The next few days passed without a hitch. Sadie spent her mornings and afternoons exploring the various nooks and crannies of Canterbury. She paid her respects to its wizened churches and land marks, including the Cathedral and St. Augustine’s abbey. She even found herself taking a tour through the Canterbury Tales Wax Museum. Her new found skill of window shopping came in handy when surrounded by such an array of foreign shops. For lunch she’d stop by a café or a fish and chips stand. And as the sun began to set, Sadie would make her way back to the Pettigrove Bed and Breakfast, where she’d dine with Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrove for dinner. At the moment she was their only guest, so the couple had extended an invitation to their table each evening, which Sadie had gladly accepted. Eating with the Pettigroves kept her from spending too much of her decreasing funds, and kept her from having to be hit on at a pub, where she most likely would have eaten.

The Pettigrove’s were good company; they’d entertain Sadie with stories of their long lives, their children, and their friends. Sadie in turn would talk about growing up in Boston, and her father’s restaurant. Every once in awhile there was mention of the Laramie’s, even Ezra’s name was thrown in once or twice. When ever this occurred Sadie’s heart sank for a moment, but then Mr. Pettigrove’s hearty laugh would fill the room at one thing or another, and she would quickly recover.

At the end of the week, Sadie was ready to completely move to Canterbury and stay for the rest of her life. Even though she’d only seen a small part of it in the short time she’d been there, she felt it had welcomed her the way someone welcomes a new neighbor. She loved walking through the old cobbled streets, wrinkled slightly like the pages of a beloved book after numerous pleasurable re-reads. She wanted nothing more then to be able to walk around forever and take it all in.

Occasionally she’d sit on the edge of a fountain that sat in the middle of the square and just observe. She’d let the wind ripple past her face carrying the smell of fish and chips, tea time, and Italian food, which was quite popular. School children in their crisp plaid uniforms would walk in clusters past her, then would come the mothers with their baby strollers, the old man with his dog, the business women out to lunch, and the street vendors standing by their carts, peddling anything one could ever desire. Couples would walk hand and hand, seeming so happy. When Sadie saw them, she’d feel a similar loneliness that she did those occasional moments at dinner, but she’d then she’d shake it off. Maybe, Ezra had been the greatest guy she had ever met, maybe there was a part of her that looked out the window every night and wished he would be thinking of her at that very moment. But Ezra wasn’t who she had come for, love, wasn’t what she had come for. Was it? No, she understood; and she would close her eyes and turn over so she wasn’t facing the window, or shake her head when she realized she’d been sitting on the fountain staring into space, daydreaming. No, she had come to pull away from the life she’d been forced into living for 18 years; she was here to live for awhile without those kinds of complications.

Unfortunately, Sadie’s Canterbury life wasn’t without its own obstacles. By the end of the week, when she’d paid her first bill to Mrs. Pettigrove, Sadie realized that she couldn’t continue living the way she was without making some sort of money. If she continued living at the bed and breakfast and exploring the town, she’d be out of money in two weeks, and she didn’t want to go home that quickly.

On Monday morning, Sadie woke early, showered, and put on one of her more formal outfits, tweed trousers and a ruffled white oxford top. Her clearest memory of the outfit was from her first day of work at Luña.

It was the beginning of her sophomore summer and her father had decided that early work experience was “beneficial”. So there she was in her father’s office at the back of the restaurant getting briefed.

“Well Sadie, here you are, your first day of work. I’m very proud of you and I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.” He gave her a pat on the back. “Now you’ll be working as hostess, remember to use your manners and be polite. Gretchen will be here if you have any questions.” He motioned to one of his employees who gave Sadie a sour look.

It wasn’t that her father was being outwardly belittling; he was just out to control her life as usual, deciding any move she would make, and treating her like a child along the way.

Sadie attempted to stay optimistic, but she didn’t set her expectations very high. She had to be realistic. What were the odds of getting a job, without a student, worker, or temporary visa? She could show all of her potential employers her passport, but that wouldn’t do much, at most it would prove that she really was Sadie Nolen, and hadn’t in fact stolen someone’s identity. She hoped that by some chance, she’d bump into serendipity and find someone who would give her a job and pay her under the table. Of course she was not yet to the point where she needed a job like a flower needs water in a drought, but the idea of frugal to the point of insanity was also fairly taunting.

Having little experience applying for jobs, because they had already been pre determined by her father back in Boston, Sadie didn’t know what to expect. She thought that her best bet would be to look for jobs in restaurants and cafes, or clothing boutiques.

