks. The years of happiness spent with William now overcame her, their enriched lives together in married bliss would always be cherished. She walked on a few steps then paused again fingering the amethyst ring, admiring it, her thoughts flowing like the endless river beneath her.
     Many years ago Katherine had met William on the same bridge, but the weather had been in the bleak mid winter, ice had formed, encrusting the river banks either side beneath the small arched bridge. The iciness slowing the flow of water for a time during the cold winter. The air had been sharp & frosty that day, her cheeks rosy, cold to the touch, later her heart had been filled with the love she felt for William, they were both still young. She remembered how the wintry blast had gripped her. She had shivered, pulling her scarf closer to her neck to keep out the cold. As she had leant over the wooden railing of the old bridge, she had slipped on an icy patch & an arm had reached out holding her steady, preventing her falling.
     'Are you alright lady?' came a softly spoken man's voice.
     'Oh, I think so - thank you,' replied Katherine a little bemused.
     'You almost fell on that slippery ice there. I'm glad I caught you in time. Please excuse me for grabbing your arm like that,' the man's voice continued.
     'You mustn't apologize. I'm most grateful,' said Katherine. 'You probably saved me from receiving a few bruises, or worse still, broken bones,' she continued. 'Thank you again.'
     'You're welcome. By the way, my name is William.'
     'Mine is Katherine. I'm pleased to meet you.'
     'The pleasure's mine,' grinned William. He paused for a moment, breathing in the cold morning. 'It's very cold today, isn't it?' He shifted from one foot to the other.
     'Indeed it is, but I enjoy walking in the cold air. I find it invigorating.'
     'I do too.' William turned his head slightly, taking in Katherine's features, liking what he saw. 'But I've never seen you before.' He hesitated again, frowning a little as he thought.
     'I don't usually come this way,' said Katherine. 'In fact it's quite a way from home, but the air felt good today after lingering indoors for so long.' She thought how nice William was. He had a gentle manner about him, appeared a little shy too. William looked out across the river, the cold bleakness of the day turning his breath into brief clouds that floated quickly away. He tried not to glance too much in Katherine's direction, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
     They chatted on for a while enjoying the morning stroll, sharing a love of books, discussing many aspects of reading. As time went by they realized they had much in common.
     'May I see you home safely?' William looked over at Katherine, thinking how sweet her face was. He noticed her smile in particular, her pretty mouth & white teeth. She possessed clear blue eyes that sparkled when she laughed, making him feel warm inside, even though the weather was far from warm.
     'Well I live a distance away. It may be completely out of your way.'
     'I don't mind in the least,' said William. 'Can't have you falling on the ice, can I?' He frowned at that moment but hoped her answer would be positive, then a persuasive look in his eyes.
     'That's most kind of you. It's not so far really.' Katherine managed to glance over at William when she thought he wasn't looking in her direction. It was admirable of him to offer. She was compelled to agree. 
     They were both in their late 20's, neither having married or become attached as yet. Katherine lived on her own in an end of terrace house on the edge of a village. William at the other end, a bachelor of independent means, shy where women were concerned. He had only lived there a short time after changing jobs. He now worked for himself as an architect, setting himself up in business after gaining much experience working for a large London company. They had decided to relocate elsewhere, but William had made the decision not to stay with them, preferring the quieter country life where he had been brought up. So far his business had been successful, gaining many new clients in a relatively short time. It was easy to adjust to country life & the local pub, The George, seemed to produce several idiosyncratic village folk he found interesting when he visited the pub for a drink & meal sometimes.
     Katherine was a primary school teacher & loved her job in the village. They had many children attending the local school as lots of young couples had moved into the village & surrounding areas. She & William were beginning to see rather a lot of each other, mainly in the weekends, but occasionally on week nights when Katherine was not marking the children's work. She had plucked up courage to invite William to supper one night in early March if he wasn't too busy. It didn't take him long to agree to her invitation, turning up on time at 7pm as suggested, grasping a decent bottle of red wine & some flowers - white roses he had managed to find still available. He thought she would like white roses.
     'Come in William,' she said. 'I hope you are hungry. I've prepared a French dish. Hope you like coq au vin & there's a chocolate mousse with cream to follow. No strawberries at this time of year I'm afraid.
     'Thank you. I'm sure I'll love that. Sounds wonderful. You must be a good cook.'
     'Oh, I get by,' blushed Katherine, feeling William's gaze on her, becoming a little self-conscious. Handing her the bottle of red wine he said, 'I hope this goes with the chicken dish you have prepared. Thought you'd like white roses too. Bit hard to find them, but find them I did.'
     'Your choice of wine is perfect,' smiled Katherine. 'Thank you William. The roses are beautiful. I'll find a vase for them. I love white roses.' It was William's turn to feel self-conscious. 'You are most welcome. It's good of you to have cooked something that sounds special. I will enjoy a home-cooked meal. I'm not the best of cooks.'
