1

Fred woke up. Right away it was there in his mind. His brain tried to ignore it and return to sleep. But it was there… The seed… The thought…. Fred simply felt he had to get up and blog.

Fred had always wanted to write a journal, and now he was creating a blog. Staring at the white space in the box on the screen his mind was wandering, he realised belatedly that writing a blog was quite different from writing a journal – unlike a journal there was every chance that this writing would be discovered and read. Yes, he could “hide” it by making his writing private with the little tick box, but now Fred realised excitedly that he wanted someone to read this.

Frederick Allsop had always disliked his given name. He especially disliked his Christian name and could only bear it abbreviated to Fred, but unfortunately this made him almost anonymous and also led most people to presume he was called Alfred. At which point he would be forced to correct them, which made it all the more painful. There were a number of rhymes he has also suffered as a child and he winced at the thought of them.

As he gazed at his computer screen however he at last saw something positive in his name – he had a title for his Blog. He would, of course, call it “Fred Blogs”. This pleased him more than he cared to admit. On the one hand he would be making use of his given name, and on the other he could both remain anonymous and lead people to assume his “real” name was other than Fred. Fred paused, well then if he was going to allow people to assume his real name was not Fred Blogs, then what name would he give them? He longed for something suave and sophisticated. Nothing too common like “Fred Allsop”. His online blogging persona would be someone with real command of the written word, someone who could with little effort turn their talents to literary creation, but who was for the moment slumming it in the blogosphere.

Fred thought hard. It took time, thinking hard did not come naturally to Frederick Allsop. Perhaps there was a picture of the man from the Black Magic advertisements, clad all in black and jumping to his motor launch. Perhaps the figure of Anton Mosseman was suggested by thinking of chocolates. It is just possible memories were stirred of admired Russian authors. It is quite possible all of these went through Fredericks mind….

But then his face became animated. He sat up straight and adopted the posture of a happy lemur at the table, hands perched over the keys as he began to type the name he seemed to pleased with…. “Anton Fehrnzeit”. Fred Allsop could not imagine a name farther from his own. What is more he noticed happily, the initials were shared but reversed! To his simple mind this was a portent, a sign that the persona of Anton would be entirely separate and almost a polar opposite to his own self. This really pleased Frederick. Frederick Allsop was not a person entirely comfortable with his lot. Nor was he at all satisfied with what he made of his lot. If there was anyone you could say was uncomfortable in their own skin, then perhaps that would have been Frederick Allsop. Fred scratched irritably at his underarm, he knew that if he were really such a man as the Anton Fehrnzeit he would never do such a thing, but then again he also imagined Anton would not be wearing the mixed Rayon/Cotton pyjamas which seemed just a little too small for him. No, Fred felt sure Anton would have a selection of loose fitting linen and never be forced to wear the cheap ones which Fred’s mother had provided for him.

With a grimace Fred returned his thoughts to the matter in hand, he did not want to delay and was determined that his blog should begin now – there has been long enough in his life without action and he was certain Anton would be a man of action. Ferhnzeit would never have sat scratching himself before the computer screen – he would be casually yet rapidly entering words which would pour seemingly effortlessly from his fingers flying over the keyboard to transfer his thoughts by a subtle alchemy from his mind to the screen. An alchemy which Fred hoped that he himself would master, one that would enable him to escape the narrow confines that seemed the lot of anyone born into the world of the Allsops.

The Allsops’ world was a circumscribed one, but the boundaries were nebulous in a microcosmic way. Ever since he had been a very small child Fred knew there was no chance of any holiday “on the continent” as his father referred to it. When he used the phrase “on the continent” one could imagine from his distaste that he were discussing incontinence or something equally distasteful, with a twist to his mouth and a disparaging air for those that were common enough to travel further abroad in their free time than the Allsops did. It was the same when it came to professions that Mr Allsop regarded as “not proper”, which could include seemingly innocuous ones such as architect, confectioner, or photographer. Fred could never decide on his career even for a moment as a child, fearing his fathers disapproval he would flit from choice to choice and never settle on any one in particular, not even for a moment, once his father was appraised of it. By the time he was eight he had learned not to voice any opinion when it came to future careers or job prospects whatsoever. So far as Mr Allsop was concerned Fred would be following in the family tradition and becoming an undertaker, just like Mr Allsop and his own father before him.

But now Fred has other hidden ambitions. He was determined that the blog should be a launching pad for them and this was why on waking it dominated his thoughts so much that he woke without any momentary sleepiness, but eager and ready to “blog”. Not only was he ready to blog, but despite his cheap pyjamas and towelling robe, Fred felt he in fact was Anton Ferhnzeit! No doubt his dreams had been along these lines. So we find Fred as he sets hands to the keys of his beige keyboard:-

