A Nightingale in Parkleigh Square

Chapter Three

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"E verybody aboard the Christmas Bus! Mind the gap, mind your heads, and mind the beautiful scenery as we drive through the heart of London, ladies and gents — next stop, Trafalgar Square!"

All the ticket holders boarded Plum Pudding Bus No. 3, with Nina in the middle, pushed up against Molly's back, who was scanning her ticket's information for clues. "No assigned seating," she called over her shoulder. "Go up top?"

Nina groaned, but Bradley's eyes lit up. "Yes, absolutely," he said. "This is awesome."

"I can't wait. Trafalgar Square? That's — like Times Square for royals," said Molly going up the stairs to the bus's second level, which was set with tables like the one below, with bus benches facing in like diner-style booths.

With a soft hiss, the bus released its brakes and rolled forward, picking up speed as it merged into the lane's traffic. Nina held onto the window's frame, leaning to peer out at the scenery as it began to roll past. The windows of a nearby restaurant were lit up brightly, with diners upstairs looking out the same way as herself.

"Isn't this adorable? Should we sing Christmas carols or something?" Molly took a photo.

"I'll start," joked Bradley. "'Oh, Christmas tree, oh, Christmas tree' — look there it is." He pointed as they passed by a series of elegant pencil-style trees decorated in blue and white.

"Those are the same colors as the design we drew for the bakery," said Molly, peering out. "Yeah, the exact same blue, I know it on sight. I think we're using those twinkle lights, too."

"You're making me homesick," said Nina, trying not to feel the cold lump of homesickness inside. "Even in the lap of luxury tomorrow, you'll make me miss cheap twinkle lights."

The long plane ride made the thousands of miles between her and home all the more apparent, and she was almost tired and anxious enough about tomorrow to wish she was stringing those lights in the window of a Queens dress shop. Even her laugh didn't stifle it — even having stared at the giant fashion lion in a fancy London street without running away.

"That's the blues after jet lag talking, forget about it," said Molly. "Here, pull one of these." She picked up one of the metallic-wrapped English Christmas crackers on the table. "Everybody else is doing it, so we should, too."

Nina grasped the other end and both pulled at the same time. With a pop , the tube opened, spilling out toys and folded paper.

"I'm the losing end," groaned Nina. Molly unfolded the triangular piece of pink tissue.

"It's a hat," she said. "Is it totally me?" She popped it on her head, a pointy royal crown. "I feel like Kate now. I should make a proclamation."

"Isn't the little Santa charm cute?" said Bradley, picking it up. "Here, let's do another." He held one out to Nina — with another pop , more items tumbled onto the table.

"Having a good time with those, are we?" A waitress placed a decorative two-tiered tray on the table, with deep sides protecting tiny sandwiches cut into star shapes, miniature plum puddings, and fruit tarts. "Here's your tea. Definitely keep the tops on those cups for sipping, we don't want anybody burned."

"We will," promised Nina. The teapot wore a poinsettia-printed cover, and the cups and tops were printed with the same.

"Mint tea for a holly jolly cold night," said the waitress. "The little decanter has mulled wine if you'd rather. That's absolutely an English tradition. If you've never had a good Wassail, this is a good way to have your first taste of spiced Christmas punch in England."

"Like the old carols," said Molly. "Cool, thanks." She sipped some of the tea. "Oh, that's amazing," she said to Nina. "Try some."

"I'm waiting until we pass the next attraction," said Nina. "It might be my only photo chance. Come tomorrow, we'll be swamped with work."

"It's unbelievable, isn't it?" said Molly. "It's the beginning of the Christmas season in one of the world's greatest cities."

"Photo with Big Ben tonight," said Bradley. "How much better can it get?"

"Ummm...not possible?" said Nina.

Molly picked up one of the tarts and tasted it. "Mmm," she said. "I'm definitely trying one of those puddings, I've never had the kind that didn't come in a plastic cup."

"That's not the same thing," pointed out Bradley.

"I know, I know. There's a sprig of holly on top of these, how classy is that?"

"Fancy a spot of ice skating?" said the voice over the P-R. "Come Christmas, Trafalgar is transformed into a wonderland, complete with a frozen pond. Look out, Britain's lion will have some competition with Father Christmas joining the crowd for some roasted chestnuts!"

"Lights," said Bradley, softly.

The square was lit up, and the first decorations of Christmas were already suspended above the lanes, large winged angels with trumpets. Heavenly host had never looked so breathtaking to Nina, as she craned to see more. A greenery stall, a tree market, open air booths with striped awning that were probably for artists and craftsmen to sell ornaments.

