We met him at a pub in the Bayswater area of London. After a day of crying and pleading to go home I finally convinced her that if she wanted anything to eat she was going to have to leave the b & b as I had no intentions of bringing anything back for her.
We had waved good bye to our mother the day before as we left in a cab with the rain falling hard and the realization that we were on our own began to sink in. We were ill-prepared for easy travel as we had packed but just one "bag" between us, an enormous, cow-hide trunk we had purchased in India 3 years before that was better suited for ship travel in the 1800's. Eventually, both handles broke off and a cheap set of wheels were used to haul the monster over cobble-stone streets and curbs and elicited much unwanted attention.
We had taken turns knocking on doors (the one on the sidewalk with the luggage got to hold the only umbrella) until we found a tiny, inexpensive room in the attic of a Victorian row-house. A hand on each handle, we lugged the behemoth up the narrow flights of stairs into our new quarters. Debbie begged to go home but I had saved up all year and wasn't about to let fear take over. I was scared, too, but had to play brave, big-sister. We had been out of the country with our folks many times, as my mother was an international flight attendant and the fares were cheap. But, this was different. Frightening and Exhilarating, Freedom and Adventure.
Hunger struck Debbie after a day and a night of languishing in the room and I suggested we go to a sandwich bar I had seen in my roamings. The decision to eat there would change our lives. Was it fate? I know it was.
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