Greetings from Fehrnzeit 0 COMMENTS NOVEMBER 7 Hello World! I am sure many of you reading this will know me , or know of me. I am Anton Ferhnzeit and of course with a name like that if you have met me you will not have forgotten me! But then, you would not forget me anyway, would you? I have such a lively, engaging, and frankly quite brilliant mind and such charm and wit combined with my devilish good looks. I know modesty does not become me, you would only detect the false misplaced sentiment behind it if you knew me. So – to those that know me – “Felicitations! You know what to expect and can enjoy my presence in the Blogosphere just as you have in my more mundane, everyday circles” And to those that do not “Greetings! You have come to the right place to be stimulated and amused! I intend to lift the quality of the blogosphere to new heights” How much further should I introduce myself – well I have given this some thought. A picture could be misleading and make you judge me to be vain, so you shall find none. A lengthy description is unlikely to do me justice either. My reputation precedes me if you know me already, making such a thing unnecessary. If you do not know me, then with my charming wit and repartée you soon shall and will be a richer person for it! On to matters more interesting than myself then! Yes there are some, even to me! Of course now that I have deployed my not inconsiderable intellect here I need a subject and a blog post to start this blog rolling. Speaking of which – impress me sufficiently and I shall award you the honour of a space on my blogroll – but for now it is gloriously empty. The subject of the moment is POSSESSION. You may find that a little odd for me, you may have noticed my generous nature. But there is more to possession than that. For example I possess a great deal of self-composure. I believe the Devil posesses the souls of those that do not hold on to their own. And last but not least I have found that when I meet a member of the so called “gentler” sex they invariably seek to “possess” me! Incidentally there is an excellent book of that name by A.S Byatt. I commend it to those readers who have not already enjoyed it. They say that possession is nine tenths of the law, and there’s good reason for that. I say that if we took the observation that “the love of money is the root of all evil” and changed it to the “desire to possess” (for surely if money is anything it is a tool for the purposes of mans’ possession? Of course, myself I am fortunate enough to possess more than ample resources to possess more or less anything I desire (including a member of the fairer sex if I set my mind to it!). But I may surprise you if I tell you that I aspire to relinquish the DESIRE to possess. Certain fundaments I insist that I not only possess but have complete dominion over, these include my wits and my sanity! Certain others I insist upon shunning and have a desire to dispossess, such as trouble and strife (and these are chosen with a view to the Cockney rhyming slang also, since I cherish my bachelor status!). I must leave you for a moment now – my manservant is drawing me a bath and I do so like it to be at the perfect temperature. Please could my fledgling audience consider what they possess and what desires possess them – I shall return when bathed and fed to consider further… Adios! … Returning to my screen after a splendid repast. I find my possession of my senses most necessary! And I am mindful of a poor chap who owes his life to the wonderful RAF emergency service. I just heard on the wireless that he suffered a stroke mid-air and lost his sight! Believe it or not he survived despite being alone. Coming to his senses (sans sight!) the poor chap radioed for help and an RAF crew were scrambled to intercept him at altitude and “talk him down” this they managed to do. The man was heard to grumble that he was concerned his landing was a little bumpy! But he did thank them for saving his life! There is a good tale to end my first blog posting on – so fellow readers of the Blogosphere, retain your senses and relinquish your possessions I say to you! It is clear which has the more value, to me anyway. Until tomorrow – Anton. Fred arched his back and stretched. It felt good now that he had made a blog post and officially introduced himself as Herr Fehrnzeit to the world. It seemed quite in accord with things that Anton should be fully acquainted with women and proud of his bachelor status. Although Fred had never dated a woman since leaving school some twelve years hence, he liked to think this was their loss and not his problem. Like Anton, he was quite proud of his bachelor status. Fred also liked his bath just so, and had interrupted his blog post at the call, not of a manservant, but of Margaret Allsop, his mother, who still ran his baths and checked the temperature was to his liking before cooking the family a full English breakfast.

So it was that as Fred slipped his pink form, still flushed from the bath and from the breakfast which lent an oily sheen to his complexion, out of the beige pyjama set and into his underwear and clothes. Today he selected his favourite polo neck jumper. Unlike his nightwear this was not beige, but a vibrant yellow. With this he selected his brown corduroy trousers, loafers, and a light tweed jacket. Thus attired he felt quite prepared to go out into the world with the knowledge that his alter ego was the suave Anton Fehrnzeit.

Turning to shut down the computer, Fred saw a flashing icon, he had Email. This was not uncommon, but you could see Fred’s eyes light up as he realised this was not his usual Viagra spam – no, someone had already made a comment upon his Blog! Excitedly Fred clicked to the admin panel to check if this was a genuine comment or spam, and saw that it seemed indeed genuine:-

Comments

1. Dear Anton It is a wonderful idea to try and relinquish the desire to possess in this world of greediness. Especially no one should seek to possess another person as it would be like forcing them to live in a cage. SEG DELETE EDIT SEG ON NOVEMBER 8, 2008, AT 03:06 PM

2

Lydia Dypchyk was extremely proud of her new computer, so much so that she had placed it on her small dining table, removing the dried flower arrangement to a side table. Her lovingly lacquered nails seemed to dance over the keyboard as she explored the internet, and a smile played over her lips only varying slightly in intensity according to the contents she found reflected on the screen which glowed before her. If one was unaware that this was a computer it could almost seem as if there were a small shrine or idol upon the table and she was making offerings and communing with a minor deity by the gestures of her finger tips.

Lydia was a voluptuous woman, but still of an age where every ounce of her physique seemed directed upwards and outwards. To any of the Lithuanian men-folk who dared to court her there is no doubt she was the model of what a woman should be like. But Lydia had no time for the men of Lithuania. She was determined to escape the small minded pettiness of her local village. Ever since she took her first English classes and met the adventures of the Brown family used as an example in the school test books Lydia had become gradually more obsessed with the desirability of such a life style. No horse and cart for the Browns when they ventured on a vacation, Mr Brown has an automobile which he would install the family into before departing for the most romantic of destinations, the seaside. This was another of Lydia’s dreams. Lithuania had no seaside, the Baltic was not a sea to Lydia’s mind, for it connected with no ocean. Lydia’s idea of the perfect romance was to be wooed by an Englishman like the dapper Mr Brown in a seaside town. Although Lydia had never seen the sea she had been to the Kaunas lagoon and so she felt she could dream with some authority. To her mind the Southern seaside towns of England epitomised romance, they had the combined connections of the Atlantic and North Sea. They had the fish and chips and the funfairs, with a pier to provide the perfect venue for a stroll towards the setting sun and perhaps an embrace and a kiss at the end of the day. Lydia still had very fond memories of her first kiss on the Melrage beach, she had been there for the schools only trip away from her native Vilnius and the head boy had been taken with her charms, Alfred had embraced her as she was overcome with yearnings for a REAL beach and not this native one of her homeland, looking West out on to the Baltic Sea. That kiss had confirmed what she suspected; no native of Lithuania could match the passion with which she imagined a “Mr Brown” might kiss her. To her imagination the “seaside” of Lithuania was as pale and imitation as the hesitant adolescent kiss had been. She had shrugged off Alfred and walked back to the hostel alone. Perhaps he took offence, perhaps not – Lydia did not care, all she knew was that the next time she kissed she wanted it to be with a man and not a boy and she wanted it to be not any man but an Englishman.

Lydia was possessed of an extremely practical and tenacious nature for a dreamer. She was at the age where her dreams were ambitions and for her nothing would stand in the way of this dream. Although her school days were some eight years distant now the day-dreams of Mr Brown, and his perfect nuclear family, with the car, the modern house, the trips to the seaside, the family pets and minor dramas of family life; this dream persisted and this computer was a step towards Lydia realising her dream for herself.

