Twenties Girl
Page 114
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“You’re right.” He looks suitably chastened as he surveys the tower. “This is spectacular.”
“Isn’t it great?” I say proudly.
There are some times when being English is really the best, and big-historic-castle time is one of them.
“When was it built?” asks Ed.
“Um…” I look around for a handy sign. There isn’t one. Damn. There should be a sign. I can’t exactly look it up in the guidebook. Not with him watching me expectantly.
“It was in the…” I turn casually away and mumble something indistinct. “… teenth century.”
“Which century?”
“It dates from…” I clear my throat. “Tudor. Er… Stuart times.”
“Do you mean Norman?” suggests Ed politely.
“Oh. Yes, that’s what I meant.” I dart him a suspicious look. How did he know that? Has he been boning up?
“So, we go in this way.” I lead Ed confidently toward a likely-looking rampart, but he pulls me back.
“Actually, I think the entrance is this way, by the river.”
For God’s sake. He’s obviously one of these men who have to take control. He probably never asks for directions either.
“Listen, Ed,” I say kindly. “You’re American. You’ve never been here before. Who’s more likely to know the way in, me or you?”
At that moment, a passing Beefeater stops and gives us a friendly beam. I smile back, ready to ask him the best way in, but he addresses Ed cheerily.
“Morning, Mr. Harrison. How are you? Back again already?”
What?
What just happened? Ed knows the Beefeaters? How does Ed know the Beefeaters?
I’m speechless as Ed shakes the hand of the Beefeater and says, “Good to see you, Jacob. Meet Lara.”
“Er… hello,” I manage feebly.
What’s going to happen next? Will the queen arrive and ask us in for tea?
“OK,” I splutter as soon as the Beefeater has continued on his way. “What’s going on?”
Ed takes one look at my face and bursts into laughter.
“Tell me!” I demand, and he lifts his hands apologetically.
“I’ll come clean. I was here Friday. It was a work team-building day out. We were able to talk to some of the Beefeaters. It was fascinating.” He pauses, then adds, his mouth twitching, “That’s how I know the tower was begun in 1078. By William the Conqueror. And the entrance is this way.”
“You could have told me!” I glare at him.
“I’m sorry. You seemed so into the idea, and I thought it would be cool to go around with you. But we can go someplace else. You must have seen this a million times. Let’s rethink.” He takes the Historic London guidebook and starts consulting the index.
I’m flipping the tickets back and forth in my hands, watching a group of schoolkids take pictures of one another, feeling torn. Obviously he’s right. He saw the tower on Friday so why on earth would we go around it again?
On the other hand, we’ve bought the tickets now. And it looks amazing. And I want to see it.
“We could head straight down to St. Paul’s.” Ed is peering at the tube map. “It shouldn’t take too long-”
“I want to see the Crown jewels,” I say in a small voice.
“What?” He raises his head.
“I want to see the Crown jewels. Now we’re here.”
“You mean… you’ve never seen them?” Ed stares incredulously at me. “You’ve never seen the Crown jewels?”
“I live in London!” I say, nettled at his expression. “It’s different! I can see them anytime I want, when the occasion arises. It’s just that… the occasion has never arisen.”
“Isn’t that a bit narrow-minded of you, Lara?” I can tell Ed’s loving this. “Aren’t you interested in the heritage of your great city? Don’t you think it’s criminal to ignore these unique historic monuments-”
“Shut up!” I can feel my cheeks turning red.
Ed relents. “Come on. Let me show you your own country’s fine Crown jewels. They’re great. I know the whole deal. You realize that the oldest pieces date from the Restoration?”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes.” He starts guiding me through the crowd. “The Imperial State Crown contains an enormous diamond cut from the famous Cullinan Diamond, the largest diamond ever mined.”
“Wow,” I say politely. Obviously Ed memorized the entire Crown jewels lecture yesterday.
