ATasteofLondon

  A Taste of London

  Lucy Felthouse

  Ryan Stonebridge and his friend Kristian Hurst are heading off on the trip of a lifetime. They’re spending their gap year traveling the world and expect lots of sun, sights and sex. The guys have a couple of days in the English capital before catching the Eurostar to Paris. Unfortunately, a family emergency means that Kristian has to head back home for a while, leaving Ryan to continue the trip alone.

  Luckily for Ryan, he’s an attractive guy and there is no shortage of gorgeous women available to help take his mind off Kristian’s family drama.

  A TASTE OF LONDON

  Lucy Felthouse

  Chapter One

  “Come on, mate, let’s go and grab our travel passes from the machine,” Ryan said, his familiarity with the locale apparent by the way he marched along the train platform toward the heart of St. Pancras Station.

  “What? Uh—okay.” Kristian rearranged his bag on his shoulder and scurried to keep up with his friend.

  Bypassing the huge line of impatient, muttering people queuing for the manned booths, Ryan headed to one of the ticket machines. By the time Kristian caught up, Ryan already had a travel pass in his hand.

  “So, um, what do I need to buy then, mate? I’m not as au fait with all this as you.”

  “Been practicing your French for the trip, Kris?” Ryan punched his friend playfully on the arm. “No worries. We’re only taking one trip tonight so you just need a single to London Bridge on the Tube.”

  “All right,” Kristian replied, carefully tapping the relevant areas of the touchscreen, feeding his money into the machine and triumphantly retrieving his ticket.

  “Okay, I’m ready to go.”

  “Come on, then.” Ryan hoisted his bag back onto his shoulder and walked in the direction of the Underground, with Kristian close behind.

  “Hey,” Kristian said, pointing as they passed a map of the Underground, “don’t you need to check where we’re going?”

  “Nope,” Ryan said, without breaking stride, “I know London pretty well, plus I double-checked all this stuff when I organized this part of the trip. What can I say? It’s the Boy Scout in me.”

  “Cool. I guess it makes things easier when you’re not checking a map every two minutes. So how long will it take us to get to London Bridge station from here?”

  They stepped onto the escalator. Rather than standing still and letting the moving staircase do its thing, Ryan continued to walk, eager now to get this leg of traveling over and done with so he could have some fun. It had been a long day, or at least it felt like one. They’d actually only traveled around one hundred and fifty miles from the outskirts of the Peak District to the center of London, a couple of hours on the train, but it had felt like longer. Perhaps because he’d been so eager to actually get to London and start their adventure.

  “Not long, mate. Probably about ten minutes. It’s a direct journey and at this time of day it shouldn’t be too busy. We can dump our stuff at the hostel, then have some drinks next door.”

  “There’s a pub next door? No wonder I let you sort out this trip. You’re a fucking genius.”

  By now they’d reached the bottom of the escalator. Ryan stepped off, then turned to face his friend. Tapping his head, he grinned and said, “It’s not just a hat rack, mate.”

  Kristian laughed. “You’re right there.” He paused. “It’s a fucking chick magnet too.”

  Ryan frowned, looking genuinely confused. “It is?” Then he shook himself and smiled. “I wish someone had told me!”

  “Are you kidding, mate? Everywhere we go, women are checking you out.” Kristian grinned. “Why do you think I agreed to go traveling with you? I’m hoping some of your apparent sex appeal will rub off on me and get me some action!”

  Ryan laughed, then started walking toward the southbound platform for their connection to London Bridge. “So that’s your ulterior motive, eh? Never mind being my best mate, or seeing the world, you just wanna get laid?”

  “Well, all of the above, naturally. But come on, tell me the thought of getting a shag on this trip hasn’t entered your head? You’ve not gone gay on me, have you?”

  Ryan opened his mouth, but his answer was interrupted by the arrival of their train. Once they were onboard, he looked around to make sure no one was listening, then said, “No, I have not gone gay as you so delicately put it. It’s just that I hadn’t put shagging at the top of my priority list for this trip. I wanna see the world, you know? If I hook up with a girl while we’re away, then that’s just a bonus.”

