CHAPTER 1
The ruggedly handsome guy with long black hair and very pale complexion leaned back on the chair in the half-empty Starbucks and wished he'd chosen a coffee that tasted like coffee. Idly he studied three under thirties women at a table who were dressed like businesswomen. He winked at one and she turned away embarrassed and their heads went together as they discussed the situation.
A sharp-nosed woman with a tongue to match marched over and demanded, "Why are you staring at us and winked at Susan?"
"Because I have nothing better to do?"
"You are English."
"You could be American but you're not blonde."
She frowned and tried again. "We are angry, feeling you are intruding on our space."
Sighing, he put on a reassuring smile and said, "I don't wish to sound rude but you can't expect to occupying private space in a coffee house."
"God you are rude and difficult. Please come over and apologize to Susan."
The guy went ahead of the woman and at the table said, "Hi ladies. I've been invited to join you."
"I did not. I definitely do not..."
Too late. Two of the women moved apart and the guy pulled a chair from an adjoining empty table and sat between the other two females. The woman who'd been behind him went and sat in her chair opposite him and glowered her unfriendliness.
"Ladies I'm Hugo Garrett from Pode Hole in England."
The women looked at Hugo suspiciously and then the other two looked at their spokeswoman.
"I'm Brenda," she said. "You already know Susan well enough to wink at her and this is Elenora."
Elenora giggled and claimed, "There's no such place as Pode Hole."
"In that case there's no such place as New York."
Brenda struck showing teeth. "That's a stupid comment."
"Likewise."
"You are so rude."
"Brenda please understand I'm as convinced that Pode Hole exists as you are that New York exists because you reside in New York just as I resided a little out from Pode Hole until I set off for New York six days ago."
"He's probably telling the truth," Susan said. "The English have many quaint names for ancient settlements. My dad is English and he came from Over Peover, a tiny village in Cheshire and I've seen photographs of it including The Dog Inn."
"Thank you Susan, you are so sweet. For the past year I'd lived in a near-derelict cottage caring for my ailing father who'd had a second stroke and he died a month ago. My mother was American and had me thirty-years ago when she was thirty-seven at her mother's home on Long Island and we returned to England when I was three months old. She died from influenza three years ago. The cottage is on Horseshoe Rd, just a wee way out of Pode Hole which is in East Midlands, a little over 100 miles north-east of London."
"Interesting," Brenda said, looking not at all interested.
"Very interesting," Susan nodded. "That story could be the base for a novel."
Brenda groaned.
Hugo offered to buy them coffee but was told they'd had their two-drink self-imposed limit.
Hugo learned they were attorneys and worked for the same firm and were on their way home. They stood and said goodbye to him and were going out the door when Susan came back and said, "Stay here. I'll be back in a few minutes. I'm taking you home."
Hugo watched her dart out the door and wondered about that. He remained confident that Susan wished him no harm.
She returned and said, "Sorry about that. I'm Susan Ford and am into my second year practicing law. If I'd told you I was inviting you home to dinner to meet dad my friends would have teased me. I-I don't go looking for sex."
"I'm sure you don't Susan. You look all class."
Susan blushed and said come with her. They walked a few blocks and then turned into East 22nd street, crossed a couple of streets and entered a substantial apartment building located in what she said was the Flatiron District.
She called, "Mom, dad I'm home with a dinner guest."
An older Susan look-alike appeared from the TV room with her parents. The sexier daughter looked at the visitor and gasped, "Omigod, you're Hugo something, author of 'My Mother's Late Delivery' a story about her conceiving and birthing you and interwoven around that an even more hilarious account of how some women go to extraordinary lengths as they approach forty to conceive. That novel sold very well in five countries. Your other big seller, 'F-off New Immigrants, We Were Here First' raised a real political storm in England and because of that controversy sold quite well here. Critics call you one of the few satirical writers with messages to deliver who has genuine wit."
Susan looked at her assumed near-penniless new immigrant and gaped.
"You have good recall miss. Obviously you are either a librarian or bookstore worker or are in publishing. Hi Mr and Mrs Ford. I am what your elder daughter says I am. My name is Hugo Garrett."
"Good evening I'm Fred Ford," said Susan's father. "This is my wife Jessica and this is our other daughter Charlotte. Welcome to our home and please make yourself comfortable. We will be taking you to a restaurant Hugo because we eat out most nights and eat out all meals at the weekend."
"How fascinating and thank you for your warm welcome. May I leave my recorder on? I'm in America researching for my new novel that has the tentative title of 'Sissy Logan-Campbell Goes to New York'. Sissy is a sexy of my imagination and lands in Manhattan at the age of twenty-six. She's a computer graphics artist who had been working and living on the Isle of Dogs in the Canary Wharf District."
Falling into a faint English accent, Mr Ford said, "I remember that area well, before all the huge redevelopment Hugo. Please call me Fred and yes it's okay to record what we say to you. We are a respectable family so are unlikely to say anything that can be used to embarrass us."
"Is it necessary to make your heroine sexy?"
"Yes mom," chorused the daughters and Hugo grinned and said yes Mrs Ford."
"You sound so interesting. I want you to stay with us for a few days. Fred go with Hugo now by cab to his hotel to pick up his things."
"All the money I have allocated myself is $800 US dollars and no credit cards, just as Sissy will arrive with Mrs Ford. I have to find a cheap room."
"Please call me Jessica or Jess if you wish. Couldn't you give that poor girl a better name than Sissy?"
"Changing could be a dangerous Jess. I conceived her as Sissy some months ago and talk to her... I mean I think about her several times a day. Can you imagine the consequences of someone attempting to change your identity?"
"You do talk to Susie, I mean you have creative dialogue with her don't you?"
"Yes Charlotte. What a lovely name you have. Been in literature you will be aware of some famous carriers of that name. Are you aware that Lolita is a variant form of your name?"
"Yes. Is that a just a tease?"
"Yes just a tease."
Charlotte smiled. "I like it."
He said, "I take it that the names Charlotte and Susan were your first choice preferences Jess?"
"Indeed and I didn't have to fight to have those names. Fred was just so pleased I was able to end two pregnancies successfully for us. He was aware from what his mother had told him she had three miscarriages before she had him and was advised to have no more children."