“Seek husband England talk” Lydia typed into her google search. She was shocked when up popped the story of British police hot on the trail of a husband they were seeking in connection with the murder of his wife! Then she turned her attention to the advertised sites and found more the sort of thing she had been hoping for… Surely now she had the computer she longed for her dreams of finding an Englishman to become her husband could not be far away. But how to begin her seduction over the internet? Lydia has been assiduous in her research whilst waiting for the computer though, and she knew there was a program for seeking to “chat” online with people. ICQ was named after the phrase “I seek You” in fact, all that Lydia was missing now was the third person, the “you”. The Mr Brown of her teenage dreams.

Lydia had installed ICQ on the computer when she was setting it up initially, but she was not happy with the searches it had allowed her. She needed a way to specify more closely the sort of man she would find attractive and who, eventually, she felt sure, would be very susceptible to her own charms. She had a quite specific idea of how to find the right sort of man, and it was not based on her early fantasies with the Brown family from the text book at school. Such ideas seemed childish to her now and she smiled at the thought of them.

During her school years Lydia had been quite a bright, if somewhat distracted young girl. If she had a subject she felt most drawn to it was probably English. But at the same time she was an avid reader in her mother tongue and the book which awakened her dormant sexuality was “The Year of the Lilies of the Valley” by Jurga Ivanauskaite. Sadly the beloved author had passed away now, but the wonderfully sensual if somewhat despondent characters lived on in Lydia’s memory. As she grew she came to appreciate the works of her very own home grown hero, Jurgis Kuncinas. Living in Vilnius everyone had heard of the man. But Lydia as a young person had rebelled against the authority of her parents, for whom such an author whilst admired was to them beyond their reach to read. Not so for Lydia. With her newfound attitude and a hair style and clothes to match such a counter culture author was just the ticket and to this day her much thumbed copy of “Tula” was a prized possession.

Lydia was thinking about these books and how she could find an Englishman who might appreciate these books. In her dreams he might even be an English author who could approach their mastery of her mother tongue with his own. But how to track down such a gem of a man? It seemed like seeking a needle in a haystack with the nature of the internet. Then Lydia remembered something her friend Olga had told her when she ordered this new computer, “When it comes you shall be able to write in a Blog Lydia! You can call it Uzupis Underground and make us all famous!”. Uzupis was the district of Vilnius Lydia lived in now she had escaped the confines of her parents, it was no coincidence that Kuncinas had also resided here.

With a playful tilt to her head Lydia bent to the keyboard again and typed Fred Brown Blogs into the search box and pressed enter. Right away she could see that the top entry was a blog and she pressed enter to reveal:-

Real men wear brown 0 COMMENTS NOVEMBER 12 Ladies, allow me to let you in on a little secret. The next time you are assessing a potential date, perhaps meeting a man for the first time, or maybe even just deciding whom might be worth your attention at a gathering of friends I have a rule of thumb you may apply. You may tell me if I am wrong, but I believe all real men will be found to wear brown. Please do not misunderstand, they will not wear exclusively nor uniformly brown, but it will be a major part of their wardrobe. The most stylish of men will of course have a splash of colour to attract your attention also. They say you might judge a man by his shoes, and what can be more classy than a stout pair of English Brogues? In brown,needless to say. Of course the shirt will often be white, but have you not noticed the chequered shirt with the brown stripes through somehow seems more manly? When it comes to suits and ties perhaps the rules change a little, but even then a touch of brown for the accessories will always make the real man stand out. Have you not noticed that all the most successful businessmen seem to bear a trusty battered brown leather briefcase? This item is as iconic to that man as the fendi baguette handbag might be to a woman, I am not sure if I need labour the point further ladies. Next time you assess a man bear in mind what you read here. And let me know – am I not right that the real man will be the one in brown? Ciao readers, Anton Lydia was smiling broadly. Here was a man who seemed quite the English eccentric, but much as she admired his command of the English language she could not help feeling he needed to be taken down a peg or two. So it was with some excitement that she saw there was an “About me” link and she clicked without further delay, to read:-

About Fred Allsop It must seem quite extraordinary for you, to find this chap called Fred Allsop writing a blog I expect. Perhaps a book should not be judged by the cover? Then again was it the title of Fred Blogs that made you want to take a look. Well, no doubt there is someone out there called Alfred Allsop, but could that really be the author of a blog like this? A blog which verges on the didactic in it’s eclectic mixture of subject matter and style of approach? Aha – so you thought I was called ‘Fred? Thought I could be called Alfred Allsop and write a blog and call it Fred Blogs? Well think again dear reader – for in reality I am called Anton Fernzeitand I am quite different than you may imagine any old “Fred Blogs” to be! But I thought the site should be called Fred Blogs to draw you in, a sort of Vox Pop name if you will. I have read far wider and think on a quite different plane from any old Fred Blogs. No John Doe here and no rider on the Clapham omnibus. I may pass through Clapham from time to time, but my chosen mode of transportation is more likely to be a powerful motor car than any public transport. So, welcome to the world of Ferhnzeit, I hope you enjoy your visit and come back soon! To Lydia’s surprise the screen flashed up with a refresh – it seemed someone had made a comment upon the posting from Anton. Lydia turned to the screen with interest. So it was that she came to read:-

Comments

1. Anton, let me open your eyes to the truth: it does not matter what colour a man wears, all that matters is his personality and character, or what they call the beauty inside or the beautiful mind! SEG ON NOVEMBER 12, 2008, AT 08:54 PM For some reason this aroused an almost maternal desire to protect what she saw as the “young” Anton against this unknown detractor. She would come to his aid and speak in his defence – who was this upstart young “SEG” to criticise him anyway? Her carefully manicured hands flew over the keys with practiced ease to add a comment:-

1. Dearest Anton, I have always been fond of the colour brown. On a man with a beautiful mind it could create a real vision for me – you are so right that a colour can have masculine overtones and the thought of your mind matched with a fine physique and clad in brown has me wwishing to make your acquaintance. I am sure you have many admirers, perhaps SEG is one? Let me assure you that to meet me would be a great pleasure for us both. Could you make my acquaintance on my ICQ? I shall await your contact, my number is 76941109 on ICQ and the nickname you should see is LydiaLoveless – but perhaps I may be loveless no more if you are to say hello to me? EDIT LYDIA DYPCHYK ON NOVEMBER 13, 2008, AT 05:17 PM Lydia sat back and smiled softly. That should do the trick. That mean spirited SEG would not spoil Anton’s fun, and who knew – perhaps he would get in touch with her after all and she would not have to keep searching on ICQ for the perfect match any longer.

