Guest Blog: C. Margery Kempe
The Magic of the Serpentine
The magic of Kensington Gardens—home of Peter Pan—may be well known, but its adjacent neighbour, The Serpentine, may be less so. It got a big boost during the Olympics because the Triathalon began there.
Go Brownlees!
I set the opening of The Swan Prince there even though the initial spark of the idea came to me in Galway. Living in the west coast town you just can’t miss the swans everywhere you go. They rule the city! And don’t they know it, too. They pose for pictures or else sail regally up the Corrib.
The Serpentine is a more tame sort of place than Ireland’s wild coast, but it seems the perfect place for a swan prince in exile. After all it was created by the wish of Queen Caroline back in the 18th century. Although artificial, royal gardener Charles Bridgeman created it to appear natural.
In the 19th century the lake got a new notoriety when the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley’s pregnant first wife drowned herself in its waters. He married Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin just a couple weeks later. That tragedy was just one of several that coloured the mind who created the immortal Frankenstein.
The Serpentine is the border between the magic of Kensington Park and the more brisk busyness of Hyde Park, with its Speaker’s Corner and horse paths. As you cross over the Serpentine Bridge, it offers a moment of contemplation. The boaters dot its surface offering Londoners and tourists alike a little oasis of gentle fun in the midst of the bustling city.
And if you haven’t enjoyed the café at the water’s edge, you just haven’t had one of the nicest treats in London.
Here’s a little snippet of the novelette, where Lena and Charles head to the café after he dramatically rescues her brother Freddy from the waters:
Lena smiled and turned to the young man trying to dry his clothes with the rough blanket. “Can I buy you a tea and cake? And maybe you’ll tell me your name?”
When he laughed, Lena admired the easy smile he gave her, the deep blue eyes and the fine, strong features of his face. The startling white stripe in his hair didn’t appear to be any indication of age, for his face looked as young as her own.
“Charles Downing.” He shook her hand. Even chilled by the waters of the Serpentine, the warmth of his grasp and the feeling of his skin against hers, sent familiar feelings shooting through her. His gaze held hers. Then they both flushed and looked away from each other. What is this? Lena thought.
And with a grave seriousness, he turned his gaze to her brother and said, “Pleased to meet you, Freddy.”
“Let’s have cakes!” Freddy exclaimed, nearly tripping over his blanket and immediately dragging his new friend toward the café. Charles grinned back at Lena and allowed himself to be jerked along.
“Freddy, don’t pull on Charles like that. He doesn’t even know you.”
“It’s all right, really.” He laughed again.
Charles’s voice had a wonderful warm tone that caused little vibrations along Lena’s skin, waking her senses. Oh my. She laughed, too. She found it rare to be so instantly at ease with someone, and so fascinated. It had been so long since she had felt that frisson of instant fascination—and attraction.
Freddy jumped up and down at the counter, demanding hot chocolate and cake. Charles wanted to demur from anything, but Lena insisted he at least have a coffee. “If only to drive away the chill,” she said with mock seriousness.
They sipped their hot drinks and chatted between outbursts from Freddy, who saw the need to name everything he could in the café. In no time at all, Lena confessed her despair about her joblessness and Charles offered a sympathetic ear.
“You moan that your life is so dull and then when something catastrophic occurs, you realise just how good things had been.” He sighed and looked away.
“Ah, you too?” Lena watched the faraway look in Charles’ eyes. A shadow crossed his face, as if a storm had blown in from the coast. “I’m glad I have my folks to rely on, but it’s a bit miserable feeling, as if I have no say-so in my own life.”
Charles gave her a rueful smile. “I no longer have family to protect me. I suppose I should be happy enough on my own, but I envy your safety net.”
Lena put a hand over his. “How awful to be on your own!”
Charles shrugged, but he didn’t remove his hand from under hers. “We do what we can with the fate we’ve been handed.”
“Why don’t you come to tea?” Lena asked, surprising even herself with the sudden inspiration. “We can always add one more place.” Don’t push, Lena, maybe he has a girl friend. Or boyfriend. Or somewhere to be.
Charles smiled, but with regret. “I can’t do that. But tomorrow . . . would you like to meet up for lunch?”
Lena balanced her initial regret against this new possibility. “Sure. Where shall we meet?”
“Peter Pan?”
Lena grinned. If there were anything that could make this handsome man even more appealing to her it would be a fondness for Pan and his statue, her favourite spot in Kensington Park.
“What time?”
C. Margery Kempe is a writer of erotic romance distinguished by its humour, intelligence and fearless sensual pleasures. Her stories range from contemporary thrillers to medieval era fairy tales. An English professor by day, she also writes on medieval literature, film, creative writing and New Media, as well as humor, drama, mainstream and genre fiction under her real name and non-explicit romance as Kit Marlowe.
