Dennis and Margie Finchly were having their first dinner in London. The Knight's Horse pub had come highly recommended by their hotel and was living up to their expectations. From the outside, it hadn't looked like much, just a small sign and stairs leading down below the street level. Inside it fulfilled the tour guide descriptions of old English pubs. The ceilings were low with dark, thick beams contrasting with the whitewash. Hard wooden benches, without cushions, ran around the outside wall. The square tables were heavy and made of a similar wood to the ceiling beams. On each table were green, round, cardboard coasters with "Ruddles" or red, square ones with "Old Peculiar". The room was full of the warmth of good beer and good company. They found a table near the false fireplace and chose from the dishes and beer their waiter, the pub's proprietor, had recommended.
"Now that we're here," Margie smiled at her husband of fifteen years, "I almost believe this is really happening."
"To think I almost didn't return that phone call," Dennis stretched his long legs and tried another sip of his beer. Still warm, but he was getting used to it. "What a mistake that would have been. Now, six weeks later, here we are with just the final interview and then we can start packing."
"They must really want you, to fly us over here, business class no less, and put us up in such a nice hotel. I've always dreamed of being one of those people met at the airport by a chauffeur."
"I don't know which will take the most getting used to: the traffic, the roundabouts, or driving on the left," Dennis laughed.
'Hopefully we'll be able to find a place near the train station so we can be in the country. Maybe you can sleep or read on the train. Use it as an unwind time."
"A lot is going to depend on what the train is like. If it's crowded, we may have to live closer in so the trip doesn't stress me more than the job."
As they ate dinner, Margie thought of all the other things she had seen. There were the typical tourist things, like the Houses of Parliament, the treats in the Food Hall at Harrods, the red-coated guards at Buckingham Palace, and the pigeons at Trafalgar Square. Then there had been the little things, like the switches on the electrical outlets, the towel warmers in the bathroom, and the teapot and cookies on the dresser in their hotel room. And then there had been the accents, both those that were wonderfully elegant and refined and those that they couldn't understand at all. Living here was going to be fun.
"What was your favorite thing today?" Margie asked. "I think mine was the ducks we saw as we left the airport. They were just peacefully swimming on those streams with all the hustle and bustle of Heathrow going on around them. I think the girls would like them, too."
"I think my favorite was the red, double-decker buses. They are just so much what makes London London."
After their meal they sat a little longer. Partly they were enjoying the atmosphere, but mostly they discovered they were too tired to get up. "What time tomorrow is your interview?" Margie asked.
"Someone is picking me up at the hotel at 9:00. What about you? What will you be doing all day?"
"I'm meeting with someone from the relocation service, I think the name is Hugh Parker, or something like that. We're going to look at the schools and some of the things about life over here. I hope we'll visit some stores out in the suburbs and a library.'
Dennis took a final swallow of his beer and began checking the denominations of the money in his pocket. Leaving the appropriate coins on the table, he started to stand up. "We'd better be going then. I need some sleep so I'll be able to dazzle everyone tomorrow."
The next morning, Dennis was picked up in the hotel lobby by Nick Anderson, the company's head of operations and the person he would be working directly under. Margie had an extra cup of coffee and then got ready for her meeting. The day had dawned gray and a cold wind was blowing. With any luck the rain would hold off until after she had returned to the hotel later that afternoon. Of course, things would go well with Dennis and the job would be his. The company wouldn't have paid so much for this trip if they hadn't been so sure they wanted to hire him. This last interview was just a formality.
At 9:30, exactly on schedule, the phone rang. "Hello, Mrs. Finchly? This is Mrs. Hughes-Parker from the Welcome to Britain company." The voice on the phone was soft spoken. Her vowels were clipped and there was no mistaking her "o" for "a" like with many American accents.
"Oh, hi," Margie replied. "I'm ready and really looking forward to this. I'll be right down."
"Super. I'll be sitting near the lifts."
Margie made a final check of her hair, picked up her handbag and the room key, and pulled the door to behind her. As the elevator door opened, she was glad she had chosen a nice skirt and sweater. Sitting across from the doors was a woman in her late thirties wearing a tailored print skirt and a blue blazer. Everyone seemed more formal here than at home.
"Mrs. Hughes-Parker?" Margie said as she got closer to the woman. "I'm Margie Finchly."
"Yes. So nice to meet you. Mrs. Finchly," the woman stood and extended her hand. "Are you enjoying your stay in London?"
"Very much. It's hard to believe I might be living here soon."
