Chapter 7: The Vibe

September 13, 1994, London, England

“Steve?” a tall, good looking man with short, light brown hair and pale blue eyes asked.

“You must be Jon!” I said, extending my hand.

“Welcome to England.”

“Thanks. It’s good to meet you! And I think I know why you said this place was ‘ideal’,” I grinned.

“You saw the plaque at the front?”

“I did! It’s perfect!”

“Glad you appreciate it. I’ve grabbed a table,” he said leading me to it. “Now what’s your poison?”

“Well, I don’t think I can take warm beer, but if they have a single malt, I’d take a whisky, without an ‘e’.”

“A cultured man who knows how to spell! Do you have a preference?”

“I’ll bow to your local knowledge; you can educate me.”

“Highland Park then, or maybe a Laphroaig. But I’m afraid I’ll be drinking what you call warm beer. Which, incidentally, isn’t warm, it’s served at cellar temperature. Of course if you prefer, they do have Budweiser.”

“I prefer whisky to the piss water they call ‘beer’ in America.”

“OK, I’ll be right back with the drinks.”

“No table service?” I asked.

“It’s an old English tradition. Along with ordering your food at the bar, so if you’d like to peruse the menu while I’m gone, I can particularly recommend the meat pies.”

“So long as the sign out front it telling the truth, I’ll bite!”

He laughed and headed to the bar. I perused the menu and made a choice. Jon was back a moment later with our drinks.

“I think I’ll have the Steak & ESB pie, but I need to know what ESB gravy is.”

“Extra Special Bitter. In this case, ESB is a brand name of Fuller’s Brewery.”

“Ah, perfect,” I said. “That’s what I’ll have.”

“Sides and starters?”

“Chips for the side; do you know the soup of the day?”

“Beef vegetable.”

“That’ll do,” I said.

He nodded and went to the bar to place the order, and returned a few minutes later.

“Do you have to place all orders at the bar?”

“That’s part of the tradition.”

“Interesting. Do you have your plans set?”

“Assuming the US government can get its thumb out, we’ll fly out on Boxing Day. Are you sure it’s all right for the whole tribe to come?”

“Absolutely! It won’t be a problem. You, your partner, and two kids?”

“Yes, although we use the term wife for Karen, even though we aren’t legally married.”

“And Karen is a dentist?”

“That’s right.”

“Al Barton says that your personal circumstances are similar to ours,” I said with a grin.

“Not quite the same; Karen’s bisexual. She has a girlfriend as well as me.”

“Are you bringing her girlfriend along?”

“No, Karen’s basically hetero, but she gets an itch from time to time for a little girl action. Listen if that’s a problem for you, we can get a hotel for the week.”

I laughed, “I guess Al didn’t fill you in all the way. The mother of my eldest son, Jesse, is a lesbian. She’s married to another woman, though not legally, mind you. Her wife, Josie, is bisexual. I have other gay and lesbian friends. Trust me; it’s no problem! What DID Al tell you?”

“Just that you had a couple of women you called wives.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that. In the main house are Jessica and Kara, my wives, each of which is mother to two of my kids. There’s also Elyse, my former long-term lover with whom I had two boys. There’s also Michelle, who has been a long-term lover, but that might be ending. Jesse lives with his moms in a detached coach house on the same property.”

Jon laughed, “I can see why Al refers to it as the ‘Cirque du Steve‘. How do you cope with all those women, and all those kids?”

The conversation was interrupted when the waiter brought our starters and we began eating.

“So, back to my question,” he said.

“Love; a lot of love. And honestly, for the longest time, I was the most difficult one to live with. I’ve learned a few lessons over the years.”

“Haven’t we all,” he said, holding up his glass.

I lifted mine as well and we drank a toast.

We finished our starters just as our main courses were brought to the table by a waiter.

“This is REALLY good,” I said, taking a bite of my meat pie.

“I told you!” he laughed.

“Did you and Karen decide where you want the kids to sleep?”

“We’ve asked them, and they think that sharing a room with your kids would be, and I quote, ‘cool, Daddy’.”

