Hedda served eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, toast, tea, and juice the next morning, Thursday. Viv ate her fill, kissing goodbye to her attempt to keep her weight down. "I cook a full English breakfast on Sundays, a proper fry-up. This is just the usual breakfast." Viv blinked, surprised. Her mother usually served cereal for breakfast. Oatmeal, maybe with raisins, was Sunday breakfast. "My son, Phil, and his wife come for breakfast before we go to church. Let me know if you want all of it, or what parts you do. There's also cereal, muffins, cold food every morning if you don't want hot, or you're in a hurry. Fill up, dearie, you've got a long day ahead of you. Tomorrow I go grocery shopping, and you can come if you'd like to see a bit of Chesterton."

Viv walked to the train station, looking at the small houses, the typical English stores—apothecary, tobacconists, a fish and chips restaurant. She carried a muffin Hedda gave her for a snack, and her travel cup was filled with tea she had poured over ice. Hedda had other American guests who'd wanted ice tea, and Viv could keep a pitcher in the fridge.

Chesterton University was the next stop from Coburg Station. She could walk if she wanted; it was only a mile. Viv decided to walk off her breakfast, and went along the city center. She strolled slowly, looking about at the shops and buildings, very English looking to her enchanted eyes. This burb hadn't been developed into the 21st Century, and had a welcoming, neighborly vibe. Hedda had mentioned there were zoning regulations that kept Chesterton small and local.

She came to University Station, where she would have gotten off the train if she'd ridden it. The Uni gates were a block away. She strolled across the campus and asked directions of a passerby. He directed Viv to the proper offices. After she'd paid her fees, met an advisor, gotten her schedule, and spoken with a clerk (clark) in the office for foreign students, it was lunchtime. She was hungry, and went to a small restaurant near the school recommended by the clerk in the foreign students' office.

The St. George and the Dragon was affordable, cozy, offered traditional English foods and everyday fare, and gave off a relaxed, jazzy vibe. A bead curtain separated the dining area from the hall to the restrooms, very 60's; the windows had pictures of George fighting the Dragon, and, according to history, winning. She got a cheeseburger, fries, and a bottle of apple juice and sat at a small table outside the café to relax in the sunshine and fresh air. She finished her meal, and walked around Chesterton for an hour before returning to Kenley Street.

Hedda was in the kitchen, fixing sandwiches for tea, and invited Viv to have a cup of tea with her. She asked about Viv's day, and told stories of her days in the theater. Viv was delighted to hear them.

"Sunday," Hedda said, "My other son, Freddy, and his wife are coming to tea. Ordinarily I don't provide tea for guests on Sunday, but as he is coming, you're welcome. I'd like you to meet them. If I'm not available to help you for some reason, you'd call on him."

"Thanks," said Viv.

"I'm making Sachertortes Saturday. Sachertorte is my Freddy's favorite, and I have an order for one from Mrs. Turman down the street. If you'd like to help me tomorrow, you're welcome."

"I'd love to," said Viv. "I've heard of Sachertorte, but never had it. Comes from Vienna, right?

"Right you are, Viv," said Mrs. Brownley. "Sacher was the assistant chef at the restaurant. Metternich, a famous prince, ordered a special dessert for a dinner. The pastry chef was out, so Sacher made this. It's still famous. Naturally, a genuine Sachertorte can only be gotten at the Hotel Sacher or its stores, but a version of the recipe is available online. I learned to make it when I was in Vienna on a film. The film had a scene requiring the cake, and I helped the cook when a chef was brought in to make several for the film. We needed more, so the cook and I made them."

"I'd love to try Sachertorte, Hedda."

"I love teaching how to bake. I've given a few workshops, but I don't have much time. Saturday, we'll go to the grocery store, so I can show you the way around town, and we'll make two tortes."

*

Viv returned to Uni on Friday, after shopping with Hedda, to learn her way around, buy books, and check out the theater and library. She went to the Fine Arts Department and found the theater unit.

A man with a trim afro was putting a notice on a bulletin board. He said, "Hi, can I help you?" He had a faint Scottish burr. She was startled to recognize Regan MacLeod. Regan had had a play in a theater in the West End, had written Highland Connection, a successful series for British TV, and his memoir was a best-seller.

"Hello, I'm Viv Groen. I'm taking classes here for the summer. I stopped by to learn my way around."

"I'm Regan MacLeod." He was tall with a short afro from his Nigerian mother. "I see you're in my Shakespeare class. We cover a lot, including a play at the RSC—the Royal Shakespeare Company."

"I know. I decided I couldn't come here without taking a class about Shakespeare," Viv said. "I'll be able to visit some of the places he went, and maybe some of the places he wrote about."

Regan laughed, throwing his head back with a hint of theatricality. "That's the way to look at it, lassie. Lot to see and do here."

The two talked for a short time, about Viv's teaching, and her plans for her summer in London. Another man, in his 70's, very English looking, receding white hair, blue eyes, straight backed, , tall, craggy features, dressed in a "bespoke" suit, which Viv would call tailored.

Reagan introduced them. "Your Grace, this is Viveca Groen, here to study theater for the summer. Viv, this is the Duke of Herford. He's a TV producer. His family seat is the location for filming Highland Connection."

Albert George Windsor, Duke of Herford, offered his hand and Viv shook it. "Pleased to meet you. Call me Viv, please," she said.

"OK, Viv. I hope you enjoy your summer here. I'm working with some student productions here, and perhaps you'd find something you'd like to volunteer for." His warm, velvet voice reminded her of someone.

"I'll check out the opportunities, thank you, sir. I love 'Highland Connection', and the scenery is so beautiful." She wasn't sure what to call him, but sir seemed safe. Your Grace sounded too formal. She'd call him what the other students called him, if she ever saw him again.

"We're holding a get-together tonight for students and friends, here, at 7:30," said Herford. "You're welcome to come. Meet the other students, find out more."

"I'd like that." She suddenly realized he reminded her of Ronald Colman, one of her favorite actors.

"Regan, I'll see you in class next week, if I don't make it to the meeting tonight. Nice to meet you, sir." She left and walked across the campus to the main gate.