     Together as the evening progressed, whatever shyness they might have felt, vanished & a feeling of warmth grew between them. They enjoyed their time together laughing & joking, spending the evening in deep discussion about the books they were reading, listening to music sharing a bottle of wine.
     After several such suppers, they fell deeply in love. The winter had turned into spring with the bluebells carpeting the nearby woods. Daffodils spilling in clumps onto the lanes, golden they nodded, dancing brightly in the spring sunshine. The snowdrops having first appeared, their white flower heads delicately edged with green tips as though painted on with an artist's brush. They often poked through the cold ground flowering when snow had fallen, their cheery heads thrusting above the whiteness delighting the onlooker, reminding that the winter was nearing its end. The beginning of spring was apparent. In the lanes many wild flowers flourished. Then came the dog roses sprinkled throughout hedgerows, accompanied by tall stems of pink foxglove. The headiness of honeysuckle wafted through the air, when on a warm night in summer when it was Katherine's birthday, they had walked as far as the old bridge, William had produced a small box. Katherine opened it carefully. Nestled in black velvet was a beautiful silver ring with an amethyst embedded in the center. The band of silver was wider where the stone was set, slightly raised so as to be prominent, but perfectly designed.
     'Oh, how beautiful,' gasped Katherine. 'Thank you so much Wills.' She often called him by his nickname. 'It's lovely & simple, but very beautiful.' William took it out of the small box & placed it on the third finger of her left hand. It fitted perfectly. It had been passed down the generations in William's family & all who had worn it had been very happy. It was an old heirloom given to him by his mother who had died suddenly two years ago. She meant him to have the ring as she believed it brought happiness in a marriage. It had been carefully crafted a long time ago & now Katherine would wear it experiencing what he hoped was a family tradition.
     'Katherine, will you marry me?' William now looked very serious. 'You must know I love you very much. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please, say you will. I'd be lost without you now. I want you to be my wife.'
     'How romantic!  I'd love to marry you Wills. When did you have in mind?' Katherine smiled sweetly up at him feeling rather excited deep down.
     'Tomorrow!' laughed William.
     'That's a little soon don't you think? There may be a few arrangements to make.' Katherine gave a little laugh, then kissed him gently on his mouth.
     'Do we have to make arrangements? Can't we just get married?' retorted William.
     'It's not quite that simple, but yes, as soon as we can, we will.' William made a face at her which made Katherine laugh again. She loved his manner, his complete dedication to the matter in hand, his apparent seriousness. It was all she could do not t0 appear too impetuous herself. But deep down she felt this moment would always be important to her, to them. It would be remembered, cherished.
     Not too long after, they were married in the village church. It had been a lovely warm day in early October, both had looked forward to the day, Katherine wearing a long gown of off-white silk, white roses in her hair with tiny pearls dotted about her veil. She held a bouquet of white roses & looked beautiful, her blue eyes sparkling like the sea, dark hair curling softly flowing down her back & tied up at the sides making her look elegant. William was handsome in a dark suit, a white rosebud in his lapel. They had decided to live in William's house & rent the other one. It had given them another helpful income. Katherine had continued teaching, William becoming rather successful as an architect. Their life together had been happy, they had travelled, sharing many of life's experiences. Their love of books, music & other things had continued over the years.
    
     Katherine stood on the bridge gazing wistfully at the ring she had worn since William first placed it on her finger all those years ago.  She sighed remembering the happy times they had spent together before & after their marriage, her mind reminiscing over the years. The fun, laughter & all they had shared, flooded back into Katherine's mind now, her heart sad after losing dear William recently after a sudden heart attack at the young age of seventy two. Tears flooded down her cheeks. Her life seemed empty now, their marriage had been fulfilled, happy, contented, although they had had no children. The amethyst ring had certainly brought happiness into their lives, or so it seemed. The loss of William was devastating, unexpected. Katherine gazed at the ring again, stroking it, memories vivid in her mind of how they had lived & loved. William had been right, the ring had brought happiness, a blissful contentment she would never forget. He will be with her forever. She knew that.
     Katherine looked up from admiring the amethyst ring she had always loved, the center stone sitting proud in the silver, the sun still warm on her face, a light breeze had sprung up catching the sides of her hair that was slowly turning white. Her face was still beautiful, eyes blue as the sea, but had somehow lost their sparkle. The bridge was even older now, like her she thought, it spanned over the river that had turned icy when she first met William. Over time it had remained intact, its timbers ageing but holding firm. It still creaked & groaned when anyone walked over it. The center of the arch where they had sometimes stood peering into the flowing water, was the most worn. Perhaps other people had paused there, leaning on the rail. The water was not icy today, in fact being October the weather was still unusually warm. Ah, thought Katherine, suddenly remembering , the sunshine spilling across the old timbers of the bridge, today was their wedding anniversary. She gazed nonchalently one last time over the arched rail of the bridge, turned & walked slowly toward home as she wiped away the shed tears . The water continued flowing under the bridge as her love for William would continue until the day she too, would die. But it wasn't going to be today. Katherine smiled gently to herself & walked home.