“Looks like that’s settled then. How’s your conference going?”

“I do my presentation first thing in the morning and I plan to make my escape as quickly afterwards as possible. Then it’s back to Manchester Royal Infirmary.”

“You aren’t a ManUre fan, are you?”

“Bloody hell! No! Good Lord, Steve, I thought you understood I was a cultured, educated man!”

I chuckled, “I had to check. One of my employees is a fan of the Spurs and hates Manchester United.”

“Just ‘Spurs’, Steve. Not ‘the Spurs’. Tottenham Hotspur Football Club is their formal name, and the nickname is simply ‘Spurs’.”

“Interesting. But what the heck is a ‘Hotspur’?”

“You do have Shakespeare over in the Colonies, right? His works have made their way across the Pond?”

I laughed, “Yes. I didn’t associate football with Sir Henry Percy, aka Sir Harry Hotspur!”

“He’s known for his riding spurs and fighting cocks. The team crest features a cockerel. The story goes that early in the 20th century a player made a bronze cast of a cockerel standing on a football. It’s been a major part of their identity ever since. They’re sponsored by Holsten Brewery.”

“So, are you a fan of Spurs?”

“No. Leeds United, who play in the new Premier League, which is the top division in English football. I’m also a fan of Castleford Tigers who play Rugby League, and Leeds RUFC, who play Rugby Union.”

“I’ve heard about the competing leagues and know they play by different sets of rules, but not much more.”

“I could explain, but it’s probably like cricket for you Yanks!”

I laughed, “I can explain the ‘leg before wicket’ rule if you want!”

“My estimation of you just went up! I play cricket for the Pudsey St Lawrence, where I’m in the second eleven. I also play golf.”

I laughed, “I know just the guys to hook you up with for golf, though not until April, most likely.”

“You don’t play?”

“No. I’ve been out a few times but I don’t find it relaxing OR enjoyable. I prefer martial arts and ice hockey.”

“Not much in the way of ice hockey here in England. We leave that to the Swedes!”

“The Swedish Elite League is damned good,” I said. “Any ideas what you want to show your family?”

“The kids are clamoring for the Sears Tower.”

“The view is pretty awesome.”

“We’ll probably check out the Chicago Art Museum and I hear the Adler Planetarium is very good.”

“It is. We also have an excellent symphony and opera, though I don’t know their schedule.”

I pronounced it ‘shedule’ which caused Jon to smile.

“We’ll check that later. I’ll probably take Karen to tour the hospital, but the kids would be bored.”

“You two are going to be apart for the best part of a year?”

“Yes, but we’ll manage. I do have a bit of liberty, if you know what I mean?”

I laughed, “I have a LOT of liberty.”

“Perhaps you’re a better negotiator!”

“You assume I’m actually the one who’s in control!”

“Good point!”

We finished our pies and had another round of drinks.

“I think this is going to be a good relationship!” Jon said.

“We’re looking forward to seeing you in three months! If you don’t get an answer soon, I do have a friend at the State Department.”

“That might be useful. Ask Al Barton for a status and if things don’t move, perhaps you can speak to your friend.”

“I take it Al has the State Medical Board on speed dial at this point?”

“They’re being very difficult for no reason I can see. I’ve been what you would call an ‘Attending’ for seven years. I received four A’s on my A-levels. You know what those are, right?”

“Yes.”

“And then First Class honours from Edinburgh, and I’ve been a member of the Royal College of Surgeons since 1986, and a Fellow for the past three years.”

“Our entire system is rotten from top to bottom and makes zero sense to me. I’m an outsider who’s an insider, if you get my drift, and I’ve had long talks with Al about how bad our system is. That said, at least it’s not the NHS!”

“Creaky as it is, we Brits love our NHS. It’s underfunded and under-resourced but we wouldn’t swap it for the world.”

“Let’s just say you and I will have some VERY interesting conversations! Before I forget, I wanted to ask if there are specific likes and dislikes you have.”

“Likes? Indian food, opera, good music, proper ale, cooking, reading, and photography. Dislikes? Bigots, McDonald’s and anything similar, lager, our government, and, of course, Manchester United.”

