Chapter 1

He awakes with a start. His eyes blink as he struggles with the unfamiliar surroundings. The woman next to him stirs and murmurs softly. Hearing the noises from her, he looks at her with desire, his body begins to respond and he reaches over and grasps her hand. She squeezes his and smiles in return, as they look into each other's eyes.

A woman's voice dispels the moment. Rudely announcing they will be starting their descent and would be soon landing at Heathrow and they should fasten their seatbelts. A half hour later, they are walking down the moving walkway toward passport control.

They pass through the gate without incident, both pleasantly surprised with the lack of overzealous TSA interference that is par for the course all over America. They walk through towards Baggage Reclaim and wait for their luggage to come to the revolving carousel.

"I'm frightened Dave." Olivia announces as as they wait for their luggage to arrive.

He takes her in his arms and hugs her. "I felt the same way when I flew out nine years ago, but unlike me, you are not alone. Besides England is nowhere near as scary as America, I have often heard it described as "quaint", I really think you'll get used to it, our way of doing things fairly quickly. Don't worry, you've got me."

As he reassures her, he hopes he sounds convincing. He too is apprehensive, it has been a long time since he left home and as much as he wanted to see the people he knew and loved, he also feared the changes he expects to see in them, and the changes they would see in him.

After collecting their luggage, they begin moving toward the exits.

"Is he waiting for us?" Olivia asks loudly, pointing to a man holding a card with "Mr and Mrs Hunt" written on it.

"I hope so." He replies as they walk toward the man.

"Blackthorn Königin Plastics." David asks him.

"He nods. "Mr Hunt."

Dave nods as he speaks again.

"I trust you had a pleasant flight, welcome to England."

David Hunt smiles as he recognizes the familiar twang of the Essex accent in the man's otherwise impeccable diction.

"My name is Stephen, would you prefer to go straight to your home, or would you like to get some refreshments first?"

Dave looks to his wife, ready to discuss the choices with her, he knows she wants to get to their destination but he has been dreaming of a good English pint of bitter and he knew just where he wanted it.

Before he had the chance to voice his opinion Olivia demanded loudly that they go straight to "the company flophouse."

The astonishment Dave feels at his wife's words and manner show on his face. He excuses her to himself, putting her uncharacteristic aggressiveness down to fatigue and apprehension.

"As you wish Madam." Stephen answers, his words echoing the sarcastic tone of PG Wodehouse's Jeeves, combined with the accent of Parker, from the Thunderbirds.

"Excuse us a minute, please Stephen." David says, pulling his wife to one side.

"I know you're tired, I know you want to put this journey behind us, but we need to eat and I don't fancy cooking when we get to the house, even though I know they have stocked up the larder."

"I couldn't face a restaurant darling, please. Lets just get to that hovel and maybe we can make a sandwich."

"We could do, but I fancied something proper, something hot."

"But darling, we will enjoy it more once we are rested." Her words frosty and spoken through a forced smile.

Too tired to argue Dave nods and rejoins Stephen.

As they had pulled away from the airport, he felt he understood his wife's attitude. He remembered his arrival in California. Even though he had an idea of what to expect from the countless american TV shows he had watched he had not been able to fathom how alien american culture, the whole way of life, is to a young man from a small English town.

The drive to Emmingford begins without conversation, but as their journey progresses familiar clues remind David that he is home.

Driving on the left, road signs, place names and once off the motorways, the architecture. Each reminder grows in it's significance, slowly raising his excitement and pushing back the jet lag and with it, some of the affinity he had been feeling with his wife's situation.

As much as he wanted a proper English pint, it was only as the sun started to rise the thought of the different time zone hit him, then and only then did he realise how stupid, the petty argument they had at the airport was. They had left LAX just after eight in the morning, it would be past seven GMT when they arrive at their temporary home. The only places they would find to eat other than the airport were service stations or Joe's cafe in Emmingford.

Noticing that his wife is asleep he speaks to Stephen.

"Has it changed much? I've been gone about nine years."

"The town itself, not much, but there's a lot of new housing and industrial areas on the outskirts."