What Happens in London

By Jen McConnel

Four countries.
Three girls.
Three loves.
One adventure abroad they'll never forget.

Sarah landed in London, just hoping to leave her home behind and escape her family. But she didn't plan on falling headfirst into Carson's arms.

Get ready for a summer of self-discovery and romance in the first of the New Adult novella series, Adventures Abroad!


Praise for What Happens in London:

"Travel through London with Sarah, you'll squee, laugh and swoon at her adventures, I know I did!"- Lisa Burstein, author of Sneaking Candy

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
• Release date: Jun 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781619637894

Jen McConnel

Jen McConnel first began writing poetry as a child. Since then, her words have appeared in a variety of magazines and journals, including Sagewoman, PanGaia, and The Storyteller (where she won the people's choice 3rd place award for her poem, “Luna”). She is also a former reviewer for Voices of Youth Advocates (VOYA), and a proud member of SCBWI, NCWN, and SCWW. A Michigander by birth, she now lives and writes in the beautiful state of North Carolina. When she isn't crafting worlds of fiction, she teaches writing composition at a community college. Once upon a time, she was a middle school teacher, a librarian, and a bookseller, but those are stories for another time. Follow Jen on Twitter @Jen_McConnel, and visit www.jenmcconnel.com to learn more.

Book preview

—Sarah

Chapter One

If I had to change one more disgusting diaper, I would scream.

Grimy hands tugged on the bottom of my long teal tunic, and I closed my eyes. What is it, Gracie?

My tummy hurts.

I tried not to gag as I threw the wet wipe I’d been using in the diaper pail, and I finished up with Bailey. What do you want me to do?

Make it stop.

Look, kiddo, I have to take care of your brother right now. I think he’s sick.

She clutched my leg, wrapping her body around my knee and burrowing her face in my leggings. I’m sick, too, Sarah. Her red curls made her look like a miniature version of me, and sometimes people who saw us in the park assumed she was my sister or my daughter, but the truth was, I was just the nanny.

I sighed and gently shook my leg. One kid at a time.

She hung on tighter. No.

Just then, Bailey broke into a wail that pierced my ears. It was worse than nails on a chalkboard.

What’s wrong, little man? I tried to coo, tried to keep the tension out of my voice, but my nerves were shot. This so wasn’t what I’d envisioned when I signed up to be an au pair.

Snapping Bailey’s onesie, I scooped him up and tried to walk away, but his sister was still wrapped around my leg. Grace, let go.

No.

Gracie, do it now.

Uh-uh.

Deep breath, Sarah.

Before I could tell her to go play with her toys, she threw up. All over the floor and my bare feet.

~

By the time Mrs. Johnson got home, I had cleaned up the mess, put Bailey in his crib with his bottle, and sent Gracie to bed. I was ready to pass out, too, but I didn’t want Mrs. Johnson to wake up the next morning with two sick kids and wonder why I hadn’t told her. I was on my third cup of tea by the time she breezed through the door to the flat.

She took one look at me and sighed in sympathy. Rough day, Sarah?

I nodded. They’re both sick. I’m not sure what they’ve got; you might want to take them to the doctor tomorrow.

She unwound her silk scarf and hung it on the hook beside the door. Oh, tomorrow. You’ll have to do that. Something came up at the gallery.

I stared at her, not understanding. It’s my day off.

I know, dear, and you deserve it, but I simply couldn’t say no. It’s a benefit luncheon, and of course the curator has to be there, rubbing elbows with all our lovely donors. A real bore if you ask me, but someone’s got to do it.

I stared at her, feeling the frustration of the day wash over me. The urge to burst into tears tugged at my chest, but I tried to ignore it. Mrs. Johnson, I can’t . . . I already have plans, I lied, hoping my cheeks wouldn’t flush and give me away.

She frowned. Isn’t there any way you can change them?

I shook my head. No. I’ve been looking forward to tomorrow all week.