  “Fair enough. You know, Ryan, I respect that. You’ve got your head screwed on right. When else will we get chance—lottery win excepted—to bugger off for a few months and do whatever we want and go wherever we want?” His face took on a contemplative expression. “We should definitely be making the most of it, shouldn’t we?”

  Ryan raised his eyebrows at his friend. “There’s no need to get all serious, buddy. We’re here to have fun, remember? See the world, remember?”

  Kristian shook his head, as though ridding it of his previous seriousness. “Right again. Plus we can screw girls at home, right?”

  “Well apparently you can’t. Oh well, at least I won’t have to share the bumper box of condoms I packed.”

  “Fuck off, Ryan. Anyway, about the itinerary…”

  They chatted about the go-to places on their list until they arrived at their stop.

  “Come on, Kris,” Ryan said. “This is our station. Got your travel pass? You’ll need to put it into the barrier to get out of the station.”

  “Oh right,” Kristian said, grabbing his bag and following Ryan down onto the platform. “I think I put it in my…got it.” He pulled the small piece of card from his pocket and they made their way up out of the station and onto the street.

  Once again, Ryan seemed to know exactly where he was going, so within a few minutes they were checking in at the reception desk of the hostel.

  “Fucking hell,” Kristian said as they made their way to the locker area to stash their bags, “how cheap?”

  He glanced at the paperwork he’d been given. “What? There are mixed dorms? All right.”

  Kristian punched the air, causing Ryan to roll his eyes and retort, “Keep it down, mate. That comment right there screamed desperation, not to mention pervert. Carry on like that and even I can’t help you get laid.”

  Kristian made the motions of zipping his mouth shut and they put their bags into the lockers they’d been allocated, then made their way into the adjoining bar. Kristian quickly forgot to stay silent.

  “This place is awesome, mate. The drinks are cheap and we’re sleeping right next door. No stumbling home or taxis for us.”

  “Or night buses,” Ryan said with a visible shudder. He signaled the barman. “You don’t ever want to go on one of those if you can help it. Especially not if you have any semblance of sobriety.”

  Kristian laughed. “Oh yeah, I remember you telling me about the time that girl threw up all over you. Yeah, we definitely don’t want any of that, especially since our wardrobes are a little limited.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Ryan replied. “I’ve crammed a surprising amount of clothes into my bag and I’ll be buying more if we struggle to get our stuff washed. But don’t worry, I know the word for launderette in several languages. Anyway,” he continued, “enough of that practical talk.” He took the beers he’d just ordered and paid for and slid one across the bar to Kristian. “Here’s to our gap year!”

  “Hurrah!” Kristian replied. “Here’s to months of sleeping in rooms with total strangers. We’d better not get robbed.”

  Swallowing a gulp of beer, Ryan reached out and landed a sharp punch on his friend’s arm.r />
  “Shut up, dickhead. I thought you were all right with the hostel thing. You were excited about mixed dorms ten minutes ago, you contrary fucker! Besides,” he continued, “my old man gave me a set amount to spend, remember. If there’s an emergency, he’ll wire more cash, but other than that I’m on a strict budget. If we’d gone for five-star hotels and first-class travel, I think London would have been the furthest we’d have got. Possibly Paris, but certainly nowhere else.”

  “All right, all right,” Kristian retorted, holding his hands up in mock surrender, “keep your hair on, mate. I’m not knocking the plan. I’d much rather go to more places on our student budget than live like kings and not leave the UK.”

  They continued to chat about their travel plans, getting steadily drunker as the evening went on. Many people came and went, but for the most part the men weren’t disturbed. By the time they were ready to call it a night, they’d chatted about everything from sport to politics and refined their itinerary, which now included a trip to the nearby Borough Market in the morning. Or possibly the afternoon, depending on when their hangovers decided to let them get up.

