A Fine How Do You Do

Eric settled into his comfortable seat on the coach train to England’s Lake District, content to be alone in the compartment. He’d written a week’s worth of daily weather forecasts in advance for The Altoona Daily News and mailed them to his boss, George, from the airport in Pittsburgh. He had withdrawn all his available cash and purchased a one-way airline ticket to Heathrow. Upon arrival in London he bought a tweed cap, which immediately gave him a newfound sense of identity. He was quite pleased with his accomplishments. Now, feeling tired, he pulled his new cap down over his eyes and drifted off.

Eric was awakened by a large hatbox tumbling down upon him. He heard the words “Pardon, Monsieur,” spoken by an elderly woman with a very deep voice. Eric adjusted his cap and gazed into the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen. His reverie was then disturbed as a lady with two children entered the compartment. They were followed by the conductor saying, “Tickets please.” Eric sat upright and presented his ticket. After some fumbling, the elderly lady, who was wearing an extraordinary large blue hat, found her ticket and became settled with her small dog on her lap. The lady with the two children presented her tickets. Eric pulled his cap down over his eyes and pretended to be asleep. The train departed from the station and was on a smooth track and all was calm in the coach car. Eric raised his cap a bit to look out the window. The shadows were creeping in, which made the scenery look like a lovely painting.

The elderly lady with the beautiful eyes was going through her carrying bag and presented a bottle of Dubonnet. “It is well past tea time, shall we share a little of my Dubonnet and get to know one another? I am Madame Alma Boeld and I live in Ambleside.” She poured herself a traveling cup of Dubonnet and one for Eric. She did not include the lady with two children in conversation nor offer her any Dubonnet. “Now, my dear man, what is your name and are you a tourist visiting our lovely Lake District?” “Well, you could say that. My name is Eric and I am from Altoona.”

“And what do you do in Atlanta?”

“No, not Atlanta, Altoona. I am a newspaper weatherman,” explained Eric.

“Oh, how dreadfully dreary. Cheers to you my dear fellow and may your visit here be more interesting than reporting the weather,” said Alma as she lifted her cup, toasting Eric. “Where are staying once you get where you are going, and where ARE you going?”

“I’m getting off at Oxenholme and hope to find a little inn.”

“Nonsense, Edward, this is the tourist season and every place is booked for months ahead.”

“My name is Eric not Edward.’’

“Of course it is, you silly fellow,” said Alma as she poured a bit more Dubonnet into her traveling cup and refilled Eric’s. The lady with the two children was napping and the two girls were quietly giggling with their hands over their faces. The older child decided to speak up. “I had my twelfth birthday party in London today with my Daddy who lives there now. He used to live with us. He has a maid who needs new clothes and I told Daddy that her clothes were too small for her. We had a super party with a huge cake and a clown who did magic tricks.”

“How exciting. And how old are you now?” asked Eric.

“I just told you that I am twelve now. And how old are you?”

“I was 65 last week, but I did not have a party,” replied Eric.

“Oh my, this is such a cumbersome conversation,” sighed Alma. “Edward, my dear fellow, would you care to come with me and my driver, Nelson? You are most welcome to stay at my home in Ambleside until you move on.”

“My name is Eric, and I think I might like to do that if I won’t be an inconvenience.”

“Oh, for the sake of heaven, life can be one big inconvenience from time to time. That is why new experiences are always so welcome. It is all settled then,” announced Alma.

Eric was overwhelmed and a bit nervous, but smiled and thought his adventure was going particularly well. He was concerned about his clothes, as he had packed only three sporty shirts and two pair of old trousers. He had brought his father’s gold pocket watch and the gold cufflinks left to him in the will, which he planned on selling if his money ran out. He thought that Alma might have a fancy house and he would need some nicer clothes. However, he wanted to hang on to the watch and cufflinks in case he needed the money later on. Well, he thought, he would just spend the night and then move on and get a little job. Eric had read that now, after the recession of 1992, employment was picking up in England.

“Oh look at the dog!” screeched the younger girl. “She has wee’d all over the floor and my Mary-Janes are getting all wet.” The older girl laughed and said, “Look, it is like a dancing puddle, back and forthing.” Alma, who had been catnapping, was awakened by the girls’ voices and dropped her handkerchief in the puddle.

“Oh, Edward dear,” she said, “do scramble quickly and fetch a mop. Sophie dear, come back to Mummy’s lap.” Eric and the dog complied. The older girl leaned over to pick up Alma’s hankie from the puddle but Alma raised her hand and said, “No, no. There are many more where that one came from, so please, dear child, do not disturb it.”

A few minutes later the train pulled into the Oxenholme station, which served Ambleside and other Lake Windermere towns. Passengers descended the steps, landing safely on the platform, except for Eric, who was nowhere in sight. “Well, this is a fine how do you do,” muttered Alma while gathering up her hatbox.