My boss sighed, slipping off her black stilettos and wandering into the kitchen. Are you doing all right here, Sarah? I heard her open the fridge door, and I waited to answer until she was back in the room. She reemerged after a moment, carrying a paper takeout container and shoveling chow mien into her mouth. Well?

I paused, uncertain of what to say.

Come on, Sarah. You don’t expect to pretend that you’ve settled in just fine. She sighed. I was worried about that; the agency warned me that hiring a foreign girl would bring extra problems.

No, there aren’t any problems! I hurried to assure her. And besides, London doesn’t really feel that foreign.

She snorted. Just because you can speak the language doesn’t mean it’s your home, dear.

I dropped my eyes. I know. It is different, but I think I’m settling in fine. That was a lie; I’d been crying myself to sleep most nights ever since I got there, and even after three months, London still felt strange. Even though there wasn’t much about my home to miss, it was still really hard starting over alone, and harder still taking care of a sixteen-month-old and an almost four-year-old. But I didn’t want to risk my job, no matter how rough the day had been.

Mrs. Johnson sighed again. I just don’t know if it’s working out.

I looked up at her, desperate. Are you firing me?

She shook her head. No, not exactly. But I am encouraging you to try a little bit harder, or we’ll be having this conversation again very soon. She tapped the side of the takeout carton thoughtfully. Let’s talk about this again next week, after Gracie’s birthday party. And in the meantime, try not to mope around so much. Things aren’t that bad, right?

I swallowed nervously. Yes, ma’am. After a moment’s hesitation, I asked, Will I still be able to take my day off tomorrow?

Her gold eyes met mine. Do you really think that’s what you should be concerned with right now?

I heard the implicit threat in her words, and I shook my head. I guess not. I’ll take the kids to the doctor first thing in the morning.

Good! She stood up, smiling. I’m so glad we had this little chat, Sarah.

I forced a smile. Me, too. You bitch.

After I’d locked myself in my small bedroom, I flopped down on the bed in despair. I’d really been looking forward to having a day off; the kids were cute and everything, but nights like that one reminded me that I wasn’t a mom or anything and I wasn’t obligated to love them all the time. Still, I didn’t want to endanger my job. Even if I hadn’t been all that happy since coming to London, I didn’t see an alternative. Mrs. Johnson was thoughtless sometimes, but she paid me well and I could tell she really loved her kids. I hadn’t met Mr. Johnson in the time I’d been living with the family, and the one time I brought him up, Mrs. Johnson clamped her teeth shut and shook her head.

He travels for business, she’d finally said. The children don’t really know him.

I’d dropped the issue. I could understand having a family member you didn’t want to talk about. It was sort of twisted, but when I found out their dad wasn’t in the picture much, I’d been a little jealous of Gracie and Bailey. Sometimes, I wondered how different things would have been for me growing up if my dad hadn’t been around.

Sighing, I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. There was no sense worrying about the life I’d left behind. I would just have to try harder to make this new life work out, and if that meant giving up my day off, then it was the price I’d have to pay. Wearily, I lay down, staring up at the ceiling and trying to will myself to sleep.

Even though I needed my rest more than ever, when I finally fell asleep, I slept fitfully. My dreams were punctuated with nightmares of baby poop, bodily fluids, and, underneath it all, my father’s biting words.

Chapter Two

I woke up to Gracie bouncing up and down on the foot of my bed. Hurry up, hurry up!

I groaned. Gracie, could you please stop moving? I have a headache.

Are you sick, too?

I shook my head and looked at her. You seem like you’re feeling better.

She frowned. Still sick.

Fine. I stretched my arms overhead. Let me get dressed, and then I’ll take you and your brother to the doctor.

"Weeeeee!" she called, vaulting off my bed and running out into the hall. I snorted. No way was that child still sick, but since I already had to take Bailey to the doctor, I might as well have them look at Gracie, too.

I scrambled out of bed, pulling on my jeans and throwing on a T-shirt that was only slightly stained. My clothes were a little looser than they had been when I got to England, but I figured they just must have stretched out or something. My thighs still felt huge, and I hated the way my jeans