“I don’t like OUR government, so we have that in common!”

“One more?” Jon asked holding up his glass.

“Sure,” I agreed. “Let me get this round.”

I went over to the bar and ordered our drinks, then went back to the table. We chatted while we drank, then made for the door.

“See you in a few months!” he said as we shook hands on the pavement.

“See you,” I replied.

I hailed a cab and the trip back to the hotel was quicker, given it was nearly 10:00pm. I stopped on the fourth floor and knocked on the door of room 401. Magdalena opened it a moment later.

“You’re earlier than I expected,” she said.

“Dinner and some drinks,” I said. “Not a night on the town.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“I have a bottle of champagne in my room courtesy of the hotel,” I said. “I’m not going to drink the whole thing myself. If you aren’t comfortable with that, we can ask the concierge to recommend a local.”

“Hmm. A married man invites me to his room to drink champagne,” she laughed. “But you seem safe enough, so why not?”

“Gee, thanks,” I said deadpan.

“I suppose that could go either way in terms of being an insult, right?”

“Exactly. I need to get some ice brought up to the room. I have a huge basket of fruit, too, if you want to snack.”

“What makes you rate?”

“I’m in the Six Continents Club, so I get upgrades and perks.”

We went upstairs to the 5th floor and I let her into the suite.

“A suite? I am SO living the wrong life!”

“This is part of the upgrade I get for staying enough nights each year. I can also walk into any InterContinental hotel and get a guaranteed room, even if the hotel is full.”

“How is THAT possible?”

“All of their properties have a room which is reserved for the on-duty manager’s use. That becomes the emergency guest room in such a case.”

“What if there are two requests?”

I shrugged, “I have no idea!”

“I’d be interested in looking at the contract,” she smirked.

“In this room, you are NOT a lawyer!” I protested. “You’re my new Swedish friend! Grab a seat and let me call room service.”

Lena sat on the loveseat while I called room service and explained what I wanted. They promised someone would be right up with ice and an urn to place the bottle in. True to their word, about four minutes later we had our bottle of champagne in the urn and were munching grapes from the fruit basket.

“How was your dinner?” she asked.

“Good. He’s a nice guy. And I found out why it was an ideal place. My new friend is Doctor Jonathan Todd, a surgeon, and his nickname is ‘Sweeney’.”

Magdalena laughed, “As in the ‘Demon Barber’?”

“Yes. You know the story?”

“I saw the play in the West End with my parents when I was thirteen. And again last year when they revived it.”

“Nice! So it turns out The Old Bank of England is on a property at the address of the barber shop and pie shop. They have a plaque out front.”

“Cool!”

“And it advises that their meat pies do not use the same ingredients!”

“I should hope not!” she laughed. “How was the food?”

“Pretty good. Did you eat here again?”

“No, I explored a bit and found an Indian restaurant. I liked it. How was work today?”

“I did a couple of three-hour training classes for our software, then set everything up so they can actually start using the system tomorrow. I’ll be there to assist.”

“Then you’re going elsewhere?”

“I’m staying here, but the other client is in Woking. I need to take the Jubilee line to Waterloo Station, then a train from there to Woking. It appears to be about an hour total travel time. The office is a short walk from the station. On Friday, I’ll take my bags and go straight from Woking to Heathrow. How about you?”

“I fly back to Sweden just after lunch on Friday. We’ll probably finish everything on Thursday, but just in case, I have Friday morning as well.”

“That’s a lot of time on depositions.”

“Just the father’s deposition will likely take until tomorrow noon. Then we have three more, but they’re shorter.”

“I’ve been deposed a couple of times and it usually took a couple of hours!”

“As I said, this is an unbelievably complex case. And if you add in the side-conferences and the breaks everyone needs it ends up to be about five hours of deposition per day.”

“Crazy,” I said.

“I called the office today and had a very interesting conversation with Kristian Kjellson!”

I chuckled, “I bet! So you want to hear my story about Sweden?”

“Even more after that call!”

