In the morning, I was supposed to get up at 7 AM to go play Ultimate Frisbee in Canada Water. Now, this did not happen, and I'm still a bit in denial with myself about why. Was it because I was still getting over this cold and cough, and tired from being out late the night before? Or was it because I was secretly hoping that the Tall South African might call in the morning and we could catch up? When he didn't, I was annoyed with myself for being one of those girls who waits around for boys to call. He did finally call at 1:30, obviously wanting to hang out after having had a leisurely morning brunch and shopping, but at this point it was too late, as I needed to get going to go play squash with Sophie.
I had a good game with Sophie (although I lost one, for horror!), and so afterwards I called the Tall South African to see where he was at and what he was up to. Had a brief chat with him while I walked along Pall Mall, but he was distracted and not paying attention (making me wonder why he answered the phone in the first place?) so I probably shouldn't have bothered. As it was, all I was really talking to him about was the fact that I had less than 40 minutes to make it home, change, and be back out again to meet some friends in Covent Garden at 6 PM. Who didn't have cell phones (as they were coming over from the US). So I had to be on time. And I was still completely sweaty after my squash game. Why do I always try to pack too much in?
Somehow, by a minor miracle, I did manage to arrive in Covent Garden just a few minutes after 6 PM, hopefully looking even halfway presentable. The friends I was meeting were a sorority sister of mine from my undergrad days and her husband. The husband had been over in the UK on a business trip, and his wife (my friend) decided to tag along.
I had arranged to meet them in Covent Garden because I figured it was the best area of town to tour at night, and so took them on a walk through Covent Garden, down to Trafalgar Square (where we admired the fountains, the National Gallery, and the Olympics countdown clock), then I took them up through the Theatre District and Leicester Square, in through Chinatown, and up into Soho. Once in Soho, we found a good spot for dinner at Cote (a nice brasserie that I know of, that always had good food at reasonable prices), and had a good time catching up with them over dinner. I was reminded of why I like these friends, for unlike the frustrating conversations I've been stuck with when chatting to some of my female friends lately, this one ranged over politics, healthcare, and life in the US and UK in fascinating ways.
Admittedly the one topic I had a bit of difficulty with, was the last time I saw this friend, she had been six months pregnant. And then tragically, in her 8th month, the baby died in utero and was stillborn. They named him and had a funeral, and I sent a sympathy card at the time, but now that it was months later, I found myself at an absolute loss for how to address the elephant in the room, that they SHOULD have a six-month old baby right now, but instead were on holiday in London. In the end, I just left it as an elephant in the room, because I had no idea how to address it. It never came up directly, but I kept finding myself in a panic when we'd be talking about the NHS and I'd find myself talking about maternity leave, and then thinking, "Aaaah! No! Stop talking about that! Different topic!" Seriously, I could not believe how frequently I just kept stumbling into talking about babies or pregnancy or things like that...
At dinner, although the husband and I split a bottle of wine, my friend didn't drink. It made me wonder, but of course I didn't ask. Who knows if the extra weight around her middle is just left over from the previous pregnancy, stress weight, or perhaps even an attempt to try again, but I just didn't ask. I just hope that people realise when I don't ask, it's not out of a lack of concern, but it's because I figure if people want to talk about things, they'll let me know. I just didn't want to stick my foot in it. I wish there was some way however to tell people, "I think about you all the time and your loss, so don't think I don't bring it up because I don't care, but I sometimes wonder if you just want to be on vacation and not think about it."
They insisted on paying for my dinner at the end of the meal, which I thought was incredibly nice of them, as a way of saying thank you for being their tour guide. I then, in an effort to finish my job as "good tour guide", promised to take them to the London equivalent of Times Square, the lights of Picadilly Circus. They seemed to enjoy that, and then we walked back to Oxford Circus, completing our late-night tour of London. Their hotel happened to be on my same Tube line, so we traveled home together, exchanging kisses at their stop, and with promises that hopefully we will see each other again soon, in one country or another!
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