There was the sound of footfalls at the door. Then the boyish chatter and the voice she knew well from her childhood. Her good friend Olga was bringing her son J home with her! What fun, thought Lydia. She loved the chance to spoil J and let out the bountiful maternal feelings within her and now she could do just that. She jumped up from her chair – she must find J his favourite power ranger to greet him at the door and see the smile that sprang to his face whenever he knew she had a treat in store! She was so happy she had baked that chocolate cake now.

3

Fred Allsop was feeling pleased with himself. This was not an unusual feeling to him, but it was especially intense today. Not only had he made the necessary manoeuvres to create a doppelganger which expressed his inner self, but he had fleshed it out into something he felt was a reality, or as near as one came to reality in the modern world of the blogosphere on the internet. He was rewarding himself with a stroll to one of his favourite haunts.

The Red Rooster café was unusual in the city of Leicester. It was unusual for two reasons, here there were internet facilities aplenty. Not simply the common or garden wifi access which had become ubiquitous, being offered seemingly in every café and public house anywhere near the city center. No, here there were ranks of monitors in rows bedecked with webcams and connected via a network to a high speed link that enabled Fred to effortlessly upload or download any files he chanced upon.

The second unusual thing about the Red Rooster was that they served a number of Fred’s favourite foods. Not only was he able to have a sugary Chelsea bun with his tea, but he could also indulge in a plate of liver and bacon with onions next to the computer – something his mother would never permit, even if she could stomach to cook the food itself.

Fred settled into a seat at his preferred end of the row – next to the counter so that even when he needed refreshment he did not need to leave his seat. Even though he had the beige computer at home now he did not have a webcam facility and his mother would always make him leave the screen and eat in the kitchen. He did not like to even drink a cup of tea at his desk, for fear that in his excitement he may spill it and damage his precious computer. He ordered the liver and bacon – asking for extra gravy and thought about what he would do next as he logged in with practiced ease. The morning had been so good – he had read a comment from a lady who seemed to admire him in a grudging way. Inspired by this he had gone on to add a page which dispelled the idea that his given name was indeed Alfred. Not so, cleverly he had constructed the persona of Anton Ferhnzeit to cloak him in ubiquity and enable him to explore this new side of himself.

He was decided now, he would indulge in one of his favourite pastimes. Reaching up Fred lifted the “modesty screen” blacking out the webcam and went to see what IM programs were at his disposal. On a whim he opted for the one with the flower icon, it seemed to be called ICQ, and he wondered what that could stand for, probably some variation on the acronym IRQ used in low level programming, he thought to himself. Up came his little chat window on the screen. Fred noticed it had a WebCam icon and was pleased he could decide if he wanted to see the other person, and reciprocate by showing them himself.

Fred had for some time been toying with the idea that he could write a travel book. Conflated with the persona of Anton Fehrnzeit this idea flowered with a heady and pungent scent. The title presenting itself ineluctably to Fred was “Sweet blossom, the flower of all Thailand” (his heroine was to be called Blossom). Alfred saw he needed a nickname for the chat – without any hesitation and with a devilish smile (or what he supposed was a devilish smile) he typed in AntonF and went on to select his country. He decided he had better be in the one place, so AntonF was residing in the UK. Then he could decide the country of those he was to chat with – so again with no hesitation he selected Thailand.

After a short pause the logo flashed and Fred realised someone wanted to chat with him. Hurriedly he shovelled some liver and onions into his mouth and, chewing all the while, he typed;

“Hello, who are you?”

“My name is Petal” came the reply

“And mine is AntonF and I am a writer” typed Fred. He had decided this was no lie, after all he had a title for his book already!

“What do you write?”

“I am writing a novel and it is to be called ‘Sweet blossom, the flower of all Thailand’ and you are a petal so this must be meant to be!”

“Why you say that?”

“because petals fall from blossoms and flowers, of course!”

“And flowers grow best with manure”

“?”

“What makes you say that?”

Fred was puzzled, that sounded odd, but he was not sure if they had trouble with their English. But he was also intrigued, he needed inspiration both for his “novel” and for his own personal gratification (he was attracted to Thai women for all the wrong reasons). Licking his lips, the liver and onion forgotten and cooling to a congealed mass beside him, Fred typed on.

“Shall we open our cameras, I should love to see you”

“No yet, I no trust you – Englishmen are naughty I think”

“Ah, but I am Anton Fehrnzeit – I come from Russia originally, I promise you not to be naughty”

“No yet, first you must show me a reason”

“Well, I should love to admire your undoubted beauty – you are named after a flower and must surely look as beautiful” typed fred, thinking his flattery masterful

“Very well – you naughty Englishman – first you must do something for me”

“Ask and it is done” Fred was perspiring lightly now, excited

“I wish to see your chest, you must bare your chest for me, will you do this? Only then will I open my own camera”

Fred was nervous now, he was not in his bedroom after all. But then again he could open his shirt, if he first removed the yellow sweater. Fred looked around then huffed as though he were too hot and shrugged off his sweater. Underneath he wore a button down collarless shirt, which he proceeded to unbutton, huffing all the while.

“Very well, my gorgeous blossom” typed Fred “I am doing as you ask” He heard from behind him a shifting about of a group of people – but this was not unusual at the red Rooster – people often shared screens when they found something interesting or amusing, though Fred thought this common and did not do so himself.

“Oh you gorgeous Englishman, I want see body”

“You shall – soon” Fred was beyond excited now “I am turning on cam”

Fred clicked the video icon and was rewarded with a steady green glow from the cam activation light. He unbuttoned his shirt and adjusted it until he was happy with the result, then looked into the camera with a winsome look that he believed made him appear handsome. He was wrong on this score.