I laughed and began telling her about meeting the Swedish Birgit and how our relationship developed which led me to want to be an exchange student. I did pause to open the bottle of champagne and pour some for both of us. By the time the bottle was empty, I finished my story with my trip back home.

“That sounds like a heck of an adventure! And that girl you met in Austria still works as a diplomat and her husband is still a Red Army officer?”

“Yes. We’ll be going to visit them, their daughter, and her parents next summer.”

“You certainly have a very interesting life!”

“It can be crazy, but honestly, at this point, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“I’m going to head to bed. Breakfast in the morning?”

“Yes,” I said.

I walked her to the door, we said ‘good night’ and I pulled out my laptop to write in my journal. As I wrote about the last couple of days, something that Lena had said came into my mind. She didn’t use the exact words, but she’d made it clear I wasn’t giving off the same ‘vibe’ that so many girls had mentioned. Granted, it was a sample of one, but as I thought about it, she was a girl I’d have been interested in being with if the circumstances of my life were different.

Why wasn’t I giving off the vibe? Because I wasn’t interested? Because of Japan? Because of Michelle? Some combination of those? Something else entirely? It was an interesting question to which I had no sure answer, and didn’t know how to find out. I didn’t think I’d done anything different, and she had initiated the conversation, which was normal when the vibe was active. She’d been on guard for something like that, but she hadn’t detected it. Why? The answer didn’t come, so I shut down my computer and got ready for bed. Before I went to sleep, I called home to talk to my wives and Birgit.

September 14, 1994, London, England

I ran my planned route on Wednesday morning and when I went to the grassy area to practice my kata, I saw Harry waiting with two girls who looked to be around his age. I waved and spent fifteen minutes going through my kata, attracting several other onlookers. When I finished I walked over to Harry.

“That was cool,” one of the girls said.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Steve, this is Diane, my girlfriend, and this is my little sister Philippa, who we call Pippa.”

Both girls were very cute brunettes with engaging smiles.

“Nice to meet you both,” I said. “I guess Harry invited you to watch the short karate demonstration?”

“He said it was totally cool,” Diane said. “Where are you from?”

“Chicago,” I answered. “I’m here on business but I need to get practice in every day, if possible.”

“You’re an instructor?” Pippa asked.

“Yes.”

“Can you show us more?” she asked.

“Really, all I can do here is show you kata, those preprogrammed moves I was doing.”

“Those were a pattern?”

I nodded, “Yes. They’re highly stylized fights, though against invisible opponents. I did a couple of the same ones yesterday, so Harry saw them. Tomorrow I’ll do a couple of the same ones plus some different ones. There are dozens of them.”

“Why do those?”

“For practice. They teach you combinations of blocks and strikes, and are meant to teach proper form as well as instill proper discipline. They’re done slowly and without power. If I were actually defending myself, I’d move much quicker and strike much harder.”

“Have you had to defend yourself?”

“Really just once. The first rule is to try to avoid the fight if at all possible.”

“Cool!” she said.

“Sorry to cut this short, but I need to get a shower, dress for work, and get some breakfast.”

“You’ll be here tomorrow again?”

I nodded, “Yes. And Friday. But then I’m heading to Amsterdam Friday evening.”

“Nice meeting you,” she said, extending her hand.

I took it and instantly saw a look in her eyes that said the vibe was active. Her soft handshake, followed by trailing her fingers along my palm confirmed that idea. Nothing had changed that I could think of, but the vibe was back on. I wondered if Magdalena would notice, or if for some reason she was immune to it, or even if I was giving it off for her. Pippa smiled at me and I smiled back, then turned to walk back to the hotel. I could FEEL her looking at me without glancing back and tried to figure out what was going on. I still had no idea when I sat down with Lena to eat breakfast.

“How was your run?” she asked.

“Good. I practiced kata as well. I had a small audience for that. I did it yesterday and attracted some attention. One of the guys came back to watch again and brought his girlfriend and sister. There were a couple of other people, too. I guess they don’t see too many people practicing martial arts in public.”

“Except in my dojang, I haven’t ever seen anyone practicing. Not in a park, or even a gym.”