With the hope of finding a way to keep herself fed, without having to return to her Bostonian fortress of solitude, and a smile promising qualification for any sort of job freshly sewn to her face, Sadie was off. She knew that the first step would be to scout out the establishments that wanted her. She would much rather respond to a “help wanted” or “Now hiring” sign than, like in a relationship with only one sided love, beg to be wanted, when there was no one who could satisfy the position.

She decided not to be picky, if an eatery claimed to have to best cow gizzard pie, but had positions available, she’d hold her breath to avoid the smell, and march triumphantly in to pick up an application. It was all about giving chances, if Sadie expected anyone to give the rich quite possibly rude and arrogant American girl a chance, then they deserved the same.

By the end of the afternoon, Sadie found herself in the coffee shop she’d found on her second day in Canterbury. It had called to her from across the street and welcomed her in with its delicious floury smells mixed with the spice of coffee beans. She now sat at the table she had claimed as her own, it was pushed up against the big aged window with panes as big as serving plates. From this roost she could watch the people outside go about their daily lives and make stories for them pretending she knew where each of them was going and what was on their mind. Her coffee cup was swallowed up by a pile of twelve unorganized applications. She’d filled out about half of them but would always stop when it asked for her address and phone number. She wondered if she could just put down the street number of her bed and breakfast, but she knew that even if someone hired her, once it came to paying time, the fact that she had no visa would keep the check from being deposited. Her optimism had begun to fade at her third stop. She had walked past a clothing store whose latest look seemed to be ethnic prints. The front window sported plastic mannequins draped in elephant and tree laden breezy dresses, and the ever popular sign. Instead of eagerly running up to get an application form right away, Sadie browsed until the clerk; a bobbed, frighteningly skinny girl slumped lazily behind the vinyl counter raised an eyebrow her way.

“May I help you” The sales girl sassily asked through her façade of boredom.

“I-I’m looking for a job” Sadie staggered, caught off guard by the tone of her emaciated observer.

The girl gave her the once over with her heavily eyeliner-ed eyes, Sadie saw the assessment of her worth being calculated, and then came the smirk.

“We’re not hiring” Skinny scoffed.

“But, the sign outside says…” Sadie gestured in the direction of the display window.

“Let me clarify” The sales girl’s eyes narrowed as she straightened up, “We’re not hiring you.” Sadie let her hand drop, embarrassed, but determined not to be made a fool out of, she began.

“Well…Well I…” But the words didn’t come and it was too late for the sales girl had already turned her attention to one of the Vogues that was piled dismissively on the counter.

Sadie turned on her heel, horrified, leaving the safari of dresses and amused sales girl behind her. It was then that Sadie returned to the solace of her café where she now found herself jobless, coffeeless, and without a clue as of what she was going to do. She could call Ezra; beg him to welcome her back into his arms, spend the rest of her trip by his side, exploring every secret of London that only a local would know. But that was desperate and rash. Of course she wanted Ezra, as a starved sales girl craves for a hunk of cheese, but returning to him wouldn’t prove anything of consequence. It would show that she Sadie, could not be independent, and had no endurance or will power, it would only prove her parents and Sam right, and that was certainly not what she had traveled thousands of miles and cut herself off from Ezra for. Defeated and suddenly exhausted, Sadie decided it would be best to return to the peaceful confines of her current residence.

Mrs. Pettigrove smiled kindly, as Sadie entered the sun filled foyer where she was sorting a stack of bills and receipts at the front desk. Noticing the frustrated expression engraving frown lines in Sadie’s forehead, Mrs. Pettigrove put down the customer log she’d been skimming, and carefully made her way to her only house guest. “What is it dear? What’s caused you to look so brassed up?” Her voice was smoothly soothing, evidence of the many years of experience she had comforting her upset children and grandchildren after a bad day or a fit.

Sadie let the calm spread before she spoke. “I need a job, but without a visa it’s impossible. And at one store I was even refused an application before I’d asked for one. And if I don’t get a job I’ll have to go home, but I can’t go back, I-I never want to go back to that-that hell.” She was surprised by the fierceness of her tone, but soon hot angry tears were spilling slowly down her face, carrying her carefully applied makeup with them. Mrs. Pettigrove took her cue and gently persuaded Sadie into an embroidered chair, leaving her side only for a second to retrieve a chair for herself. As soon as she pulled her chair close enough, Mrs. Pettigrove had her arm around Sadie gently allowing her to rest her head on her experienced shoulder. Sadie shuddered with tears, letting them stream onto her surrogate comforter’s crisply pressed blouse. She knew that the tears were not just about the job search, or even Ezra, finally the emotions she had suppressed for so long so that she could stay strong, and leave her family, had become too strong for her heart and eyelids to hold back.