Mrs. Hughes-Parker outlined her planned itinerary as they walked out to her green Audi parked just around the corner from the hotel's main entrance. They drove out of the city to one of the outlying towns. Their first stop was the local state school. Margie kept calling it the public school, but Mrs. Hughes-Parker kept correcting her that in England public schools were tuition based rather than tax based. The stone building looked like it had been built at least one hundred years ago. Remembering the pub the night before and the difference between exterior grime and interior warmth, Margie followed her guide into the school. The corridors were light tile and were showing the wear of feet. Their footsteps echoed along the stillness as they went into the headmaster's office. She felt that here, at least, the cold exterior was mirrored in the interior and not a place she would like to send her girls.
Throughout the day, Margie became more and more discouraged. The comfort and openness she took for granted at home were not here. To run errands, it was necessary to park in a lot at one end of town and walk to individual stores on several streets rather than getting everything in one place. Most of the same goods and services she was accustomed to were available here, there was just more work demanded of her to get them. They had also visited one of the large grocery chains and she was astonished by the high prices. She had thought the prices in London were high because it was downtown London, but out here things were expensive as well.
A drizzle began to fall as they began their trip back to the hotel. Margie tried to keep up her end of the conversation, but she couldn't lose the feeling of depression. The city looked dirtier and more congested than it had in the bright sunshine the day before.
Margie had a hot bath and a nap and found some of her pleasure at the prospect of moving returning. It was just the rain and the unexpected little things she had seen. Things here were just different. After all, that is why the company wanted her to come. Dennis was tired but happy when he returned. The job was everything he had been told it was and more. He had met Bob Shepard, a fellow computer wizard he had known in cyberspace for a long time and who had also been recruited by the same headhunter. Bob had nothing but good things to say about the people they would both be working for and how much he liked living in London.
Between the now steadily falling rain and jet lag catching up on them, Dennis and Margie decided to have a quiet dinner in the hotel. It wasn't until they were waiting for their dessert that Dennis finally stopped talking about how great the job was and asked Margie how her day had been.
"A little disappointing," she replied. "Things looked cold and depressing."
"Well, it was a dark day. I imagine if you see the same places again in the sunshine you'd like them better."
"You're probably right. All the stores were on a dreary pedestrian mall rather than the shopping malls I'm used to."
"We'll have an early night and tomorrow we'll go look at some houses. The real estate agent called while I was in with Bob. We decided that you and I should meet her at the train station in Bromley, it's about as long of a commute as I want to make. We can take the subway from the office and the train out, just to see what it will be like, and then look at the houses fairly close to the station."
"Sounds like a good idea."
"And then tomorrow night we meet Nick and Lester for dinner. Bob said they made the offer to him at the dinner and hinted that they wanted his answer ASAP."
"So soon! Do we really have to decide immediately?"
"What's to decide? Bob said the money was what the headhunter promised and the job's great. Unless you have decided you don't want to live here, I don't see any reason not to accept."
"I'm just not sure. It's all so different from what I had imagined," Margie said.
"You'll feel better tomorrow when we find a nice house." Dennis signed the check and had the cost of the meal added to their room bill.
The next morning was gray but a little warmer. Dennis and Margie took a black London cab to the office. It was a tall, glass building overlooking the Thames. In the courtyard was a garden with several modern sculptures and a triangular fountain shooting jets of water at least 20 feet in the air. Inside the lobby you could see the dark blue carpet highlighting the mural behind the receptionist. There were a few more sculptures inside surrounded by comfortable leather chairs and creating small conversation areas.
Following the directions Nick had given him yesterday, Dennis led the way to the Underground station. Margie looked with disgust at the trash along the stairs and the street musicians and panhandlers inside the subway system. When they changed to a regular train, things were cleaner and more comfortable. Both of them had trouble understanding the next station announcements due to the combination of the driver's accent and the poor quality of the sound system.
Once they arrived at the station, they found Mrs. Brighton in the snack room, as arranged. "Let's see if we can find you a nice house, then. You told me yesterday that you were looking for a four-bedroom house with a garden. Is that right?" Dennis and Margie agreed that those were the basic requirements, although Margie indicated the wish for a large yard with a preference for at least an acre.
The first house they drove up to was an old house on a narrow side street about a five-minute drive from the station. "This is a semi-detached, very close to shopping, with off street parking for four cars and a large, private garden in the rear." Mrs. Brighton had explained as she pulled into one of the four off-street parking places. It wasn't quite what Margie expected, but she had moved often enough to know that every area was a little different in appearance; it was the way the house felt inside that mattered. Inside was not better. The rooms were smaller than she was used to and she was having trouble placing her furniture in her mind. Her formal dining room table could probably fit into the dining room, but here was no way her hutch would fit as well. The kitchen was small and the refrigerator, washer, and dryer all fitted under the kitchen counter. A pleasant surprise was this wonderful linen closet called an airing cupboard where your towels and sheets stayed warm and fresh. For a "large garden", Margie felt the yard was too small. "This was just one house, we're bound to see something better," she thought.
