September 21st, 1982

Isabella was a day away from starting school, and genuinely terrified. Every time Mary brought it up, Isabella did whatever she could to divert the conversation. She got so good at changing that particular subject that she had no idea Mary had worked very hard to find a place that would fit Isabella's needs as much as she possibly could.

Not only was it posh, private, and the most expensive school in all of London, but it was literally called The American School in London.

With one day left until she started school, Isabella knew she had no way around thwarting Mary's efforts. She was either going to be dropped off the next morning in an area of London she knew nothing about, or she'd do the damned thing and let Mary take her around the area first.

When Mary didn't get into their town car, and Isabella stood tugging at the passenger door handle, Isabella simply stared at the woman in pure confusion.

A smile played on Mary's lips. "I thought we'd take the underground today for our transport, what do you think?"

"A train?"

"No, we call it the tube," Mary walked around the front of the car and reached out her hand for Isabella to take it. "If it's also part of Transport for London, or TfL, and it's above ground, we call it the overground. If it's any other above ground train and it's not run by TfL, it's just a train."

Isabella made a funny face. "Basically, repeat that every day for the next six to eight weeks and maybe I'll catch on."

"You'll be a proper Londoner before you know it."

"Do you really think I can be one in such a short amount of time?" Isabella asked seriously. To her, it was a genuine question as any other. To Mary, it was disappointing. A few weeks in and she was still fixating on going home.

Mary held her tongue, not wanting to make Isabella feel pressured to stay, or feel bad about just how bad it made her feel. She was working so hard to make Isabella happy, and thought they had been making strides.

Oh well, Mary thought to herself. All you can do is your best.

"I think you absolutely could be, as long as you limit the influence Joseph has on you. He's as American as it gets, and even though he's been here for a couple years, England has not changed him a bit."

"I really like him," Isabella felt herself smile naturally at the thought of Joe, as Mary led the way to Earl's Court tube station. "He's... warm? It's hard to explain."

"He really likes you too, Isabella. He's a joy. Between us, he was in a bit of a funk before you came. I think it was clear he was missing home and now you've brought a piece of his home with you."

Isabella was thoughtful for a moment, pretending she was taking in her surroundings but really just needing a moment to process Mary's words. It felt good to know she had positively impacted someone at Garden Lodge, and not just the other way around. She had a very hard time expressing how she felt about any of them to their actual faces, so she settled with telling one adult how she felt about another. That was the best she could do at that time.

But, because of that, Mary was missing out. She had no idea how Isabella really felt about her yet, except for the fact that Isabella said she was so nice and then had been peppered with a million "thank you's."

Mary pushed her own ruminating aside and bought them tickets for the underground.

"So, the tube system in London looks very complicated, but once you get the hang of it, it you'll understand it in no time," Mary started, handing Isabella an orange ticket.

"Do I just slip this through here?" Isabella asked as they approached a few machines.

"Yes! Just put the ticket through and those sliding doors will open. Make sure you get through quickly before they close again."

Isabella did just that, and was followed closely by Mary. They stood on a tall escalator, and Isabella shuffled next to Mary on the lefthand side.

"Ah, just stand in front of me or behind me," Mary directed, gently pulling Isabella's arm to make way for the couple behind the girl. "We leave the left lane open so people can walk down if they want, and those who just want to stand in place do so on the right."

"Overground is not a train if it's TfL, stand on right unless I want to walk down..." Isabella muttered, getting behind Mary. "Got it."

