A Brave Start Read online

  A Brave Start

  By Andrea J. Severson

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Andrea J. Severson

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address: [email protected].

  Cover illustration © 2019 by Lisa Severson

  Cover design by Lisa Severson

  www.andreajseverson.com

  To London, the city that taught me how to dream and how to be brave.

  Table of Contents

  Author’s Note

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Join the Fun!

  About the Author

  Author’s Note

  This book has been a long-term, labor of love. I started writing it after my first visit to London as an adult in late 2010. Like Eleanor, the main character in this book, I had visited London before, as a 9-year-old little girl, and I had very fond memories of that trip. As teen and adult, I developed a love for all things British, including but not limited to Jane Austen, BBC television (especially Doctor Who and Sherlock!), and British chick lit novels. When I returned from that trip, I couldn’t stop thinking about London, so I decided to channel that obsession into something a little more productive, and that’s how this book was born.

  Over the course of several years, and numerous visits back to London, I would work on this book in bits. A few chapters here and there at a time. More than half of it was written on my old 1st generation iPad, using a little Bluetooth keyboard (much like Eleanor uses in the book!). I would write in short sessions before going to teach or on a break between classes while working on my Masters and PhD. I would also work on it during my various trips to the UK. A good portion of this was written while staying for extended trips in London and Oxford in the summers of 2014 and 2015. Every visit provided another layer of detail to add to the locations and new places and elements that I wanted to include. Many of Eleanor’s favorite places to wander, shops, restaurants, and things to do are my own favorites.

  This book is my love letter to London, a city that has come to mean so much to me and a city that has taught me so many lessons about life, love, and being brave. For those of you who have been to London, I hope this book transports you back to London’s bustling streets and lets you relive the magic of the city. For those of you who have never been, I hope this book gives you a small taste of the magic of London and that you fall in love with it, at least a little bit.

  Prologue

  It was an exceptionally beautiful sunny day, especially for spring in London. And on this lovely day, an American family was enjoying an afternoon in Hyde Park. A mother, a father, and their little girl with long brown hair with strands of red that lit up like fire in the sunlight. They were in London for a series of conferences where the father was presenting his research results. But today, there was no conference, just a family, enjoying time as a family in the park.

  As she walked through the park with her parents the little girl was blissfully happy. They walked by the Peter Pan statue and her father started to chase her around it in an impromptu game of tag. She shrieked with laughter as she tried to avoid being tagged, but was eventually caught by her mother who swept her off her feet as she giggled. Her father pulled both of them, mother and daughter, into a giant hug.

  “My two favorite ladies. What would I do without you two?” He asked.

  The little girl watched as her father kissed her mother, and wrapped in her parents embrace she felt so loved and so safe. They continued walking, making their way to the giant pond in Kensington Gardens, which was surrounded by ducks and geese and swans. Her father began making up silly stories about the birds and gave them funny names as they passed each one, causing the little girl to giggle hysterically as the sun sparkled on the water.

  They got ice cream from a stand near the pond and sat down in the grass in the shade of a large oak tree. As they sat there eating their ice cream, with the sun filtering down through the leaves of the tree, with her parents sitting on either side of her, the little girl thought to herself, what a perfect day…

  Chapter 1

  The blinding and hot Arizona sun streamed through her window as Eleanor snapped wide awake from her dream as the alarm on her phone went off beside her on the nightstand. She reached out and swiped it off the table, silencing it in the process, and then smothered it beneath her pillow.

  “Cursed thing,” she grumbled.

  6 a.m. is early by most standards, but for Eleanor it was pure torture. She’d never been a morning person. But these days she didn’t really have a choice. In her job as an adjunct instructor at her local community college, Eleanor took any classes they would throw her way, no matter how far from her main field . . . or the time of day the class met. Which is how she found herself dashing back and forth between her bedroom and bathroom trying to make herself look presentable and gather all her materials for the day.

  “Good morning sweetheart,” she heard her mother call up the stairs.

  “‘Morning!” she shouted back.

  In her room, she quickly put on a dark blue pencil skirt and a lightweight white cotton shirt. She pulled a bright pink cardigan from her closet and tossed it in her tote bag. She would need it later in the classroom. Even though it was still early morning, it was also late April in Arizona, which meant that it was already a very warm 80-something degrees outside. Eleanor hopped into the bathroom, slipping a pair of navy blue ballet flats on along the way. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she finished putting on what little makeup she wore, just a bit of blush, some eyeliner and mascara, and a swipe of lip gloss. She then wound her long, dark brown hair up into a bun near the top of her head. Stepping away from the mirror she gave herself a glance over and frowned slightly, dissatisfied as usual with what she saw in the reflection.

