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After a much-anticipated bathroom break, the old lady and the fat lady trudged the endless dull hot corridors of Heathrow. The old lady pulled her wheeled suitcase and carried her large purse and heavy knapsack filled with bottles of wine. The fat lady carried a large heavy bag on one shoulder, a large purse on the other, and half held the heavy bag with her hands to give her shoulder some relief. Both silently worried about how they would manage the next time they arrived here---with all the treasures of the Isles in their bags! The old lady caught sight of and grabbed a baggage cart! Salvation! She discovered it does take a bit of expertise to barge through the crowd with these, and not spill their contents.
There followed a disappointingly short customs interview . "Obviously we're not young or interesting anymore," thought the fat lady, as she gleefully looked for the new stamp in her passport---yes! There it was-----2 stamps now, hard-earned from a reluctant-to-grant husband, both saying "Heathrow" and dated 5 years apart.
On again they trudged, grateful for moving sidewalks where they appeared, through what seemed like a very large maze of corridors, until --at last!---(shades of the Beatles in hard Day's Night) they burst (well, more like slunk) through a doorway and out into freedom, welcome cool damp air, and the bus (coach) stop! So there they waited again, leaning against the brick wall, guarding their bags, watching the buses come and go, and enjoying the coolness, the dampness, the diesel fumes, and the melodic voices. All this seemed very exotic to their dried-out rural desert senses. They could have lazily waited for much longer, being happy just to be there, looking and listening, but the bus to Stansted came right on time and they heaved themselves on board and into comparatively luxurious seats.
The fat lady sat by the window and thirstily drank in the scenery. She hoped to see some familiar sights of her beloved London, but the bus stayed on the outskirts. Still there was much to see. There was so much green, so many trees, so many bricks, so many unfamiliar vehicles of unknown make. It was all fascinating, and as she breathed it in, she could feel her parched soul start to fill, to heal, her very chromosomes feeling at long last HOME. After all, every one of her ancestors had come from this sacred, fairy-tale place. Through her, the Carpenters still breathed, as did the Pooles, the Gunns, the Barltrops, Mosses, Crabbes, Campbells, Stevens, Delights and more. Mostly English and Scottish it would seem, except the Delights came from Holland in the 17th century, she thought. "If you would listen to what I say, you would know, " said the old lady. "My Great-Great Grandmother Hannah Delight only took the surname of her stepfather Michael Delight. Her father is unknown. She was illegitimate. We are not really Delights!" "Hmmpf! Speak for yourself!" thought the fat lady, as she tried to keep her eyes open, but failed, and the next thing she knew, to her horror, she was snoring and awakened herself with it. "No! Surely that snoring wasn't me"! she thought guiltily, fully expecting a shove from the old lady, but getting just a disgusted look instead. The fat lady stayed awake after that, shamed out of her sleepiness.
Rather suddenly they were at their destination, Stansted airport, and deposited on the sidewalk (pavement). The old lady announced, "Follow me. I know where I'm going, having been here before." The fat lady rolled her eyes. She remembered being shipboard and following her triumphant and proud mother as she led the way to their cabin---on the wrong side of the ship! Knowing it was going to be a workout, the fat lady dutifully followed her mother downstairs, then upstairs, then downstairs, then way upstairs (after finally having asked the way) dragging and hauling the luggage (and the wine bottles) the whole way.
At last arriving where they should have gone in the first place, the old lady sat down exhausted and handed the fat lady a 10 pound note ($18), saying, "Would you like to see if you can find us something to eat." "At last!" thought the fat lady, who still had only American money, as she threw off her burdens and headed straight for a small run-out store in the airport. She remembered the last time this had happened. It had been 5 years ago when they arrived at the train station in Edinburgh. Her Mom had sat down exhausted (jet lag), handed her a 10 pound note, and told her to get something to eat. She had searched the station and returned sad and empty-handed, saying they couldn't afford to eat in this country---even a hamburger was 10 dollars! Her mother had then taken the money back and found some sandwiches to buy. As her mother was eating, she dropped the sandwich-splat!-on the street. She was so tired and so hungry, that she just picked it up, dusted it off and ate it! That wasn't going to happen this time, the fat lady knew. She was experienced now. First she grabbed the "Jelly Babies" candy. "Yum, I've been wanting these for 5 years." The she found some salmon sandwiches marked down. Mom would apperciate a bargain. Not knowing when they would ever eat again, she took 4 of those. She also chose some good English cheese. "There's no cheese as good" she nodded, knowing there is no Anglophile like a born-again, Beatle-loving, cheesy Anglophile. She bought these treasures and gave them to her mom. "What are these Jelly Babies for?" disapproved the old lady. "I thought you were on the protein diet." "Yes, I know they're deadly carbs," answered the fat lady as she snatched them safely back, "but this trip I will probably be eating mostly carbs. Too hard to get protein. Anyway, I've been waiting 5 years." ---To be continued.
Click HERE to continue with Fat Lady's Story. Part 5.