There were guffaws behind him. They must have found something funny.

“OH! More please more!”

“Why, my sweet blossom it is your turn now”

“Once more – let me see your handsome belly”

Fred paused for thought. Very well, he decided, standing and unbuttoning the last buttons in a nervous way. The red Roosters standards were low, but he had no idea how he looked (quite ridiculous).

“You are BIG MAN!” The guffaws from behind Fred were really distracting now. “I show you my sexy body, hunky!” And Fred saw the camera icon indicating he could click and see her. At last, he thought, and clicked the link.

To Fred’s confusion the picture he saw displayed was not of a Thai woman, it seemed an odd panorama. There were many smiling faces. What could it mean? The laughter behind him was really loud now and he turned to see what was disturbing the peace, tucking his shirt in and buttoning it all the while. Then he saw. The picture on the screen opposite was of his OWN back as he turned!

“Ha haha ha!” laughed the gaggle of onlookers, smiling at Fred in his disarray. “I lurv the Englishman, he so handsome!” screeched Shirley, a Red Rooster regular he did not much care for, grinning at him unkindly. With a flash fred realised what had happened. This bunch of people had registered and created “Blossom”, then persuaded him to display himself to the camera. He turned beetroot red, the blush starting below his collar, where his shirt was still undone, before moving upwards until his entire face was pink with shame.

Fred gathered his things hurriedly and stumbled past the smirking crowd and out into the street… all the while thinking nothing beyond the desire to be away from the place. There was no point defending himself. He would return to his bedroom to hide away. Fred wanted at this moment more than ever to become the alter-ego of Anton, who would never have to suffer this. Anton would have stood proudly. Anton would have had no paunch hanging over his belt. Anton would not have blushed. Fred wished he were Anton and when he got to the safety of his bedroom he would be!

4

Lydia threw open the door and J rushed into the outstretched arms with a great leap. Olga was standing beaming to see her friend being swamped by the show of affection from her young son. They were very close and Olga appreciated what Lydia did for J all the more, especially since she had no brothers or sisters and her parents were far away, living a retired life on the Baltic ‘Riviera’ at the other end of the country.

“What is that yummy smell here?” Asked J, his eyes beaming

“Well, I heard from your mummy that you might like chocolate cake sometimes when you are a good boy” answered Lydia

“I love chocolate cake ALL the time!” shouted J

“Then you shall have to practice to be a good boy who deserves cake ALL the time” countered Lydia, smiling over the boy’s head to Olga. She gestured for them both to come inside and make themselves at home.

“Come see my new computer” she said, throwing wide the door to her bedroom, where the computer was installed. The computer was turned on and in the corner of the screen Lydia noticed the ICQ “flower” was blinking. Someone wanted her to read a message, she would check that later.

Wandering into the kitchen Lydia busied herself with the kettle and making some coffee. Olga settled J to the computer with the Ben-10 website – this she knew from experience would keep him occupied for hours if need be. She needed to tell Olga of her plans and was excited at the idea she could try to chat with this remarkable Anton Fehrnzeit.

When Olga came into the kitchen Lydia had just assembled the coffee things on a tray and so they headed into the living room to sit and catch up on life while J was busily zapping a host of noisy “aliens” on the computer next door.

“So, you have finally saved up enough then” said Olga, “Now you shall have a friend for life in J! He will always be asking to visit so that he can play as his beloved Ben-10 or something, never mind eat more of your chocolate cake!”

“Well, that will be no hardship, so long as you do not mind him spending the time that way” Lydia smiled at the thought as she poured the coffee.

“Oh, but of course not! I remember too well how it was for us when we knew everyone in the West had a computer and access to this new ‘internet’ but we were stuck with our dusty old library books. He shall have all the access he likes to any computers, but I shall just have to keep an eye on which sites he goes to, I wonder if we can move him away from Ben-10 and more gently towards something educational?”

“That is a worthy aim”, Lydia smiled at the idea – she knew it would be impossible with a boy like J, he was born for play and not for study. “On the other hand I know from personal experience just how distracting the internet can be when you are using a computer”.

“Oh yes?” Said Olga, raising her eyebrows to enquire further.

“Indeed. Why just this morning I found some most interesting content – I was quite distracted from my usual casual ICQ chatting”. Lydia smiled, she trusted Olga intimately, but was unsure how much she wanted to reveal about the mysterious AntonF. It was almost as if she wanted to protect him as her secret and no one else’s, but at the same time her girlish excitement was urging her to confide in her closest friend. “Of course, I was only researching England, but I came across a most engaging personal site just today.” Lydia hoped she was being enigmatic.

“Oh yes?” Olga knew her friend well and had a good idea what the computer might be employed for. With a young child of her own Olga had seen how Lydia both wanted to find a husband and yet rejected all the advances of the local boys and men-folk. She could easily imagine her good friend entering into email correspondence with foreigners and being drawn to romance abroad through the window on the world that the computer would give her.

“Why yes, and it would seem that although the author is in England his name is intriguing – do you think Ferhnzeit could be an East German name?” asked Lydia.

“Possibly, quite possibly”, Olga smiled, her friend was sometimes a little predictable, “It is even possible the name originates from Poland you know, his family could almost be neighbours!” Olga’s eyes smiled mischievously. “When J has finished saving the universe with his Ben-10 perhaps you can show me more about this young man? I take it he is not so old then?”

“Well, I certainly do not think he is a boy, and nor does he seem to have the attitude of our parents generation”. Lydia nearly blushed as she recognised how warmly she was feeling towards Anton already.

“I see, well we must look into that….” Olga smiled warmly, for the situation was plain and she wished her friend every success in finding the love of her life and understood perfectly the desire for him to come from afar. J’s father had been a local man, and now look at her living the life of a single parent, rejected by the conservative society of her homeland. She sometimes had to stop herself from agreeing with them and calling herself a “bottom feeder” in society, she knew this was a bad influence for her son and worked hard not to say such a thing in front of him.

Lydia moved to the oven and bent to retrieve the arm cake, the aroma of sweet chocolat filling the kitchen and drifting through the apartment. As she had hoped, she heard the sounds of Ben-10 go quiet in the bedroom and a voice chirped up, “Can I smell that yummy chocolate again?”