When Sadie finally felt like she couldn’t cry any longer She lifted her head from the shoulder, noticing for the first time that Mrs. Pettigrove had been stroking her hair in the way that her mother used to when she was a small child, before she’d stopped being the ideal Nolen daughter.

“There there dear, it’s healthy to have a good cry every now and then. Now cheer up, don’t you worry, things always have a funny way of working themselves out when you least expect it.” She gave Sadie a last pat on the leg before she got up to prepare dinner, leaving Sadie time to steady her breathing and then go wash her face in privacy.

Once she’d climbed the wooden stairs to her room, out of sight of the kind Mrs. Pettigrove, Sadie felt a hot blush of anger and embarrassment splash her face.

No, her thoughts yammered through her head, I have to stop crying over every crappy little thing. I had to leave my family, I had to leave Ezra, I have to find a job, I can’t go home now. A new wave of panic jolted Sadie from her attempted optimistic state. Who am I kidding? How am I ever gonna get a fucking job here?

Sadie hurriedly unlocked the door to her room, trying to escape from the pleasantness that radiated through the bed and breakfast, the fading sun reflecting through the delicate lace curtains, lingering as if waiting for an invitation dinner. Once she’d managed to unlock the door, fumbling with the old skeleton key, she had to push it with all her might. When she’d left she hadn’t noticed the pile of clothes that had begun to pile up in front of the door way. Making a mental note to throw them elsewhere in the morning, Sadie stumbled into the room and collided purposely with the bed, she landed face first on the lavender smelling pillows, swinging her feet, still laced up in their Keds sneakers, onto the bed.

She didn’t know how long she laid there seething in her own thoughts of hatred, unspeakably angry at her parents and what they’d done to make her leave, but even more than that, frustrated at herself for what she’d gotten herself into. This was not what she’d imagined as she drove down the continual rivers of asphalt along the I-whatever, in her comfortable red sports car. She’d felt noble at the time, a rebel with a cause. But had she really had a true reason for leaving, or was she just, as she knowingly was now, being over dramatic? What had she been thinking? Of course her life had been unfair how cliché but wasn’t her life the one everyone was jealous of? But none of that had ever mattered to her. Sadie remembered her mother calling her spoiled when she complained about having to go to another monotonous formal gala on behalf of another nameless charity, and her father calling her ungrateful when in middle school she had asked to be transferred into public school because at least there students worried more about surviving the next exam and less about surviving the day they’d accidentally paired Lacoste with Marc Jacobs, a certifiable emergency. A part of her had always wished that Luña had stayed a small hole in the wall with slight financial troubles and three tired employees, and that Nolen hadn’t become a last name appreciated by the name-dropping crowd.

Was it selfish that Sadie had dreamed of sleeping under JC Penny brand sheets, that every two weeks she could wash herself without the complaints of her mother or the maid? Was it so bad that Sadie had never really wanted any of the glitz and glam that her upper class, Back Bay, Boston life had offered? Not that is wasn’t nice not to have to worry about expenses, to be able to really splurge to make amends after a horrible day. But after awhile the glam life of parties and having any material possession she could dream of at her fingertips became boring and tiresome. She had reasons for leaving, but she had repressed these reasons, and maybe one day when she reached inside herself and unlocked the armored box she kept them hidden in, these reasons would seem petty. But not now, the box would stay locked and her frustrations with her old life would remain intact. Either way, she decided, even if her first reasons for leaving would turn out to be bogus, she could rest on the fact that maybe her real reason for leaving was just to get away. After dreaming about it for so long, she had finally been able to escape, for herself.

Sadie had no idea how long she had laid in a heap on her bed before she’d drifted into a soundless sleep. She hadn’t stirred when Mrs. Pettigrove had tapped on the door to announce dinner, and finding it unlocked had peered in to find Sadie deeply, but not quite peacefully asleep. Being the motherly women that she was, Mrs. Pettigrove had removed Sadie’s shoes and draped a blanket over her, without disturbing her.

Sadie did know that during the night something had changed within her. She had made the unconscious decision to stop making pretend attempts at surviving, to stop succumbing to the jumps to dramatic conclusions that she had inherited from her mother, and to finally unlock her mental suitcase that she always escaped to when things didn’t work. All she had to do was try.

* * * *

Sadie woke up with a crick in her neck and reddened imprints along her skin where the seams of her stiff clothes had settled for the night. Despite her discomfort, she had a feeling today would be different, it didn’t matter that she had thought that about many of her days recently, this time it would be true.