Tuesday – Headed to The Vatican Museum (which was a smart move considering the crap weather). Spent many, many hours exploring, and bemoaning a lack of places to rest. Giggled in the Sistine Chapel at the members of staff going “Shhhhhhhhhhhh!” as loudly as possible – much louder than the noise anyone else was making. Wasn’t the only one leaving the Sistine Chapel and wandering through subsequent rooms saying “Shhhhhhhhh!” Headed out into the rain, then back around the outside of the enormous walls of the city within a city (okay, I technically could have called my blog post a tale of three cities. But it doesn’t sound as good) to St. Peter’s Square and St. Peter’s Basilica. Enjoyed pretending I was in Angels and Demons, checking out the tiles on the floor that Robert Langdon uses to solve one of the puzzles. Fortunately, there were no dead people – prefiriti or otherwise – anywhere. Explored the basilica, wondering how I was getting away with spending so much time in holy places without being struck down, saw my first ever Swiss Guard (yes, they really do dress like that!), and then headed back to our accommodation. The marble floors throughout the Vatican, and the hard pavements are really not kind on feet.
Wednesday – sunny, hurrah! Very fortunate, since the Colosseum was our first stop, and the place doesn’t have a roof. Breezed right through the queue thanks to our Roma Passes (seriously, if you go, and are visiting more than one place, get one. It’s worth it just to skip the queues and includes Metro and bus passes) and stepped into…. awe. The place is huge, as you’d expect, and despite the crowds, it still seems to have an atmosphere about it. We spotted lizards zipping about the place, eavesdropped on a tour guide and gleaned some information, took loads of photos and generally just wondered what it would have been like back in the day. Not such a nice place to visit, I imagine.
When we were done, we headed across the road to the Roman Forum (skip the queues using your Roma Pass again) and Palatine Hill. Again, the place was just incredible. It’s a mish mash of old homes, churches, political buildings, gardens, and much, much more. We spent a good couple of hours here and didn’t see it all. If you’re really interested in ruins and things, you could probably spend a whole day here. Also paused to take a photo especially for 
No further words are necessary for The Hard Rock Cafe. Okay, maybe a few. Burgers, memorabilia, very full up. Next stop, The Trevi Fountain. Managed to get there despite vagueness of map and some Italian roadsigns which were pointing the wrong way. Risked life and limb crossing the road (try and avoid crossing the road in Rome. Seriously.) and finally emerged into a square packed full of people. Turned around to see what they were all looking at. There it was! Way more impressive than I was expecting, The Trevi Fountain is so much more than a fountain. I was expecting water squirting out of the ground. But no, this thing takes up the entire backend of a huge building and is just a piece of art. You really have to see it to believe it. Or look at my photos on 
Next stop, The Spanish Steps. More guesswork involving my map and sense of direction. And we got there, hurrah! Came out at the top of the steps and looked down. The view itself is not particularly impressive, but the steps are, and I found myself comparing the area with Montmartre in Paris. It seemed very arty and had a very laid back, bohemian feel to it. OH and I walked down the steps to see the view in reverse, lots of photos, then climbed back up the steps. Big mistake! If you head towards the Metro station from the bottom, if you go to the right, there’s a lift that takes you up to the top of the steps. Wish we’d known that before, especially since the Metro station is at the bottom, so we climbed the steps, only to get the lift back down. Rather dull, I know, but you’ll thank me for that piece of information if you’re ever there.
Thursday – sunny again, whoop! Didn’t go into the city, but at the recommendation of 
Visited to take part in some of the celebrations for the Queen’s Jubilee. Monday night, headed to Hyde Park to watch the concert on the big screens. Pretty good, not all the music was to my taste, but it stayed dry, there was a fun atmosphere and then we ran away before Paul McCartney started making a noise. Tuesday, went to stand on the streets to wave at the Royals as they headed past in their carriages up to Buckingham Palace. Ended up standing pretty much opposite Downing Street. Plenty of men in uniform kept me entertained, while the appearance of one of OHs favourite female newsreaders did the same for him. All the standing around waiting was broken up by an arsehole of a “Cockney Geezer” deciding to pick a fight with me, then getting seriously narky because I stood up for myself. He then pissed off to the pub, leaving me smug, but still with achy feet and knees. So much standing.
But… it was worth it! Saw The Queen and Prince Charles with his horse (also known as Camilla – the American girls standing in front of us did not like Camilla), then the lovely Wills and the gorgeous Kate (she really is gorgeous. Hate her. LOL), along with my future husband, Harry. Hey, Wills was my first choice, but he’s taken now, so Harry will have to do. Think him and his mischievous ways would probably suit me better, anyway. 😉 As soon as they passed by, we elbowed our way through the crowds. Some genius decided it would be a good idea to close Westminster Tube station (note for next time guys, why not just station police at the entrances and let a few people down at a time?) so we had to fight our way across Westminster Bridge and use Waterloo station. Back at our accommodation, we got in just in time to see the Queen on the balcony. Headed out to our own balcony to see the fly past in the distance, then quickly back inside again to see it on TV. Then time for some chilling out, some delicious food (OHs aunt is an awesome cook) and back up north.