"See? You're a pro already! Think you can get us all the way to St. John's Wood?"

~~~

Fukuoka, Japan.

In another part of the world, while Isabella and Mary were on their way to northwest London, Queen were undergoing a sound check at one of the last venues they were to perform in at the Hot Space tour.

This tour in particular saw many changes to Queen's usual show. For instance, it was the first that Queen used a keyboardist in the background. And dissimilar to most of their previous tours, where the band would normally need a few concerts to get comfortable with the setlist, it took over a month for them to do so. Even though Brian finally cracked the code in the month of May and they thought they were finally settled on one, they still continued to "experiment" throughout the year.

Hence the argument that was currently happening as they rehearsed on stage, because Roger said:

"I can't wait for this shitter of a tour to be over. I don't know what's been worse, touring this album, or making it."

And then Freddie said:

"Do you want to say that to my face, dearie?"

And then Roger said:

"Why're you taking it personal, Fred? Huh?"

And then Brian said:

"Calm down, girls. Just two more shows and we don't have to see each other for as long as we so please."

And then John said:

"I thought we were having a nice time? Anyway, let's run it once more. Back Chat."

Phoebe and Terry were standing next to each other, both feeling exhausted out from on and off months of touring. They were grateful that the boys listened to John, giving them a few more minutes of peace before having to deal directly with Freddie in his dressing room. While they knew they couldn't be any more tired than the actual band was, at least the band didn't have to be with Freddie 24/7.

Now don't get Phoebe and Terry wrong...

"...Now don't get me wrong, I'd do anything for that man," Phoebe crossed his arms and leaned against a nearby amplifier. "But he's been somewhere else since we last left London."

"Somewhere else in that funny head of his, and someone else," Terry added, but a bit more quietly than Phoebe. "It has to be because of Isabella."

"Well, it's not because of Winnie. They haven't had a proper row since Kansas City. And that was just pent-up boredom. Freddie's great on the east or west coast. Anywhere else, he's borderline tyrannical. And imagine if Prenter was here right now?"

Terry shuddered. "We lucked out on that front... anyway, if Isabella had come when he wasn't touring, I think he'd be a lot less anxious."

"Right. She's spent the month forming a routine with Mary and Joe that he's not had a chance to be part of, and will come back into his home to that. He's going to be the odd one out, which is actually his own fault."

"Was he really that standoffish? I didn't see what went on inside the house- only him by the door for a second."

"I wouldn't say he was cold, but he wasn't the guy who could charm the socks off of anyone if he so wished to," Phoebe lowered his voice as the band stopped playing Back Chat. "Whatever he did or didn't do, clearly made Isabella anxious. She was so nervous around him, the poor thing."

Terry simply nodded. They couldn't risk Freddie hearing them, and he was already walking towards them, shirtless and in a pair of white jeans with a brown leather belt. Sweat gleaned on his neck.

"When we're finished here on Tuesday, we're not to go back to the hotel," Freddie began, motioning Phoebe and Terry to follow him. "I want all of my things packed and in the limousine. Straight to the airport."

Phoebe and Terry exchanged a knowing glance.

"Straight to the airport," Phoebe repeated as he shut the dressing room door behind them and walked towards the mini fridge. "The usual?"

~~~

Back in England, Mary and Isabella took to the streets of St. John's Wood, a wealthy area of leafy residential streets, known for Lord's Cricket Ground, the headquarters of English cricket, and Abbey Road Studios.

"Shall we grab a treat and go somewhere special before we see the school?" Mary asked Isabella as they exited the station. "The school is to the right, but if I remember correctly from signing you up, there's a nice high street just to the left."

"Yeah, that sounds great!" Isabella smiled, following half a step behind Mary.

Even though she had been in London for a few weeks, every new place she visited felt extremely foreign to her. Taking her aunt's advice, she was trying to be more positive about her new environment and despite how afraid she felt, do what she could in her mother's honor. As the red, double decker busses passed by her and the black cabs honked at each other, she took a second to remind herself to be grateful for the experience. She'd be back home before she knew it.

The two grabbed bagels at a deli and café with a green awning and an array of fruits and vegetables outside. Each holding a bagel wrapped in a napkin in hand, they headed back towards the main road. Isabella noticed Mary walking in a straight line, and not towards the school.

"I think it's that way?" Isabella said politely after she finished chewing her bagel.

"I said somewhere special first," Mary put an arm lightly around Isabella's shoulders. "It's sweet you think a trip to the café is special, but that's not the best I can do."

There was silence for a couple of minutes as the two made their way down a long street, that had a hospital on their right, and then a bunch of houses on their left.

Swallowing hard, Isabella brought the subject up of her mother for the first time with Mary:

"Do you know if my mom ever came here?"

Mary nearly stopped in her tracks, but tried to cover it up by quickening her stride a bit. "I- honestly, I don't know. She worked in the medical office that was on campus at Imperial, which is in South Kensington. She spent most of her time there as they housed her there too."