She dressed simply, a green polo shirt and a khaki skirt accompanied by brown suede flats. This outfit brought back no memories, good or bad. She had worn it before of course, but nothing significant had ever happened in it.

Insignificant I can work with, she smiled, Insignificant is just what I need.

After an apology to Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrove for missing dinner, Sadie was out the door, barely hearing the clink of the welcome bell behind her. The air was crisp this morning; it had been washed and hung out to dry. Not quite dry yet the blanket of air had a damply cool spot. This lifted Sadie’s spirits, the one thing she’d always loved about Boston was its cool weather, this cold snap wasn’t uncommon for Canterbury, but still significant and welcome to Sadie.

It was still early and most of the shops that crowded the town square and lined the cobbled streets, were not open for business. In her hurry to get out the door and find the face of her future employers, Sadie had forgotten about breakfast. She wasn’t hungry, even with her newly found ambition, nerves still clawed at her stomach. But a cup of coffee wouldn’t hurt; she could certainly use the rush the caffeine would unleash upon her system. She turned on her heel and let her feet take her to her corner café. It wasn’t much of an accomplishment, but Sadie took pride in the fact that in the few short days she’d spent in Canterbury, she’d memorized how to get to her café from anywhere in town.

She turned the corner, laughing at herself. And then froze. That was it, it had been right in front of her this entire time, it had practically been presented to her on a silver platter. The Café. Of course! She could work at the Café! She had practically memorized the menu and recognized nearly all the employees by name; she had come here almost twice a day since her arrival. Why hadn’t she thought of it sooner? Without missing a beat Sadie practically skipped across the awakening street, only pausing to open the door and avoid crashing into a flustered woman in hair curlers carrying a box of freshly iced-pink cupcakes.

Sadie approached the counter in her usual fashion, except today her face held an excited smile, instead of her usual sour opening expression.

“Hey Sadie!” Greeted a generously tattooed man with thick framed glasses, whose apron half covered a cotton shirt supporting a band Sadie had never heard of. “What will it be today, love?”

“I’m thinking a caramel latte extra foam today Pete!” She tried to mask her excitement with a grin.

“You seem pretty chuffed about something this morning” He encouraged, smiling as he rang up Sadie’s order.

“Oh Pete, I just had a great idea!” She couldn’t contain herself any longer. “You know how I need a job to be able to stay here, but it’s next to impossible because I don’t have a worker’s visa. But what if I worked here? I’m practically the café’s most valued customer, and I’m a hard worker. And you know me Pete, you all know me well enough to see that I’m not a lunatic. I won’t steal, I won’t spit in the food, I won’t even complain about bad tips. Just let me have an application and I’ll come work here at the café!” Sadie was so wrapped up in her fantasy plans that she didn’t notice Pete’s face fall, his smile disappearing completely.

“Sadie love, you know that you are a valued customer, and all of us” he nodded to his fellow co-workers, busy with orders from other customers. “Love when you come in, you give us all such a laugh, and you never return your orders even if we get something wrong, although that never happens when I’m in charge!” Pete managed to feign a smile but it didn’t show in his eyes. “But Sadie, we’re a small business, we have nearly too many employees for payroll as it is. And blimey, no worker’s visa, that’s a big deal. Don’t get me wrong Sadie if we had room and you had a visa I’d hire you in a snap. Please understand.” Pete gauged her reaction with pleading eyes. In the many visits Sadie had taken to the Café, she had gotten to know Pete the best; he was always at the cash register the times of day she would come. They’d formed a friendly hinting at playfully flirtatious relationship, but even despite all of this, Sadie appreciated Pete especially for his honesty. When she had come in the day before, after being rejected from so many places Pete had greeted her from his post at the register opening with “Blimey Sadie, you look like shit. What happened to you?”

This time wasn’t any different, Pete was being apologetically truthful. She believed what he said, if he could, he would hire her. That was nice, but Sadie still felt defeated, she had been so convinced in those five minutes of epiphany that she had found what she had been looking for. She took the mug holding her latte and went and sat at the most secluded table that she could find in the cottage of a café.

For a few brief moments Sadie found herself in the position she’d assumed so many times in the past few days; sitting by herself at a café, staring aimlessly into a cup of coffee. In fact she was so captivated zoning out into the steaming palate of caramel and clouds that it took her a second to refocus her eyes and realize that there was someone standing across the table trying to get her attention.

She stood watching Sadie with an expectant expression on her light face.