“Yes, come here like a good boy and you shall have your reward” Lydia answered, smiling to Olga and putting three plates on the table. She cut the cake, one large piece and two smaller ones, and served them to J as he sat quietly ‘being good’ with all his might and to his mother who sat smiling on the proceedings.

“Now then J, would you like to be even more good and practice your reading for us while I show your mother my new computer, since you seem to have saved the world from the aliens with Ben-10 already?”

J nodded, his mouth full of chocolate cake. It seemed he had hopes of another piece, judging by the way it was disappearing so fast. Olga reached into J’s school bag and retrieved the latest book. He was a bright and studious child, now he had had his turn on the exciting new computer she knew he would reward her with some study time. The school had just begun to set homework on a daily basis and she knew that he could be expected to work for half an hour at the table without troubling her too much.

“Here we are then, son. If you can learn all your spellings and read the next chapter in your book then when we return I shall authorise another piece of cake from your very kind and good friend Lydia!” Smiling, Olga placed the books by J’s elbow and stood from the table. “Now then, Lydia, I think it is my turn to see you at work on your brand new computer”

Lydia and Olga gathered their coffee, set their empty plates by the sink, and headed into the bedroom. Lydia sat before the screen and Olga pulled up a chair next to her. Olga noticed that the ICQ flower was still flashing. But first she opened the internet to show Olga what she could do with this lovely new computer.

Olga saw her friend settling down with the computer and could tell right away that Lydia had made herself at home with her new technology quite quickly. Olga herself was not so comfortable with these modern gadgets, but she was a most skilled reader of people and could feel the importance Lydia attached to her computer.

The browser opened where Lydia had left off from her last session. This meant the web page for the “Fred Blogs” site was immediately presented – and so Lydia clicked on the ‘about me’ link and pointed to the screen. “You see this is the man I told you about!” she said excitedly. “Imagine how I found him right away, when I was just searching for any old blog! I had never expected to find such a person on the internet. He almost seems to belong in an older, more romantic era, but tell me what you think…”

Olga followed her friend’s gesture and read the screen slowly. She found it most strange that someone called Anton Fehrnzeit should adopt a “pen name” of Fred Blogs to write on the internet, and he did seem an old fuddy duddy to her mind, but then again this seemed to have beguiled Lydia into a fondness for him. That came as no surprise to Olga, who knew that part of the reason for Lydia’s obsession with finding the perfect Englishman was a romantic delusion that an English person would be courtly and romantic, not like the Lithuanian louts they met at home. Olga had her suspicions that the real world may differ from this vision, but she was not going to share that with Lydia now.

“He does not reveal very much personal information, does he?” noticed Olga, “I for one would like to know how old this chap is. Is there a way we can ask him?”

“Oh I have a definite feeling he is not much older than you or I” said Lydia “and as for asking him questions, well I have already made a comment, let me show you” and Lydia moved Olga aside and navigated the page to his blog and the comment she had made there. Again Olga bent to read the screen, and was shocked to see the number from Lydia.

“But what is this?! Are you giving this Anton your telephone number already?” Exclaimed Olga

“Oh no… it is not like that” said Lydia, smiling benevolently, “this number is an ICQ number and it is not quite like a telephone number.”

“So, what is it then?” Asked Olga

“Well… you see the flower in the corner?” Lydia noticed the ICQ icon was still flashing, but clicked it anyway, “This opens my ICQ chat window”. And the chat window did indeed open, but rather than being blank as Lydia had expected this is what they saw;

“17:44:54 AntonF – AntonF here. I was so happy to read your comment on my blog. Right away I can tell you are an intelligent and perceptive woman with discerning tastes and I hope you do not find me too forward in making contact with you. I am not familiar with this ICQ program, but it seems it enables me to ‘chat’ with you, am I right?”

Lydia smiled. This was more than she had hoped for when she gave Anton her ICQ number. He had been in touch with her straight away! She felt like an autograph hunter at the front of the crowd who gets the stars attention right away! Coming to her senses, she noticed Olga was smiling at her expression with a twinkle in her eyes. “I see you’re happily surprised” said Olga.

“Why yes, of course, it is always good to make a new friend or contact. I am of the opinion that one cannot have to many. And contacts in England will probably be especially valuable to me” said Lydia, talking a little more than she normally would to cover her embarrassment. “But look at the time! On the message! I must not just seem to ignore him, what would he think of me!” Lydia was forgetting herself as she moved Olga to the side and took over the keyboard.

Olga smiled to see her friend so eager to type. She was really surprised at Lydia and intrigued to see if she would be so carried away that Olga could also read the reply. It soon became apparent that this was the case, for before her eyes Olga saw the reply being typed;

“18:30:33 LydiaDyp – Dear Anton, I am so pleased you decided to install ICQ! It means a great deal to me that you have chosen to contact me. I am so sorry I have not seen your message until now – Are you still there and may I add you to my ICQ list?”

The two young women sipped their coffee and gazed at the screen. Each of them was thinking about another screen somewhere in England and the figure of Anton Fehrnzeit reading this message. They hoped they might see what he made of it before too long. Lydia was not going to simply wait for a reply though; that was not her style.

“18:38:22 LydiaDip – I would really like it if we can get to know one another by chatting. Not only myself, but my friends think your blog has great promise and it seems to me I can get to know you very well from it. I feel we would be quite compatible and make good friends if we were to meet. What do you think?” Lydia felt that now she did indeed have to await a reply. She looked across at Olga and noticed the smile on Olga’s lips was even larger now than at first! She blushed slightly, busying herself with picking up the used coffee mugs, placing them on the tray and rising to take things to the kitchen. Sure, she felt Olga was like a sister to her (perhaps even a big sister because although they were the same age, Olga seemed the more mature in outlook with her son to care for), but she still did not want a friend or even a big sister to know exactly the feelings she was prone to with Anton, particularly not when they became so romantically inclined that she even embarrassed herself!

“Well then”, called Olga from the bedroom as she placed the mugs in the sink, “we shall have to wait and see now – it does not look like he is going to reply in any hurry”. Lydia felt mixed emotions now, on the one hand she wished he would answer right away, the waiting was an agony of suspense. On the other hand the last thing she wished for what his reply to pop up on the screen whilst her friend Olga was watching it!

