Chapter 40: London, Us

They began their escapades, their delighted touring at the Serpentine Lake near Hyde Park, where the hotel was located nearby. The serene and quaint atmosphere made it incredibly beautiful. There was a peaceful tranquility about this place that Zara could feel. Nat had been here before; he moved through everything with ease, knowing where and when to go without needing a tour guide.

“About time,” he said to Zara when they were near the lake. The boats were mostly blue and orange in color. Some other residents—mostly couples and their families were in them, rocking gently and paddling.

“Okay, I didn’t expect the waters like this to be our first tourist exploration. First showering in the air at high altitude, and now this,” Zara said, a slight furrow appearing on her brow.

“Well, that’s what life becomes when you are dating Nat Wolfe—a litany of surprises.”

“Scary surprises,” she teased.

“More like worthwhile adventures,” Nat said.

Zara had on short knickers and a blouse with sunglasses. Nat had a tight T-shirt on with jeans and Converse sneakers, his glasses matching Zara’s.

“Hop in,” he said, holding the boat steady for her to sit.

“Need help with that, sir?” came a bald-headed man in a red suit jacket.

“No, thank you. We’re fine,” Nat replied.

Zara looked at Nat with keen admiration. She hoped he wouldn’t pull them down and collapse the boat in the distance. She didn’t believe he would know how to handle it until she realized it was a motorboat, and she had nothing to worry about.

She looked out at the large expanse of water and breathed in the freshness of the air.

“This is so beautiful,” Zara said, smiling. She held her iPhone 17 and took a photo.

“For the gram!” she said.

She took another, then others with Nat smiling, relaxed on the boat.

“So nice,” she remarked, looking at their photos and smiling.

They laughed at a couple paddling a manual boat this way and that way. They were fighting each other, comparing.

“We should have taken the motorboat instead, Juella. Too bad you’re allergic to the soft life.”

They laughed at them, coughing out cackles.

Then another couple caught their attention. The wife was dancing on the boat, jumping up and down until it collapsed and turned them upside down.

Zara made out their frenzied, rhythmic words before the unexpected downturn.

“You really wanna rock the boat,

You really wanna rock the boat.”

A great surge of energy had spurred both of them to stand up and dance a little. They forgot paddling until the unexpected happened. The lifeguard luckily saved them.

“Oops!” Zara and Nat laughed. She caught herself mid-laughter and looked at their present moment—on a boat sailing nowhere on the lake, the island in the greying distance. She looked at Nat and kissed him.

“I love you.”

He kissed her back. “I love you too.”

“Alright. Let’s leave here.”

“Yes, please. I’m getting aquaphobic.”

“You are scared of everything, Zara,” he teased, “including this dick.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Zara warned.

“What you gonna do?”

“Oh, I’m gonna ride you till you end up in a wheelchair.”

Nat paused. He felt the need to scream. “Okay, that’s crazy.”

“No, it’s reality, and it’s gonna happen.”

“More like I fuck you till you can’t walk anymore.”

Zara blushed.

They talked about the lake, Nat telling her it’s called the Serpentine Lake.

“Are there serpents in the water we just waded through?” she asked, looking curious. They were on dry land now.

“No! Not serpents. Serpentine is a mineral resource. It’s green and shiny, with a rocky appearance, of course.”

He gestured to one of the tour guides. “She’s asking about serpentine.”

“Oh!” the man said, delighted. It seemed he was used to the question. “Hold on.” He came back with the mineral.

Zara held it like a baby tortoise. She ran her fingers over it—apple-green, mottled with light and dark covered areas, with a wax-like appearance.

“It’s heavy,” Zara said.

He gave an unnecessary historical prompt about it while Zara looked bored, cutting him sharply.

“We’ll keep it,” she said.

Next up was the iconic Buckingham Palace. Nat hired a car and a chauffeur for the long routes. The palace had grand architecture. It was truly royal and regal, timeless and unshakable, even though they couldn’t go inside. The indoor summer opening for July to September had closed. It was November now.

They watched the palace guards being changed behind the iron gates. Zara took another photo with Nat of the building, including a short reel. She sent them as a Snapchat streak to her friends and siblings.

“In London without me,” came Jean. “Sister of the year,” she typed, with an emoji of clapping hands.

Zara replied with an emoji of a laughing face.

“Get yourself a man like Nat,” she said.

“Lol… When is my time, God?” followed by a crying-face emoji.

John commented on how cool and surreal it was, highlighting his penchant for London—for the city rooted in rich history.

They walked around the perfectly trimmed gardens, hand in hand, and laughed at a silver-haired couple who complimented them.

“You guys look so good together,” the woman said, smiling ever so brightly. Her husband’s hands were wrapped around her shoulders.

“Reminds me of her when we first got married in the ’60s. She was like an angel.”

“And he was my prince charming,” she said and laughed.

“Thank you,” Zara smiled, holding her hands to her chest. Nat thanked them too. She imagined the couple dating back years ago, in a different era—when men were more romantic, when coiffed and bouffant wigs reigned, and men in large shirts and trousers were the spectacle, a rare gem. She imagined them in their ’60s–furnished living room, with a black-and-white TV and a large record on the stereo, dancing romantically to Elvis Presley.”

They watched them walk away. They stood before the Victoria Memorial statue, with the image of Queen Victoria and, on top, a gold sculpture of something that looked like an angel of victory—a man with wings, two others on the floor beneath it. It was a monument to Queen Victoria that represented truth, justice, and motherhood.

“I’m so hungry,” came Nat

“So am I,” Zara said. She was famished.

“You haven’t had London’s magnificent cuisine yet?”

“Not really.”

“Let’s go.”

They hopped back into their chauffeur-driven car.

“Take us to the best restaurant there is,” he told the driver.

“Sure.”

He drove off.

Alicia came into Zara’s house. Her stalking skills were top-tier. How she found the residence, Isla didn’t know. Perhaps she had browsed through social media for Zara—the woman she had sworn would destroy the relationship she had with Nat.

“Wow! This nigga really cleaned up this bitch,” she said as she walked through the well-manicured lawn and into the house when the chef, let her in.

Isla came up. “Who the fuck are you?” She recognized her face but pretended not to know her. Her reaction was sharp with loathing.

“Where is she?” said Alicia, wearing a dark gown and wig. Her curves were overly curved—perhaps she had done BBL surgery, Isla thought.

“Who?”

“Zara!”

“She’s not here. How may I help you?”

“I’m Alicia. Nat’s baby mama. I have a son for him.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, when does she get back?”

“I don’t know. She’s on tour with her man.”

“Tour?” Isla saw the way her lips scrunched up.

“Where?”

“Why do you care?”

“Do you have a message to leave for her?”

“Nope. Never mind.” She got out of the house.

Isla laughed at the jealousy that twisted her face, the vague terror etched on her, squeezing her lips into a tight, harsh grin.

“Oops!” She lounged on the sofa and dialed Slim-Shag. He picked up immediately.

“Wanna come over?” she asked.