“Hello Dear, may I have a chat with you?” The woman asked with a pleasant laugh in her voice. Sadie was taken a back and would not have nodded her head in confused allowance, had it not been for the woman’s genuine smile that touched her bright hazel eyes, as if to say “It’s alright you can trust me, I’m nice!” Sadie fascinated, observed the woman as she pulled the chair out from the table and sat down. She was striking, but it wasn’t that this woman was extremely beautiful; of course she wasn’t plain either, but it was something else. Her red tree bark hair feathered out from its shoulder length crop drifting into her face when she sat. Sadie watched her graceful yet experienced fingers understandingly push the loose ends back behind her ear. From the looks of it she was in her mid thirties with laugh lines that were softer but similar to Claudia’s. That was it, Sadie realized, this woman was so entrancing because of the kind air she gave off, the explanation was simple but there was no other way to put it. This woman’s amiable and accepting expression made you feel comfortable, like she understood all of your problems, and was open for a discussion of whatever you wanted. But who was this woman with the smiling eyes, and how was it that in these few milliseconds Sadie had become attracted and eager to know a complete stranger? As if she could read Sadie’s mind, the woman spoke.

“Oh, you must think I’m completely gormy. How rude of me, I’m Natalie Becker.” She extended her hand nonchalantly as if they were old acquaintances and not complete strangers.

“I’m Sadie Nolen” Sadie shook Natalie’s hand with a bit reluctance. “Have we met?” she asked, already knowing the answer, but unsure of what to say.

“Oh, no, don’t worry about trying to remember if we’ve met. We haven’t of course!” She waved this question off matter-of-factly and then adopted a slightly concerned expression. “Now please don’t think I’m off my trolley when I say this” Sadie only had to assume that Natalie Becker was assuring her that she wasn’t crazy. “But I was listening to your conversation with Pete, and please don’t be put off by what he said, Pete’s a true friend of mine and he would never say anything that was meant to be hurtful, but I’ve also seen you here the last few days looking quite depressed and stroppy. And well I can only assume that you haven’t had much luck finding employment, though you seem to want it. If it wasn’t for your visa you’d be hired in a snap, a smashing girl like you! But what can I say? we Brits can be real prats at times!”

Sadie stared at her with wide confused eyes, not sure what to make of what this enthusiastic woman was saying. But before she knew it, she’d begun again.

“So, Sadie dear, tell me, why is it that you want so badly to employed? I’ve never seen anyone determined enough to have gotten that many applications.” She nodded at the unorganized pile of loose applications stuffed in Sadie’s shoulder bag.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Why do you want a job so much? It’s obvious you’re not from here so you must be on holiday. Why would you want a job while on holiday in Canterbury?”

Sadie tried to think of a better reason, but she didn’t feel like she could lie to Natalie, who did seem legitimately interested. “We’ll I guess you could say that I…ran away from home for the summer?” Her tone made it seem more like a question than an answer. “And I need money to be able to stay.”

“Well I’d really like to hear that story some time” She smiled at Sadie encouragingly. “Though quite unfortunately I have to dash off to work. But before I leave I’d like to offer a bit of a proposal.”

Sadie who had been listening intently shot Natalie an intrigued look.

“You see” She began, gesturing with her hands. “You need a job, and I need a nanny. From my quick observations you seem to be a sweet, honest, and responsible girl. I mean you’ve run away from home and now you’re ripping your hair out looking for a job; and to tell you the truth, I’m a little desperate. You see my old nanny, a nice girl but a bit too spontaneous, just ran off with her fiancé for an on the spot wedding. Well, rather she’s given me a few days notice, and then she’s going to run off for an on the spot wedding. I’m quite happy for her, they make quite a team, but you see this leaves me and my six year old daughter, whose play school’s just let out for summer holiday, nanny-less.” She paused to make sure Sadie was keeping up. “It’s quite a predicament. My point is, I’m offering you a position as my nanny, I can’t pay you peanuts, but you’d come live with us, you’d get your own room, a few days a week off, and of course we’d feed you. My daughter’s name is Lyla, she’s the wisest hunky-dorey, six year old best friend a girl could ask for, and you two would get along smashingly, I can already see it! Oh bugger,” Natalie looked down at her watch. “Well I must be off, but please consider my offer, and know that I don’t usually harass random girls in coffee shops. If you make up your mind give me a ring, it was a pleasure meeting you Sadie!” She pulled a business card out of her purse and handed it to Sadie. Then with a quick wave she turned and left as quickly as she had come.

Sadie sat back in her chair in a mystified daze, letting waves of information from her unbelievable encounter lap against her brain. When she’d regained awareness she stared down at the card she gripped between her fingers.

Natalie Becker

Tree Trunk Books

Work: (01228) 842-1718

Residence: (01228) 954-1934