“Yes, I guess we shall” said Lydia, with a wistful expression.

“I can do it now!” said J, suddenly looking up from the kitchen table. Lydia was shocked at first, so entirely wrapped up in her hopes and dreams she thought for a moment that J had a way of making the message come from Anton right now. “I can read my book for you!” said J.

“Oh what a clever boy you are, let me get you some more cake for when you have read to mum. Here she comes, you can start now”. And J started to read to his mother as Lydia cut a slice of chocolate. To an outside observer the scene was one of domestic bliss. To Lydia the scene was missing two ingredients for her domestic bliss – she wanted a child of her own. But unlike Olga she wanted more, she wanted the father in the picture too.

5

Fred was tucking into his dinner with gusto. Marge Allsop looked on happily, even though he was a grown man now, she still liked to cook his favourites and never worried about his figure, she still thought of him as the growing lad that needed all the calories she could lay on for his growth. The favourite she had chosen today was steak and kidney pudding with creamy mash, to be followed by a golden syrup steamed pudding with lashings of creamy custard. She picked at her own helping, knowing that a ham salad would have been more to her taste, and the pudding to follow would be beyond her bird like appetite.

“Thanks mum!” said Fred. “I’m not sure why, but I’m famished! Must be how well you make it!” Then Fred coloured slightly as he remembered the abandoned liver and onions from earlier in the day. He would be mortified if his mother knew about that, but luckily he was well aware that the “Red Rooster” was far removed from the gentile tea rooms his mum was likely to frequent.

“How are you getting on with that computer dig thing?” Asked Marge.

“MUM! It is called a BLOG” said Fred. He despaired of his mother ever catching up with the internet age and the technology involved. She much preferred to curl up in the armchair with one of her favourite detective books at the end of the day, and there had been no question that the computer should be installed in his bedroom, which all suited him just fine.

“It is going quite well”, he continued, “In fact I might be making some new friends”

“That’s good”, said Marge. She had long wanted to Fred to widen his social circle and secretly hoped he might one day bring home a lady friend for her to meet. He was getting older and to call him a ‘late developer’ seemed a misnomer, even to his doting mother.

“Well, if you’re really enjoying it I suppose you can take your pud to your bedroom then.”

“Thanks mum”, said Fred, “I might do that”. On reflection fred knew he would do so, he was more than a little excited and apprehensive to find out how his opening remark to this Lydia from his blog had been received.

Gathering up his pudding plate and spoon Fred returned to his room and was rewarded by the sight of the ICQ flower flashing in the corner of his screen. He set down the pudding and settled to his desk, his face flushed with excitement.

Clicking on the link, Fred read Lydias messages and checked the timestamp. Crikey, she had replied quite quickly and that was only twenty minutes ago! I wonder if that means she is “keen” he thought to himself. Fred flushed with the thrill of a woman being keen to “talk” to him, this was a new feeling for him. He was far more accustomed to women rejecting his overtures, rather than engaging with him.

“19:14:54 AntonF – Why yes, of course we might “chat”. Until then may we email? My address is Fehrnzeit@geekmail.com and if you care to tell me yours I shall write to you soon, I promise”

Anton reflected, this was too short for a reply and he had heard women liked it if you listened attentively and asked things about them. So after thinking for four minutes he scratched his head, took a spoonful of pudding, then typed;

“19:24:54 AntonF – I have authorised you as my friend and requested the same. How exciting that you can imagine us friends! And tell me about your friend, how old are they? Just as soon as I have your email I shall send one to you.”

He smiled and licked his lips, then spooned more up greedily, before pausing and looking down at his growing paunch. He set down his spoon with a sad smile – Anton Fehrnzeit would not eat like this, Fred resolved to mend his ways and shed some of the extra weight he seemed to be accumulating.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~­~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lydia had shown Olga and J out, trying not to show any eagerness for them to depart. She did not want to give any more grounds for the guesses she thought Olga had made as to her feelings about the mysterious Fehrnzeit. Now she hurried to her computer in the bedroom, the washing up could wait. She sat down and clicked the chat window, reading the message from Anton eagerly.

Goodness, his email looked impressive! He must know all about computers, perhaps he had well-paid work in that field, she speculated, after all he certainly seemed to be a man of many talents. But she must not be too quick in her judgement, her priority now was to engage this man in further conversation. Yes, she would make an email address and give it to him, this was clearly overdue and would further her newfound internet adventure.

Turning to the page she seemed to have as her homepage she scanned for email, there it was. Now then… create account. Right, this was going well she thought. Then the computer flashed up a screen and asked her to “choose a user name”… Goodness, decisions decisions. What to choose? Lydia typed in experimentally… ‘lastingloveliness’ and completed the other details it was asking for. Would that do? The computer blinked a moment then flashed up;

Email address ready for use.

Brilliant! She switched to the chat window and typed excitedly,

“20:38:22 LydiaDip – Why yes, how charming of you to reply so quickl. My email address is lastingloveliness@hotmail.com and I look forward to hearing from you soon. X”

She thought long and hard before adding that X at the end, but she was keen to move on from their slightly formal introductions and felt it struck the right note.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~­~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear lovely Lydia,

For I feel sure with this email address you must be lovely, and of course your beauty shall be enduring. Do you not feel the true beauty is in the mind though? I do not mean to detract from the loveliness that I can only imagine I should regard were I to see you in the same room and not simply be gazing into a computer screen. I have long held you mother land in high regard, surely in history we can see that the Polish had a regal beauty and many a Polish women might be held in high regard, as a princess even. As the neighbours of Poland, your country no doubt also has beautiful women living there. But unlike Poland the Lithuanian neighbours are seldom heard of here. I feel certain your country is wrongly overlooked and have long wished to travel there.

I have yet to hear about your friend and her son, but look forward to that. Perhaps you might tell me a little in your reply?

I feel our initial exchanges have been so promising and struck no wrong notes. So I am delighted to make your acquaintance and hope we may have sowed the seeds for friendship?

