Find Love in London

I fly half of the world from Shanghai to London to get my master’s degree, but I can’t deny that I also dream of being swept into a whirlwind romance and falling in love with a blue-eyed boy. Twelve hours ago, I said goodbye to my parents and Emma, my best friend, who can rattle off the top five fictional men I want to marry in ten seconds. In front of the departure hall, my mama, who couldn’t stop crying since we entered the airport, hugged me tight and told me to enjoy my new life. Emma, also red-rimmed, gave me a long hug and told me she’d miss me every day. My papa, a tough guy who never cries, was also quite affected by the emotional atmosphere at the airport. After wiping off his tears secretly, he hugged me and told me to be safe. Now I’m standing at the Arrivals of Heathrow Airport alone, two huge suitcases in tow and one bulging tote in the crook of my arm, lost and confused. I thought I’d brim with happiness when I finally arrived in the UK where I’d dreamed of going all my life. But…on the contrary, I’m engulfed by loneliness and anxiety. Around me, people hurry past. But I freeze to the spot, unsure where I should go and what I should do. Then the phone I clutch in my hand buzzes, and a message appears on the screen. It’s from Mr. Chen. He tells me he’s standing next to a WHSmith in a red jacket. As the number of Chinese international students soars in the UK, some Chinese immigrants start to make a living by offering airport pickup service. Mr. Chen is one of them. Another King’s student recommended him to me, saying he’s a reliable driver who charges a reasonable fee, so I paid him a £30 deposit and asked him to drive me to Springfield hall, King’s student accommodation. Looking up from my phone, I scan the crowd and spot Mr. Chen at once. His red jacket is conspicuous amid a host of black coats. Seeing him instantly reduces my anxiety. At least, I’ll be driven to Springfield hall safely. I wave at him and move my suitcases clumsily across the hall. “Cassie, right?” Mr. Chen scuttles over, a friendly smile on his face. His Chinese is heavily accented, which reveals he’s from the southern part of China. “Yes, I’m Cassie. Nice to meet you, Mr. Chen.” I smile back. “Nice to meet you. Let me help you with the suitcases.” Mr. Chen takes the bulky suitcases from my hands before marching toward the exit. “My car is in the parking lot.” “Thank you.” I jog a few steps to keep pace with him. “Did you have a good journey?” Mr. Chen asks casually as we weave through the parking lot. “Good, but tired.” I bend my neck sideways to reduce the tension. My whole body hurts after being crammed into the little space for more than ten hours. “Long-haul flights must be tiring. Have a good rest after you get home.” Mr. Chen stops behind a silver car and presses a button on his car key. “It’s my car. I’ll put the suitcases into the trunk, and you can get into the car first.” “Thank you.” After getting into the backseat, I dump my tote on the seat beside me and massage my right arm slowly. With my laptop inside, my tote is very heavy. Mr. Chen gets in the car a few moments later. After confirming the destination with me again, he starts the ignition and eases the car out of the parking space. Then the car zooms out of the airport and moves toward the place I’ll call home for the next nine months. While Mr. Chen is talking to someone on the phone in a Chinese dialect that I don’t quite understand, I look out of the window. Gloomy sky and dark clouds. It seems a heavy rain is going to pour down. I roll down the window, and a gust of wind blows in, making my hair whip around my face. With a small surprised cry, I quickly roll up the window to block the wind. As I finger-comb through my wind-blown hair, I suddenly feel a jag of nostalgia. I miss my parents. I miss Emma. I miss my home. I miss the sun. I miss cars that have driver’s seats on the left side. With an inaudible sigh, I snap a photo of the unappealing views outside and send a message to our family group chat to tell my parents that I’ve landed safely. Of course, I don’t show my upset or homesickness. Cassie: Landed safely! On my way to the flat. My mama must be waiting for my message, because she texts back immediately. Mama: Congratulations, Cassie baby! Your new life has started! Mama is so happy for you! Mama: It looks cold outside. Remember to put on more clothes and stay warm!! My lips curl up. My mama’s cheerfulness never fails to cheer me up. Cassie: It’s not cold in the car, mama. Papa: You’re with the Chinese pickup guy, right? Did you take a photo of his license plate? Check the map every five minutes. Make sure you’re on the correct road. The texts show my parents’ different personalities well. My mama is cheerful, optimistic and adventurous, whereas my papa is cautious and protective—the opposite of adventurous. In my family, my mama is the one who pushes me forward and encourages me to try new things. And my papa is the one who pulls me back, tucks me under his wing and reassures me I don’t have to do the things that I don’t want to do. Also, my papa is constantly worried about my safety, because he thinks the world is full of creepy guys who lurk behind, ready to pounce on innocent and defenseless girls. Honestly, I’m surprised my overprotective papa will agree to let me study in London alone. But my mama has great powers of persuasion. Cassie: Don’t worry, papa. Mr. Chen seems a nice guy. Cassie: I just checked the map, and we’re on the correct route. Also I took the photo. I click open my photos and send the license plate one to the group chat. Papa: Good. It won’t hurt to be extra careful. Mama: Stop texting in a moving vehicle, Cassie baby. It might get you dizzy and nauseous!!! Papa: Text us when you get home. I won’t sleep until you’re home safe. Papa: And remember to check the map. Cassie: Okay. Don’t worry. I’ll text you when I get home. I close my phone, put it on my lap and continue to look out of the window.