Introducing themselves as William (a teacher) and Mary (a doctor), they welcomed Dick to the neighbourhood. On the short ride down they asked Dick about himself and what he did for a living; he told them about moving to the area and his recent job interview at the Ministry and they wished him the best of British luck. It turned out they lived in the apartment opposite. After saying their goodbyes in the lobby William and Mary turned right out of the apartment block on to the street. Dick didn’t really want to undergo any further questioning so he turned left. After a short while Dick checked that William and Mary weren’t following him; they weren’t. They continued to walk down the street in the opposite direction. However just as they were about to disappear around a corner they suddenly both turned around, saw Dick looking at them, and gave him a knowing wave. Of course, it could have been a friendly wave, but given the circumstances, Dick had his doubts.
Even in the short ride in the elevator he felt that William and Mary seemed over-interested in his background. He wasn’t sure if this was just their natural neighbourly inquisitiveness, or because they were two members of the Party whose job was to keep him under surveillance and look for any signs that he wasn’t quite who he seemed. Maybe, Dick thought, following the interview the Party already had doubts over his identity and they were waiting for him to say something or do something that would trip him up. As a precaution Dick decided he would treat anyone he met as if they were a Party spy. Heeding advice from an old condom slogan, he decided it was far, far better to be safe than sorry.
Dick spent the day experiencing what it was like to live as a real New Victorian. He went looking for a coffee shop but the nearest he could find was a quaint tearoom that served eighteen varieties of English tea and a selection of muffins and buns. Naturally, Dick smiled at the word buns, much to the confusion of the demure waitress who served him. Sitting in a window seat, Dick read one of the morning’s newspapers which seemed full of the same sort of propaganda as the early morning TV broadcast. It seemed the Party had created stability and prosperity throughout the country but at the high cost of personal freedom. Nowhere in the entire newspaper, or indeed any of the other papers or periodicals that Dick read that morning did he see any example of sexual freedom or expression. There was a fashion spread in one of the magazines all about the latest bustles, and another about knickerbockers. And they were the sexiest things he saw.
Navigating via his street map Dick left the tearoom and walked some more until he reached a park with a boating lake. He was immediately struck by how family-orientated the New Victorians were. Husbands and wives were accompanied by smartly-dressed children walking obediently alongside or being pushed in prams. Dick noticed that these people didn’t really walk, they strolled, seemingly oblivious to any of the time-pressures that Dick was used to. The more he watched them, the more Dick felt he was in a scene right out of Mary Poppins. To most people this would have been comforting, but for Dick, this just reminded him that right now he should have been in another movie. One of his own. Feeling maudlin is a bad enough state to be in but Dick suddenly also found himself gripped by a sense of melancholia. Combining like a chemical formula, the result of these two emotions bonding was a feeling of loathsome self-pity. Dick slumped down on a park bench feeling the weight of his own sadness, the responsibility that had recently been heaped upon his shoulders and, of course, the knowledge that he was now well and truly trapped in this new world.
‘Jeremy! Jeremy!’, a female voice shouted.
Lost in his thoughts, Dick failed to hear his name being called. Of course, it wasn’t his real name, which was another reason why he didn’t take much notice at first.
‘Jeremy!’. The voice was louder. And nearer.
Dick still didn’t realise he was being addressed but the persistent calling made him look up.
‘Jeremy? Are you all right?’
The penny dropped. Dick shook himself out of his daze to see William and Mary standing in front of him. He panicked and in a reflex move, assumed his defensive kung fu pose, much to the astonishment of his new neighbours.
‘Sorry. I was daydreaming’, Dick stammered.
‘What were you thinking about?’, William enquired.
‘Er… about my job interview’, Dick replied, pleasantly surprised how quick-witted his reply was.
‘Are you still nervous about it?’, Mary asked sympathetically.
‘Of course’, Dick answered, as earnestly as he could. ‘I really want this job. I feel I’ve got a lot to offer to the Party and really want to assist them in their objectives. They stand for everything I stand for. It’s so important that we maintain the ethical high ground and guard against moral turpitude…’
Dick stopped speaking, aware that he was in danger of sounding far too phoney and because he wasn’t really sure what ‘moral turpitude’ meant; he’d heard someone say it once and thought it made him sound clever. It was one thing to be loyal to the Party and quite another to sound like he was giving answers he thought his neighbours, whoever they really were, wanted to hear.
‘I concur entirely’, commented Mary.
William nodded in agreement, adding, ‘I bet a hearty luncheon will help you take your mind off the wretched interview. It will be our treat to welcome our new neighbour. It will be a good opportunity to get to know you.’
Mary looked Dick in the eye adding, ‘Who would have thought we’d bump into you so soon?’
‘I know’, Dick added with a very weak smile. ‘What are the chances of that happening? Unless of course, you’ve been following me all morning’.
Thankfully Dick didn’t say that last bit but he thought it — and he believed it to be true.
Dick, William and Mary ate lunch in the park at a small café overlooking the boating lake. It was a friendly, enjoyable meal of cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches cut into neat triangles and served with a small side salad, followed by rhubarb pie and custard. Dick soon felt at ease with the company but still remembered to keep his guard up. Throughout, Dick drew on his acting skills to remain cautious while still appearing friendly. It was a tough balancing act but Dick was pretty sure he managed to pull it off. The lunch continued into mid afternoon, fuelled by a number of small glasses of sweet dessert wine. Dick wondered if his hosts were plying him with alcohol in an attempt to get him to loosen his tongue however all it did was make him feel maudlin again. Trapped in this future, he wasn’t sure when he’d ever have a chance to use his loose tongue again.
Taking a slow walk home, Dick was invited into William and Mary’s apartment to play some amusing parlour games; Charades, I Spy and Blindman’s Bluff. Although these were not really amusing at all, these games were apparently a staple diet of home entertainment in this era. Afterwards they all watched a television programme about the pioneers of bridge building. At ten o’clock William and Mary announced they were going to retire for the evening. Dick was horrified that his neighbours were going to bed at this time in order to get a good night’s sleep before church. And he was even more horrified to hear that they insisted that he joined them in worship. Dick had only been to church five times in his life, for four weddings and a porn film, ‘The Sexorcist‘ (he played Father O’Tool who had to banish demons from several young women by taking them up the aisle).