  They stumbled to bed, wobbly and bleary-eyed, hardly noticing the other occupied beds in the room. Just before he slipped into blissful unconsciousness, Ryan grinned to himself.

  This trip is going to be awesome.

  Chapter Two

  The following morning, Ryan was woken by heavy rock music coming from somewhere nearby. As he struggled awake, he could hear curses and moans and “shut that fucking phone up” from the other occupants of their shared dorm. When his brain finally started functioning, Ryan realized it was Kristian’s phone ringing and somehow he was so deeply asleep that he hadn’t heard it. It was probably the booze.

  Rolling out of bed and shambling toward his friend’s, Ryan resisted the temptation to punch him. It wasn’t Kristian’s fault his phone was ringing, after all. Though the twat could have put it on silent before bed like most normal people. Sniggering, Ryan realized Kristian had been too drunk to fully undress, let alone operate his phone. He shook him awake while trying to find the offending mobile in the tangle of Kristian’s sheets. He found it and as soon as Kristian sat up he shoved it into his hand.

  “Wh-who is it?” Kristian asked dopily, peering at the screen.

  “I don’t know,” Ryan whispered, “just answer it and get outside—the noise is disturbing everyone else.”

  Clearly remembering where he was, Kristian looked around worriedly. “S-sorry, everyone. I’m going.” He left the room to a few mumbles of “just go, already” and “yeah, yeah”.

  Ryan slumped back onto his bed and retrieved his own phone. He looked at the time. Seven-thirty a.m. No fucking wonder he was still so tired. Who the hell was ringing Kristian at this time of the morning?

  Shrugging, he logged on to the free WiFi the hostel provided and began checking his emails to pass the time until Kristian got back. Despite the early hour and the pitifully few hours of sleep, he knew he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep now.

  A little while later, Ryan heard the door open. Then, “Ryan.”

  Something in the tone of Kristian’s voice snapped Ryan to attention. Frowning, he got up and walked out the door before shutting it carefully behind him. His friend was as white as a sheet, except for the redness around his eyes. Just as he was about to make a snarky comment about a killer hangover, Kristian blurted out, “Mate, I’ve gotta go home. That was my sister on the phone. Dad’s had a heart attack and been rushed to hospital.”

  It didn’t happen often, but Ryan was speechless. Kristian’s family was almost like his second family, and vice versa. He couldn’t believe it. Then realizing that his friend needed his support, not self-pity, Ryan pulled himself together.

  “Okay, mate. Let’s go and grab our stuff and get out of here. We’ll head back to St. Pancras and grab the first train back home. Which hospital is he in?” He bit back asking if his dad was okay, mainly because he knew it was a stupid question. Of course he wasn’t okay—the man had had a heart attack, for God’s sake!

  Kristian put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Mate, as much as I appreciate it, there’s no reason for you to come with me. From what I gather, they got him to hospital really quickly. Don’t they say that the sooner they’re treated the better it is or something? Or the least damage…oh, you know what I mean.”

  “Mate, are you sure? I’ll happily go with you. We can start our trip again in a few weeks when your dad is better. It’s not a problem, honestly.”

  “I have a better idea. You go on without me and I’ll come and join you as soon as I can. I honestly think Dad’s going to be just fine, but I can hardly disappear off on a world trip knowing he’s in hospital, can I? I’ll go and see him and when I’m sure everything’s okay, I’ll head back. I might even be back in time to get the Eurostar to Paris tomorrow.”

  Knowing when he was defeated, Ryan headed back into the dorm with Kristian and briefly explained to the other occupants what the problem was, hoping they wouldn’t be quite so pissed off by the disturbance of their peace if they knew the reason for it. He helped Kristian pack, then walked with him to the front of the hostel, shook his hand and pointed him in the direction of the Tube station, with instructions on how to get back to St. Pancras.

  “Take care, mate, and give my love to everyone. Drop me a text as soon as you’ve seen your dad so I know how he is, all right?”