“Uh-huh.” He nods. “At least, that’s what the world thought until 1997. When it was discovered to be a fake.”
“Isn’t it great?” I say proudly.
There are some times when being English is really the best, and big-historic-castle time is one of them.
“When was it built?” asks Ed.
“Um…” I look around for a handy sign. There isn’t one. Damn. There should be a sign. I can’t exactly look it up in the guidebook. Not with him watching me expectantly.
“It was in the…” I turn casually away and mumble something indistinct. “… teenth century.”
“Which century?”
“It dates from…” I clear my throat. “Tudor. Er… Stuart times.”
“Do you mean Norman?” suggests Ed politely.
“Oh. Yes, that’s what I meant.” I dart him a suspicious look. How did he know that? Has he been boning up?
“So, we go in this way.” I lead Ed confidently toward a likely-looking rampart, but he pulls me back.
“Actually, I think the entrance is this way, by the river.”
For God’s sake. He’s obviously one of these men who have to take control. He probably never asks for directions either.
“Listen, Ed,” I say kindly. “You’re American. You’ve never been here before. Who’s more likely to know the way in, me or you?”
At that moment, a passing Beefeater stops and gives us a friendly beam. I smile back, ready to ask him the best way in, but he addresses Ed cheerily.
“Morning, Mr. Harrison. How are you? Back again already?”
What?
What just happened? Ed knows the Beefeaters? How does Ed know the Beefeaters?
I’m speechless as Ed shakes the hand of the Beefeater and says, “Good to see you, Jacob. Meet Lara.”
“Er… hello,” I manage feebly.
What’s going to happen next? Will the queen arrive and ask us in for tea?
“OK,” I splutter as soon as the Beefeater has continued on his way. “What’s going on?”
Ed takes one look at my face and bursts into laughter.
“Tell me!” I demand, and he lifts his hands apologetically.
“I’ll come clean. I was here Friday. It was a work team-building day out. We were able to talk to some of the Beefeaters. It was fascinating.” He pauses, then adds, his mouth twitching, “That’s how I know the tower was begun in 1078. By William the Conqueror. And the entrance is this way.”
“You could have told me!” I glare at him.
“I’m sorry. You seemed so into the idea, and I thought it would be cool to go around with you. But we can go someplace else. You must have seen this a million times. Let’s rethink.” He takes the Historic London guidebook and starts consulting the index.
I’m flipping the tickets back and forth in my hands, watching a group of schoolkids take pictures of one another, feeling torn. Obviously he’s right. He saw the tower on Friday so why on earth would we go around it again?
On the other hand, we’ve bought the tickets now. And it looks amazing. And I want to see it.
“We could head straight down to St. Paul’s.” Ed is peering at the tube map. “It shouldn’t take too long-”
“I want to see the Crown jewels,” I say in a small voice.
“What?” He raises his head.
“I want to see the Crown jewels. Now we’re here.”
“You mean… you’ve never seen them?” Ed stares incredulously at me. “You’ve never seen the Crown jewels?”
“I live in London!” I say, nettled at his expression. “It’s different! I can see them anytime I want, when the occasion arises. It’s just that… the occasion has never arisen.”
“Isn’t that a bit narrow-minded of you, Lara?” I can tell Ed’s loving this. “Aren’t you interested in the heritage of your great city? Don’t you think it’s criminal to ignore these unique historic monuments-”
“Shut up!” I can feel my cheeks turning red.
Ed relents. “Come on. Let me show you your own country’s fine Crown jewels. They’re great. I know the whole deal. You realize that the oldest pieces date from the Restoration?”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes.” He starts guiding me through the crowd. “The Imperial State Crown contains an enormous diamond cut from the famous Cullinan Diamond, the largest diamond ever mined.”
“Wow,” I say politely. Obviously Ed memorized the entire Crown jewels lecture yesterday.
“Uh-huh.” He nods. “At least, that’s what the world thought until 1997. When it was discovered to be a fake.”