"We have to come to the market when it opens," said Molly. "And the tree probably has a ceremonial lighting or something. Maybe the one in Parkleigh Square has one, too, for all we know."

Lights spanned the streets, suspended above by wires. The trumpeting angels, and massive snowflakes in white, with more elegant white lights twinkling around windows and doorways. Crowds were clustered together outside a quaint-looking pub, listening to a man at the head of the group, holding a snowflake-printed umbrella.

"Is that a tour?" Molly pointed. "I think they're following that guy's lead."

"If he has any sort of novelty item in hand, then yes," said a girl sitting two tables away.

Molly twisted her head. "You can tell by that?" she said.

"Tour guides for walking tours in the city usually have some sort of identifier for their customers, and it's usually an umbrella," the girl answered. "You see them everywhere, if there's any site worth visiting. There's one for any theme you can think of. Jack the Ripper, Christmas lights."

"Have you ever been on one?" asked Nina. "Or is that not a thing locals do?" Maybe it was like being a native of her own back yard, stuck on a Staten Island ferry.

The girl laughed. "No, not me," she said. "I'm on this one only because it's the best way to see the lights if you don't have much time during the Christmas season, and my friend swore that if I came I would agree."

"Did your friend abandon you?" asked Nina. Across from the girl was an empty bench.

"She pulled a cracker, then she went down one level to take photos," said the girl, smiling. "She's an aspiring photographer. I only came because I never have time to do anything fun during the Christmas season. Generally, I have projects at work this time of year, it's mad there."

"Where do you work?" asked Molly.

"For an antiquities warehouse. We buy for collectors, for dealers, host auctions, that sort of thing."

"Awesome," said Molly.

"Like Sotheby's?" said Bradley. "But with private brokers, too?"

She laughed. "Sort of," she said. "Name's Lea, by the way." She reached across and shook Molly's hand. "Are you touring the city for the Christmas season?"

"We're window dressers. We're staging the windows at the new Van Stewart branch," said Nina.

"Oh, wow," said Lea. "That's amazing. My boss has been talking about that opening for months now, he has an invitation to it. I think he sold Simone Van Stewart a painting for her new office, and some sculptures from an Italian collector."

"We're a little nervous, it's such a famous brand," said Nina. "We've never done anything that close in scale back in New York."

"You're New Yorkers?"

"Queens," said Bradley. "It's kind of near Manhattan?"

"I've heard of it," smiled Lea. "I've met New Yorkers before, scads of them come to our warehouse."

"Are you an antiques dealer?" asked Molly, impressed.

"No, I'm just in cataloguing. And sometimes I put together lots of excess inventory for sale, but that's as glamorous as my job gets. Sadly, they don't let me broker the Rembrandt sketches or the Picassos."

The voice came over the P-A speakers again. "We'll be rounding the bend shortly to the view of London's most famous landmark just as it chimes strike," the driver reported.

"Here it comes," said Bradley, excitedly, with his camera at the ready. "Okay, everybody in close, on my signal, say 'cheese'."

The selfie with Big Ben featured all of them wearing Christmas crowns, but they removed them for the photo with Westminster Abbey in the background. Lights swirled by, wrapping their glow around famed attractions that would look more familiar by daylight, except for the iconic clock tower. Nina took a photo of a lamppost which seemed fog-shrouded thanks to the glow of its light. A holly wreath hung below.

She lowered her phone. It felt magical, being here in the now. Miles away, the lights of New York were dimmed in bright daylight, with people rushing to lunch and traffic jammed on the circle not far from her office. Right now, it felt like another world.

"Our final stop will bring you near one of London's most classic bakeries, so if you fancy a little more sweetness, try one of the many hand-decorated confections, including their specialty, fruitcake wrapped in colored marzipan," said the driver's voice over the speakers. "If you're seeking postcards, look no farther than the nearby gift shop, which may have the perfect Christmas gift for someone on your list, too."

When the bus came to a halt, Molly nearly lost her teacup, balancing both it and the last of the tarts in one hand. "No, it's not over," she groaned.

"I see the bakery," reported Nina, leaning to look. "Definitely marzipan-covered cakes."

"Come on, Molly, don't dally," said Bradley, feigning a British accent as he poked her in the shoulder. She scowled and gathered up her bag.

"One for the road," she said, taking the last Christmas cracker from the table. "We need it for luck."