The next house wasn't much better, according to Margie's standards. The house itself was possibly acceptable, but the back yard was smaller than her vegetable garden back home. Although described as "detached", the side yards were only a yard or two wide. "I was really looking for something with a couple of acres of land rather than a small yard," Margie said as they returned to the car.
In all, they looked at six houses within a ten-minute drive of the train station. Dennis was pleased with all but one, the entire yard had been turned into a flower garden and there wasn't a speck of grass. Margie, on the other hand, hadn't liked any of them. They were all too close together, too dark, or too small. When she thought of being cooped up in them on rainy days or during the long dark hours of the English winter, she nearly cried.
Back at the hotel, Dennis and Margie cuddled on the bed before they had to get ready for their important dinner. "This is going to be great. Lady Luck is definitely looking out for us," Dennis kissed his wife's forehead. "I don't know of anything that will keep us for accepting this and being very happy."
Margie lay quietly with her thoughts. She didn't want to move here. There wasn't any one thing she could put her finger on that bothered her the most, just a lot of little things. She sat up. 'No, I don't want to move here," she stated flatly.
"What!" Dennis sat straight up and stared at his wife. "I thought you really loved it. Why the sudden change?"
"I told you last night I wasn't sure but you weren't listening to me. You were on such a high from the interview. Today just clinched it for me. I don't want to move here. I feel like I'm moving backwards instead of forwards."
"How can you call more than tripling my current salary a step backwards?" Dennis couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Did you get a good look at those houses today? For double what we paid for our house back home, we can get one that is only slightly smaller and has neighbors so close you can shake hands through the bedroom windows. Some of our furniture won't fit, the appliances are too small, and there aren't any screens on the windows."
"That was just one area. If we take a different train, we could be in a more country-like setting."
"I went to a different area yesterday and it was much the same. No, unless you are willing to travel farther on the train, I don't see how we can be out where there is enough space to breathe. And I don't really want you to have a longer commute because you'll be gone so long and the girls and I will almost never see you."
"Actually, I was thinking about looking closer in. After the trip this morning, I was thinking of finding a place actually in London. This job is going to be pressure enough. I don't need the hassles of train schedules and crowds as well."
"Live in the city itself!" Margie shouted. "No! You only care about what you want and what you have to deal with, never what I have to deal with. Since we've been together we have moved four times. Not once did you ask if I wanted to move or if I was happy. I never complained, I just dealt with things and supported you and your career. But not this time! I'm tired of being the one who has to sacrifice my happiness to make you feel good."
When she was finally quiet, she noticed that Dennis had gotten up and moved to the chair opposite her. His spoke to her as you would to a small child who was upset about losing its first tooth, "It's just all the stress from the trip and not knowing if we're going to get this job after all the time and effort. I'm sure that once we're here, you'll get used to things and really like it here. Besides, it's not just a wonderful opportunity for me, think about the girls and what a great experience they will have living in another country. Don't let a couple of houses you didn't like ruin this for everyone."
Margie wasn't backing down. "It's not just the houses. It's the traffic and the roundabouts and the food and the warm beer and the weather and the dark, little stores. Between taxes and the huge prices for things, I wonder how much of that wonderful salary we'll actually be able to keep and save? I won't get used to it. Do you remember Washington? I hated it the first day we were there and I still hated it when we left."
Dennis was quiet for a minute. When he spoke, anger had taken over. "Tell you what, when they make the offer, I'll tell Nick and Lester that I would like the job but it's up to you. You can explain to them why you're turning down a great opportunity for everyone else in the family. You can tell them that you care more about yourself than the rest of us. Thanks for the free trip to London but you didn't really want to move in the first place."
Margie stood up. "I see. One of us has to sacrifice themselves to the wishes of the other and, naturally, it has to be me. Not this time!" She stomped into the bathroom, slammed the door, and collapsed onto the floor crying.
Ten minutes later, her tears shed, Margie began to calm back down. There was a gentle knock on the door and a quiet "Honey?" She splashed some cold water on her face before opening the door.
Dennis stepped in and put his arms around her. "I'm sorry. If you don't want to move here, I won't accept the job. I love you and want you to be happy."
"I love you, too. I don't want to make you unhappy either and I don't want us to always live with the regret that we didn't take the job."
"Tell me what you want me to tell Nick and Lester."
"I survived Washington. I can survive London. Tell them yes."