  Individually, she liked each of her features, large blue eyes, a perfectly average nose that wasn’t too big or too small, full lips that had no need of fillers, but for some reason all combined, her face seemed boringly normal. Her body was the same, normal but maybe a larger than most. Comparison to others can be brutally easy for many women like her, but it was especially so living in Phoenix, the land of “bikini bodies” all year long. She went back and forth on a daily basis between feeling like her body was fine and she needed to accept herself or feeling like she was too fat. Every day was a struggle to feel “good enough,” if it wasn’t her body she was dissatisfied with it was her career and if not that, then something else. She was getting exhausted from the constant existential crisis. Sighing, she left the bathroom, turning out the light as she went, and rushed back into her room to grab her things.

  Racing downstairs with her purse and tote bag she quickly gathered some food for lunch from the fridge and started the kettle on the stove. Once her tea was ready and in her travel cup,
Eleanor gathered up her things and walked out to her car. She winced slightly, squinting in the brightness of the early morning sun and shoving her sunglasses over her eyes. The forecast for the day called for sun, sun, and more sun, with a high of around 99 degrees. Summer was roaring in, and Eleanor knew it would be triple digit temperatures any day. She fought off the envy when she thought about the current weather in her favorite city. London’s forecast was in the low 60’s with mostly cloudy skies. Eleanor laughed at the thought that most Londoners would think her crazy for wanting to swap climates, but after years of living in the desert, cold and rain and clouds seemed like such a novelty and one she’d trade for in a heartbeat.

  Driving to campus, Eleanor went over her lesson plans in her head. On Mondays and Wednesdays, she taught two classes, English 101 and Modern Drama, a theatre class she felt she was barely qualified to teach considering she had no theatre experience, but was allowed because she had taken a few courses in Shakespeare and Early American Drama between undergrad and graduate school. She had a three-hour break in between. Since it took her thirty minutes to get to campus and the price of gas was so high, she just stayed on campus, usually going to the library for the duration. The rest of the drive went by in a blur and before she knew it she had arrived at Glendale Community College.

  She drove past the student parking and pulled into one of the staff parking spots, collected her things, and locked her car. She had ten minutes to spare before her first class started and was glad she didn’t have to sprint across campus in the morning heat. First class of the day was English 101, and being near the end of the semester today was basically just an in-class workshop day for their final papers. Walking into the classroom five minutes before the start of class, she noticed that about half her students were already in their seats. They were all laughing and chatting, showing each other things on their phones and talking about their summer plans. Summer vacation was only a couple weeks away and they were all ready to begin the time off, Eleanor included. She was a little worried about summer though. She hadn’t been approved to teach any summer classes, and she wasn’t sure yet if she’d be able to get more shifts at the bookstore she worked at. She loved teaching but hated being an adjunct instructor, just a fancy title that translated to part-time with no benefits and no job security. At 27 years old she was living with her mother, and while her mom was ok with Eleanor not paying rent, Eleanor did contribute to the groceries and paid for her own car maintenance and student loan bills. She also tried to split the bill whenever she and her boyfriend Michael went out on a date. So the summer was going to be tight.

  “Hi Eleanor! How’s it going?” She heard one of her students call out.

  “Hi Max, it’s going well, how are you doing? Almost done with your paper?” Eleanor replied with a smile.

  “Sure thing, you’re going to love it!” Max said laughing.

  Max was one of her more outgoing students. He was the life of the party in the classroom, always chatting with the students around him and asking Eleanor lots of questions throughout class, some more relevant to the subject of the day than others. But Eleanor was always so grateful for students willing to participate. Especially at 7:30 in the morning.

  Over the next five minutes Eleanor got her things set up at the front desk and wrote instructions for the day on the board as the rest of the class came rushing in. At 7:30 Eleanor turned around and began to start the class, just as one last student came rushing in.

  “Glad you could join us Shannon,” Eleanor said smiling.

  “Sorry Eleanor, bad accident on Bell Road, I had to detour around and it took a while.”

  “No worries Shannon, I’m glad you made it on time,” Eleanor replied kindly. She was always concerned about her students. This morning’s group were some of the most dedicated students she taught. The demographic of the students she taught was pretty diverse. But in this class, most of them were from less advantaged backgrounds, worked at least two jobs while going to school full time, taking classes in the early morning, late evening, or online to fit it around their schedules. Many of them also were either young parents, or helped to take care of siblings at home. Shannon was one of those students who shared responsibilities for her siblings. Her mom worked three jobs and was hardly home. So Shannon was the one who got her two little brothers and little sister up and ready for school and dropped them off at school just before rushing to class. She had been reluctant to tell Eleanor why she was always rushing in at the last minute, but after a few weeks she finally confided. Other than her tardiness, Shannon was a perfect student. Her work was always submitted on time, if not early, and it always exceeded the requirements of the assignment. With students like Shannon, Eleanor was always willing to bend some of the rules of the attendance policy.