"If we need luck, we need more than novelty charms and paper-printed jokes," said Nina, following her down the little stair. Just ahead of them, Lea was preparing to exit. She turned and gave them a little wave. They waved back.

"In case you need a friend in the city whilst you're here," she said. She passed them a business card. "Stop in and see us one day if you have the time."

"Thanks," said Molly. "See you around, I hope."

"Happy Christmas." Lea stepped off. They followed, joining a crowd that was dispersing as soon as it reached the pavement. A few people were going into the little bakery, which had a window scene featuring a snow-covered Big Ben and gilt-lettered pastry gift boxes.

"I guess we should text our ride share," said Molly, taking out her phone.

"Just a minute," said Nina. "I'll be right back." She trotted to the bakery and went inside. Molly's thumb hit the app's button, then she slipped on her gloves.

On their street, the little strip of oversized Christmas bulbs was plugged in, giving off a cheery glow in a mostly-dark neighborhood. Up the street, a door opened, and an Asian woman let in a cat meowing on the steps. The pub's blow mold wreath was aglow, and it was the bright spot in the street with people coming and going under a sign for the Black Beauty.

Molly buttoned her coat around her. "How about a nightcap before we grab our bags and get some sleep?" she said. "One last review of tomorrow's presentation."

"I'm up for it," said Bradley.

"Nina?"

Nina nodded. "Maybe just one," she said. "Tomorrow's a big day."

This was a hangout where mostly regulars visited; Nina could tell by the glances as they walked in that not many tourists must come in off the streets, but Molly didn't seem to notice. She picked a table, taking off her coat and scarf.

"Tonight's toast is on me," she said. "Something small, I know, because we're working here, right?"

"I think we have to be, now that we've seen the place," said Nina, joking. "Measurements alone will take half a day."

"Do we have to come up with the design then and there?" asked Bradley, nervously. "We'll have a development period, won't we?"

"Of course," said Nina. "That's why we're here before the season starts. We'll show them our work, we'll talk about possible themes, then we'll take what we learned and what we've thought of to create the proposal."

"It'll have to be bigger than anything we've ever done," said Bradley. "You and Molly have been doing this awhile, you studied it and stuff, but me — it's all new. I haven't even completed French fabrics. But they must have seen how amazing you were when they saw the photos you submitted to update the dossier."

On the other side of the room, the laughter grew louder, as somebody turned on the jukebox, playing 'Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree.' Everybody seemed to know each other — or maybe they were all part of the darts game that seemed to be the source of all the enthusiasm. Nina felt a little bit lonely for the comfort of the diner down the street from her apartment, with the same guy behind the cash register for decades, and the sign for all-night spaghetti dinners on its door.

"It still amazes me that we were chosen," said Nina. Their work had been great the last few years, but it wasn't as if Skyline had ever noticed before, simply assigning them to the kind of jobs she had expected. Maybe someday a step up would happen — if some fantastic satellite stager had the flu one Christmas.

"Here we are, three nightcaps," said Molly, setting the glasses on the table. "The closest thing to Wassail you can make on the fly in this bar, according to the bloke Teddy who let me badger him into making it."

The publican didn't look too happy behind the bar, so Nina hated to imagine what Molly had said to make him mix these drinks. "Here's to the biggest privilege of our lives," said Molly, raising one. "I still can't believe we're here."

"Privileged doesn't say it all," said Bradley, sounding awed.

"We're going to prove ourselves, because we're brilliant and amazing," said Nina. "Come tomorrow, we'll wow them with our presentation, so they won't be able to wait to see what we have in store for their windows."

"We'll knock their socks off," said Molly. "I already have ideas, and I've only seen the exterior thus far."

"It's magnificent," said Nina. "It would be impossible not to dream about what to do with a space like that."

"As of tomorrow, that's what we'll do," said Molly, grinning.

"To tomorrow, then," said Bradley, raising his glass, and keeping it up this time for the toast. Their glasses clinked together, like a pact.

"Before I forget," said Nina, diving a hand into her purse. She took out a pastry sack and removed a tiny little marzipan-covered cake, decorated with a miniature lion like Trafalgar Square's statue.

"For good luck," she said, breaking it into three pieces. She munched her bite of cake, which was filled with cinnamon and dried fruit, mingling with the lemon and spices from Molly's make-do Wassail.

Someone at a nearby table had noticed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head to the person across, probably about the crazy tourists who had wandered in here. Nina didn't care if they laughed, because tonight was a celebration.