Yours cordially,

Anton

X

~~~~~~~~~~~~~­~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Anton,

To make your acquaintance is most lovely. You are so kind to interrupt your busy life and swap words with a simple Lithuanian woman. I have no great education and live simple life here. If my English is not good forgive me you must. Since school I study and try hard but here Englad seems so far. Since those days ever have I longed to see it, but alas not.

Your kindness in thinking of me with lovely words makes me pink to my face! So I am happy it is a computer screen you see. Perhaps I tell you too much.

My good friend Olga since school has known me. How the time flew and now she has a son. His name is J and he is like a son to me also. Chocolate cakes I for him bake.

Your job what is though? Very high power technologic I am sure! With you I compete not, but beauty of mind must surely mean you have beauty in plenty.

Now I must go, before my feet turn pink too.

For you to write again my greatest joy would be.

With cordial

Lydia

Xx

6

Fred was replete. Yes he had eaten, but his ruddy face was quite aglow with excitement and another kind of satisfaction. Though the day was late, his mind was racing and his imagination in overdrive. Fred’s wildest dreams had never prepared him for the experience his blog was about to bring him, He dared not say the word, because he had become deeply superstitious on the matter, but to his excitable imagination he stood on the threshold of something entirely new to him. He had only the suave Anton Fehrnzeit to thank for it, he was sure, but he seemed to be on the brink of something quite new – in his mind he allowed himself to think the word even, Fred Allsop was considering the possibility he might have or be about to have a ‘girlfriend’!

He had learned that Lydia was in Lithuania and after feverish half hour reading on Wikipedia and googling miscellany he had decide to make a public statement:-

The joys of Lithuania 0 COMMENTS NOVEMBER 17 Fellow countrymen How many of us are aware of our neighbours on the continent. Our neighbours in the sense that we are a European nation? A European community even (if I may ommit the economic aspect)? I suspect few of us consider some of these fine nations, and so this with this post I shall explore and delve a little into the nature of such a country. As you can see I have alighted upon Lithuania. How many of you realise that during the fourteenth century this was the largest country in Europe? Poland was largely an annex of the mighty Lithuania of the past. But this was just the beginning for this fine country, centuries later under King Vytautas the powers of this mighty nation were far reaching indeed. And how many of us can begin to realise how far this mighty nation fell. They suffered awfully during the occupation by the Nazis and since then with Soviet persecution. It is still recent history that they have been recognised as a nation once more. Yet it seems they carry their heads high and unbowed. I believe they are a highly educated and beautiful, proud people. They are to be admired. I warmly welcome the people of Lithuania to share their views. I am considering furthering my travels with a visit to this remarkable country. They say the mind is broadened by travel and perhaps my mind is a little too deep for most people, so I shall have to broaden it. What finer country could there be to have the benefit of a visit from Anton Fehrnzeit? Had he overdone it? Fred was unsure, but he knew his facts stood up and in any case – he had every intention of following up with an email. Chancing upon the slogan “LITHUANIA – Know where you go!” had Fred daydreaming. In his mind the name Lydia Dypchyk had started to assume an identity, one that was already beguiling him in a way he had never experienced before. His imagination fuelled by the recommended ‘exotic’ stag tours, where young Englishmen rich in cash, squandered their holidays and overindulged in the cheap alcohol, found their scant morals shed entirely and allowed themselves free reign to take liberties with the local women who were only too happy to relieve them of their valuable foreign currency. He saw Lydia Dypchyk as an exotic and lovely Eastern princess, one who would only too readily succumb to the Western charms of Anton Fehrnzeit.

There was a faint tone from the computer, and Fred snapped out of his reveries, in which the lovely Princess Lydia was captivated by Anton’s intense gaze, bowing and fluttering about him, affording him many glimpses of her ample cleavage. Fred realised the alert was set for updates to him blog, and clicked ‘refresh’ to read what had been offered.

Comments Anton – for once you have done your research well! Lithuania really has twice as many people with higher education than the EU average and one of the fastest growing economies in the EU. It seems your mind has been broadened already!
SEG ON NOVEMBER 17, 2008, AT 07:56 PM Why yes, I am glad to see you have found out more than many about our proud country. But please do not be too quick to sing the praises of progress. Our economy and nation may be thriving, but Lithuania has a higher suicide rate now than any other country in Europe. Perhaps this is in no small part due to the loss of the old traditional ways and the influx of foreign culture and cash. Come and see us by all means, but as the slogan goes “LITHUANIA – know where you go!” so come here but respect and know the country, please do not exploit us nor our peoples. Some of the things you say concern me – I warn you that some of us may look out for the exploitative visitor and he is not welcome, not at any price!
OLGA ON NOVEMBER 17, 2008, AT 11:22 PM

Well, Fred thought, that ‘SEG’ certainly seemed to have changed her tune, though he felt slightly patronised that she assumed his mind needed ‘broadening’. But look, he had a new reader of his blog. He toyed idly with the idea that perhaps this ‘Olga’ could be the one whom Lydia had mentioned, no, surely this was just a coincidence?

Fred began to realise that he would never find out so long as this was all happening before him only on his computer screen. He had seen the pictures on the websites, the women of Lithuania did indeed seem most attractive to him, and surely if he escaped his native environment and assumed the identity of Anton they would not treat him as the women he had encountered here did? Surely in a foreign land it would be like a fresh start. They would perhaps be enamoured by his English accent? And the money he had accumulated in his savings account, surely that would go a lot further abroad in Lithuania, however thriving their economy.

Fred was unsure. There was a part of him that knew the Anton Fehrnzeit of his imagination was just that, a fiction. But when he wrote his blog, and the little exchange he had with Lydia, surely this counted for something. He felt within him the potential for something, but he could not trust what it was. It was not a thing he could describe and he was uncomfortable with it. Fred knew a lot of facts and figures, sometimes he genuinely spoke with authority, but when it came to matters of emotion or affairs of the heart Fred could not be more of an innocent abroad.

Fred had a moment of inspiration. The idea of the stag tours started it, because he would surely like to visit Vilnius. But he did not have the confidence to make such arrangements himself, he was no suave traveller like Anton Fehrnzeit, wise in the ways of the world. But who went on a stag holiday alone? It was not the way to do it – Fred would talk to his old school friend Steve. Steve was always up for anything and Fred knew if he intrigued him sufficiently then a trip to Lithuania would be on the cards.