  “Will do.” Then, seemingly as an attempt to break the serious atmosphere, he added, “And don’t shag all the birds while I’m gone. Leave some for me, okay?”

  The two laughed together, then Ryan waited at the door for a few seconds as his friend walked back up the street, before heading inside. Grabbing his wash bag and a change of clothes, he headed for the shower. He was wide awake now and, if he cared to admit it to himself, worried about Kristian’s dad. A distraction was in order.

  Half an hour later, Ryan was showered, shaved and dressed in clean clothes. He was ready to hit the outside world. Realizing it was Saturday and that Borough Market would be open this morning, he decided there was no reason to deviate from the original plan, except that he’d be exploring the world-renowned market by himself. It didn’t matter. It was something to do to try to take his mind off things. And besides, Kristian had said there was nothing to worry about, so he might as well just occupy himself and hope that he was back in time for their journey to Paris the following day.

  Stowing most of his stuff back in his locker, Ryan made his way out of the building and up the road toward the market. He passed The Globe Inn, shaking his head as he watched a girl grinning inanely as she had her photo taken outside the door to the flat upstairs. Bridget fucking Jones and Mark fucking Darcy had a lot to answer for.

  Continuing, he blinked as he emerged from the shade of the bridge and back out into the bright light. Even at this time of the morning there were still plenty of folks milling about in the sunshine—browsing, tasting the produce and picking out what they wanted to buy. Although the most he’d fork out for was perhaps a piece of fruit or something from that delicious cake shop he’d discovered the last time he was here, Ryan still enjoyed the market. He liked the atmosphere and the opportunity to people-watch. In fact, people-watching was one of the main reasons he loved cities—there were just so many of them to observe.

  As those thoughts passed through his head, Ryan got the strange feeling that he was being watched. Looking around, he briefly caught the gaze of a woman before she turned away and moved into the growing crowd. There was no one else taking any notice of him, so he figured it had been her whom he’d sensed.

  He went after her. He’d only caught a brief glimpse of the woman, but she was hot, and as a result the perfect distraction from all the shit with Kristian’s dad. In fact, if he’d known what was going on, Dave himself would have been encouraging him with a wink and a “Go on, my son!”

  Grinning at the mental picture, Ryan continued to wind his way
through the throng, hoping to catch sight of her again. As seconds passed, then minutes, Ryan was convinced he’d lost her. He strained his neck over the crowd, hoping to see a flash of dark hair or the green summer top she’d been wearing. There was nothing. Just as he was about to give up and go and buy a consolatory slice of cake, he spotted her again, over toward the cathedral. She glanced over her shoulder and their gazes met again, for longer this time. The look on her face led Ryan to believe that she’d wanted him to follow her. And just in case any doubt had remained in his mind, she winked before walking through the gate into the churchyard and following the path to the entrance.

  Ducking through the gate, Ryan walked quickly past the tourists and sun-worshippers and headed into the relative gloom of the cathedral. He stood just inside the door for a few seconds, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. His gaze landed on the donation box. Later. He’d donate later. First he had to find her.

  He purposely didn’t make eye contact with the volunteer who was standing nearby—the last thing he needed was to have a tour of the cathedral foisted on him by an overenthusiastic member of staff. Beautiful as the building was, he had more exciting things to be getting on with. He hoped.

  That was if he ever found her. The cathedral was full of alcoves and huge stone columns, plenty of places to hide. Though if his suspicions were correct, that was precisely why she’d brought him in here. Either that or he was experiencing some serious wishful thinking.

  As he moved through the cathedral, wincing at the squeaking sound his trainers made on the floor, he trained his gaze on every alcove, every possible place she could be. He was more than halfway round when a spark of frustration crackled through him. Where the fuck was she?

  A couple more minutes’ fruitless search and Ryan began to wonder if he’d read the entire situation wrong. Perhaps she was currently seeking refuge from the strange guy who’d followed her through the market and into the cathedral, and was on the verge of calling the police to report a stalker.