  Shannon took her usual seat next to Max. The two hadn’t known each other before that semester, but quickly became friends. Eleanor thought Shannon was good for Max. Max was representative of the other half of her students. He came from a solid upper middle-class background, both of his parents worked good jobs and made good money. He always talked about his pride and joy, a customized Honda Civic hatchback that his parents gave him as a high school graduation gift. His parents paid for all of his school expenses and his part time job at Target just paid for his gas and any personal items he wanted to buy or going out with friends. He was taking classes at the community college to get some of his general education credits taken care of and then he would transfer to Arizona State University.

  Some of Eleanor’s students were at the college because it was all they could afford, others were there to knock out basic credits or just take a bunch of classes until they figured out what they really wanted to do, using the college as a way station between high school and the university. At the beginning of the semester Max had seemed carefree to the point of being shallow and superficial, but by the end of the semester he had mellowed a bit. Less bragging and boastful and more serious about his studies. And Max had been good for Shannon. She had started the semester timid and hesitant, like she was afraid Eleanor was going to kick her out of the course. Now she had an easy laugh and chatted with the rest of the class and participated openly in class discussions. Eleanor loved seeing how her students grew and developed throughout the semester. She also loved seeing friendships and relationships flourish. She hoped that Shannon and Max would stay friends after the semester was over, and the romantic in her hoped they might become more than friends.

  The rest of the class passed by and her students’ papers were coming along nicely, they were all on track to be done on time, and so far, it seemed like grading them wouldn’t take too long. Or at least that’s what Eleanor hoped. After the English class was done she headed to the library and did her class prep for the Modern Drama class that started at noon. She had a stack of papers to grade from last week so that took up the rest of the break time between classes. She then had about 30 minutes to herself to read a bit of the novel she was currently reading on her Kindle and eat the lunch she brought with her and then headed across campus to her classroom for Modern Drama at 11:50 am. By that point the sun was directly overhead and it was well nearing 99 degrees. In the direct sunlight, it felt miserable. She had needed her cardigan in the classroom and library that morning but by now it was back stuffed into her tote bag. She knew it would be back on within ten minutes of entering her classroom, the AC was on full blast in all the buildings around campus today.

  The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and she was done with the school day by 1:15pm. Knowing that she would only waste the rest of her day if she went straight home, Eleanor preferred to go to a coffee shop near her home. It was an independent place and Eleanor had become friends with the owner and all of the employees. Walking in she felt some of the tension from the day melt away. Her students had been unusually distracted and unruly in the second class and had kept taking the class down multiple tangents. But looking around the coffee shop with its framed posters of European
locations lining the walls made her feel relaxed. She quickly ordered her standard latte, iced, obviously, and a packet of shortbread cookies and headed to her usual table, under a large poster of Hyde Park in London. She often fantasized about moving to London one day, and being able to go for walks in Hyde Park, wishing she could just step through that poster and be there instead of in hot, miserable Phoenix. She spent the next few hours grading papers and then doing some writing.

  Eleanor had always loved writing. Ever since she was a little girl. She was always writing something; short stories, poetry, outlines for novels, many of which would be later discarded when a new idea would come up. She loved this time of day. These afternoons were her favorite time each week. She loved teaching and her other work as a writing tutor at a local educational center on Fridays for high school students. Teaching and helping young students become better writers was exciting for her, she loved watching those moments where an idea finally clicked in a student’s mind and for a moment they are truly excited about learning. But she knew it was a temporary fix. Neither of her jobs as an adjunct instructor or writing tutor were paying all of the bills, and her Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday job working at the second-hand bookstore was a fun change of pace but that job wasn’t taking her places either.

  Some weeks she just felt so stuck. She had jobs, but no career. She’d love to teach full time, but finding a full-time teaching position in her current community college system had nearly the same odds as winning the lottery. She’d been applying to every full-time teaching job, at all of the local colleges in town, since she graduated with her Masters, but she’d only made it to the interview stage twice and still never managed to land the job. Thankfully her mother understood, since she worked in the college system herself, so she knew how tough it was and how infrequently jobs were posted. But it was still hard for Eleanor. She was stuck and she knew it, but she didn’t know what to do about it. So she just kept writing, losing herself in fictional worlds where problems like that belonged to someone else.