Forget to Remember

it.”
    ***
    Carol celebrated with another hamburger at McDonald’s. She had her modeling money in her purse. She had come close to breaking even since she’d been here, in spite of taking tours of places like the Tower of London with its costumed Beefeaters, seeing a Shakespeare play at the Globe Theatre, and watching the show Mamma Mia at the Prince of Wales Theatre.
    What she hadn’t done in the last few days was find any more information on Cynthia or Aiko. She had squeezed all she could from Lord Binghamton, Sean, Melanie, and Andrew. Sean had told her where some of the young artists and models were living, and she had gone there and talked to a few, but they were too new to London to have known the missing girl.
    She’d completed her commitment to Lord B and had some fun. Now it was time for her to get back to work.
    ***
    The sky was gray, and it was drizzling rain off and on as Carol got off the train at Crowborough Station. She could probably take a taxi, or even a bus, but she didn’t know exactly where she wanted to go. She figured it was somewhat less than two miles to the center of Rotherfield. Her North Face protected her from the weather. She wore her backpack and carried the suitcase, switching hands frequently.
    She could see more of the country while walking than riding. She walked on the right, facing traffic, because the road was narrow and she had to constantly be on the alert for oncoming cars, stepping off the road when two cars passed each other. Even so, she felt comfortable and enjoyed the scenery that changed from urban to rural and back again as she approached Rotherfield.
    She was glad of the sidewalk that materialized as she came to the center of Rotherfield, because when cars were parked on the street, as they were now, it was reduced to one-way traffic, with drivers headed in opposite directions having to take turns to get through the bottleneck. She came to what was probably the main road through the village and strolled along it, admiring the old buildings.
    She spotted an old brick building containing a pub, the Queens Arms. That might be a good place to start. Besides, she was hungry and thirsty. Carol went in, parked her pack and suitcase at a small table, and went to the bar. She ordered a sandwich and a half-pint of lager from the bartender—she was afraid a full pint would put her to sleep. As she paid, she asked whether he knew of any place to stay.
    The red-faced bartender gave her a smile. “You’re in luck, lass. We happen to have a room available for tonight. Finish your food and you can have a look at it.”
    Gratified things were going so well, Carol ate beside the brick fireplace that had a fire in it to ward off the chill. There were a number of customers who were talking and joking, probably locals, but she also saw several couples who looked more like tourists. When she finished, the wife of the bartender took her upstairs and showed her the room. It looked nice enough, and they agreed on a price.
    Seeing a chance to get more information, Carol found out her name was Lydia. She told Lydia she was looking for a woman who might be a schoolteacher and had walked the End-to-end.
    Lydia laughed. “Rotherfield’s not a large place, but that’s not much information with which to find someone, and I’ve lived here all my life. The closest school is a primary school. You wouldn’t have a hint of a name, would you, or know what age she teaches?”
    Carol admitted she didn’t have that information. This might be a wild goose chase, as she had heard Mrs. Horton say. The woman said she would call some of the local schools and make inquiries. Carol protested she could do it herself if she had their phone numbers, but the woman insisted, saying she could do it more efficiently.
    Overwhelmed by this offer, Carol thanked her profusely and offered to pay her.
    “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t found anything. If I do, the best thing you can do for us is to spread the word in the States about Rotherfield and the Queens Arms.”
    Carol laughed. “That I’ll be happy to do.”
    ***
    She spent the afternoon walking around Rotherfield, dropping into several retail establishments and visiting the ancient Church of St. Denys. The most notable thing about the churchyard, other than the stone church, itself, which still appeared to be in good condition, was an old tree in front of the church building with branches spreading out at odd angles propped up by a number of logs.