"How did you two meet, exactly?" Isabella continued, trying to fight the ache in her chest. "I know it was at Imperial, but I can't remember the details."

Mary grabbed Isabella's hand as they traversed the street at a zebra crossing. "It's all very anticlimactic! I was 20 and she was 24. It was one of Freddie's first shows with Roger and Brian. John hadn't joined the band yet. He was terrified and I promised that I'd be there in the audience for every show, and he could just look at me anytime I got overwhelmed."

Isabella couldn't imagine a world where Freddie Mercury would be scared of anything. He was a rockstar, for Christ's sake. She remembered being told that Freddie was likely more afraid of her than she was of him. It was all still hard to believe.

"That's sweet," was what Isabella settled for responding while Mary paused to finish the rest of her bagel.

"Freddie and I met when I was 19 and he was 24. Though older than I, he was still in so many ways, just a boy," Mary reminisced. "Anyhow, on one particular night, I had the worst period cramps and I was convinced I'd have to leave the show if I couldn't get my hands on any paracetamol. I had saved just enough money to get myself a bus ticket home that weekend, so I settled on finding any girl who could possibly help me get some medicine in me."

"And that was my mom?" Isabella said quietly as they approached a large group of people taking photos on and surrounding a zebra crossing that looked as normal as any other one she'd seen before, was.

"Sure was," Mary smiled, eyes glistening a bit in the sun. "The campus medical office had just closed but she let me in. She was the last one in there, finishing with some filing. Not only did she give me an entire pack of medicine free of cost, but also sent me with some feminine products. She was a breath of fresh air amidst the pompous minds of Imperial. I invited her to watch the gig with me and we got on swimmingly. Freddie thought she was a hoot."

Isabella felt herself getting choked up at the anecdote. Of course her mother did that- to Isabella, her mom was the nicest lady in the whole wide world. Mary noticed Isabella's breaths quickening a bit, her intake of air changing. She decided to change the subject, knowing Isabella would have replied if she could actually do so.

Poor angel, Mary thought.

"How much do you know about the Beatles?" Mary asked Isabella, looking towards the zebra crossing.

Isabella chucked her napkin in the bin next to them, and then slowly turned to Mary. A group of four boys were all lined up on the crossing, posing for a photograph as a line of cars waited for them to get off the road. "You're not saying..."

"Oh yes! The Abbey Road. Did your parents own the album?"

Memories became flooding back to her. "Yeah, one of dad's favorites. He used to hum Here Comes the Sun to me sometimes if I was having a bad day, I'd hear him from the kitchen or just outside my door while he got ready for work. I knew who he was doing it for but I never said anything. I wish I thanked him for being so sweet."

"If there's anything about you I know, dear girl, he knew you were appreciative," Mary smoothed a hand over Isabella's hair. "Even if you didn't say it."

"Thanks, Mary," Isabella sniffed a bit. "Now- this is so, so cool. Is the recording studio still being used, or is it more like a museum?"

"Let's cross," Mary cocked her head towards the special crossing. "There's a little gift shop down there and they should have some Beatles items on display. And I know for a fact it's still being used. Freddie and I were there a bit over a year ago when Stevie Wonder was being honored. We were given a tour and everything."

Isabella tried not to ask about Freddie nowadays, unless he was mentioned. She still had a million and one questions swimming in her head, and the closer the date came to when he was coming back, the more nervous she felt. Unlike the situation of her new school, asking questions and learning about him bit by bit made her feel somewhat more in control. She hoped that the less of an enigma he was the less she could be surprised by him.

"How is Freddie?" Isabella asked, following Mary into the giftshop.

"Probably best we don't talk about him in a personal sense, in a room surrounded by music fans," Mary said quietly, casting Isabella a sidelong glance.

Isabella's cheeks burned as she stared at John Lennon's guitar in front of her, encased in glass. "Right, sorry."

"It's alright, you'll get into the swing of things when it comes to him soon enough," Mary replied when they got into a quieter corner of the gift shop. "The more time you spend with him the more you'll know how to go about it all. You just haven't had a chance yet, but you will very soon."

Very soon.