Author having coffee atop St. Paul's Cathedral in London |
The
first day in London, I wanted Angela to show Chris around some and keep him
awake so he could adjust his inner clock to London time. I decided on a bus
ride from her flat near Victoria Station to St. Paul's Cathedral because I had
done that once myself, for the same reason.
To
make the trip more interesting, I wanted to point out the sights along the way.
That's the reason I needed help from Google. I plotted a trip using Google Maps
from Angela's flat to the church. Then, as I viewed the route, I switched to
the photo view and looked for interesting landmarks along the way. Big Ben,
London Eye, etc. But, I also saw other bits of information that might be
interesting. Lots of black cabs, for example. Cars and busses driving down the
wrong side of the road. Red double-decker buses everywhere.
Here's
the scene that resulted. Keep in mind this is a first draft and it may change
before the book is finished, or it may be totally deleted by my editor.
Scene
15:I closed Skype. "Is it
time to go to bed yet?"
Angela looked at me like I was
crazy.
"To sleep. I've been up
all night."
"Didn't you sleep on the plane?"
"I may have. I guess I did
some, but I feel so tired."
"That's jet lag. The best
way to get past it is get on schedule here. You can imagine how much I travel
so I know what works."
"Okay, but I need to get
up and walk or something. That sofa of yours is looking good."
"How about a quick tour of
the city? This is your first time here, right?"
I stood to keep from falling
asleep at the desk. "Yes, but I'm in no condition for a tour. How about
tomorrow?"
"I'm not talking about a
long tour. Just a ride on a double-decker bus to keep you from falling asleep.
We'll have a late lunch, grab some coffee to keep you awake, and see a few
sights."
"And then I can go to bed?"
She laughed. "Yes. You can
go to sleep early if you like. But not before eight."
"Good. Have you made plans
for tomorrow?"
"Yes. I'll show you more
of London. We're meeting Andrew in the pub downstairs for an authentic English
meal."
"Andrew is coming
here?" Andrew was Sarah's brother who had initially blamed me for letting
her get killed. He apologized later after he learned the whole story. I hadn't
talked to him again after that.
"He's not coming here. He
lives in London."
"What does he want?"
I remembered him talking about his contacts in London. Maybe he could help find
Virgil. Or, was he talking about Angela?
"Nothing that I'm aware of.
I told him you'd be here and he said he wanted to see you."
"Oh."
"By the way, he's a
banker. I doubt if he knows how to break into accounts online as fast as you
do, but he may be able to offer a few, how shall we say, more legitimate connections
to banks and bankers."
"I'll keep that in mind.
It'll be good to see him. Thanks for setting it up." Remembering my last
encounter with Andrew caused me to think about Sarah. I never wanted to forget
her, but I didn't know what Angela would think if she knew what was on my mind.
We climbed aboard the first red
double-decker that came by on Victoria Street across from the building where
Angela lived. She took care of my fare and we found seats on the upper deck, I
got the window seat. It was cold outside, but not unbearable. I saw a sign that
showed the temperature to be three degrees Celsius or thirty-eight Fahrenheit.
I trusted she knew best, but I
longed for sleep. The heated bus made it harder to keep my eyes open. I took
off my coat and held in my lap.
"I know you're
drowsy," she said, "so let me tell you about where we are. Maybe that
will help you stay awake."
I leaned my head against the
glass, hoping its coolness would spark my attention. "Okay. But, first
tell me why everyone is driving on the wrong side of the road."
"What do you mean? The
Americans are the ones who drive on the wrong side."
"Hey. There's Scotland
Yard." I pointed to a building we were passing with a sign identifying it.
"Is that where you work?"
"I don't work for Scotland
Yard. You know that. They're like your city police. I'm more like your CIA."
"So where's your
office?"
"We'll it's not marked
like Scotland Yard."
"Is it near here?"
"We have many different
locations."
"You're not going to tell
me, are you?"
I stared out the window and
counted black cabs for a while and then saw a maroon-colored one. The people of
the street all walked with purpose as if going somewhere important even though
it was a holiday.
"There's Big Ben!" I
said.
"Right. Or, the houses of
parliament."
"Oh, and there's that new
Ferris wheel I saw on the news. It's huge."
"It's called the London
Eye," she said.
The bus turned left before the
bridge that would have crossed the River Thames and taken us to the side where
the London Eye was. We followed the water line and I saw boats on the river,
mostly large ones that looked as if they might be small restaurants. A few people
walked along the tree-covered walkway between the street where we were and the
water. There was another sidewalk beyond a wall closer to the river. I imagined
the area would be full of tourists during warmer times of the year.
We passed a tall, slender
monument of some type that came to a point on top. "What's that?" I
asked, pointing back to where it stood between us and the river.
"That's called the Cleopatra's
Needle. It's an Egyptian obelisk. There's one like it in New York City and a
similar one in Paris."
We continued along the river
for a ways.
"That's the Waterloo
Bridge we're coming to. Someday we'll look at a map and I'll show you all the
bridges that cross over the Thames."
As we approached the underpass
I looked up and saw three red double-decker buses crossing the bridge.
Just as we turned left off the
road that paralleled the river, Angela pointed. "That's Blackfriar
Station."
"That's another thing I
want to do while I'm here."
"What's that?"
"I want to learn how to
use the underground. I hear it is a great way to get around."
"It is. I almost took you
on it today, but I thought sitting up here on the bus would show you more and
keep you awake better. But, we'll be riding the underground a lot I'm
sure."
Angela leaned across me toward
the window. "We're going to get off in a couple of blocks. I know this
place that makes the best pizza in town. It's like Naples pizza, if you know
what I mean."
I didn't, but I assumed it was
good.
I followed Angela off the bus
and she led the way to the pizza place. It wasn't one of the chains we had in
Texas. As soon as we entered I know they used a wood oven, the smell was heavenly.
"Let me order,"
Angela said. "Get us a table."
I found a place near the window
so I could watch the people go by. I hung my coat over the back of my chair.
Angela returned with two large glasses of cloudy liquid.
"What's that?" I
asked.
"Lemonade. Not exactly a
winter drink, but I thought it might help you stay awake. They make this fresh
from lemons from Naples."
I took a sip that turned into a
gulp. "Excellent choice," I said.
"The owners came from
Naples about ten years ago and their pizzas are made the same with the first
pizzas were made there. I ordered one with tomato slices instead of a meat. I
think you'll like it."
As she talked, I looked. She
had a cute smile when she was happy and her whole body took on a sense of
happiness when she talked about something she was interested in. Even pizza.
A young woman with long dark
hair brought a large pizza and two plates.
The first thing I noticed was
how thin the crust was. I was used to a much thicker one. But after taking a
bite, I know why Angela liked this place. Delicious.
We at silently for a while and
I savored every mouthful.
"Okay," she said.
"Next stop is the coffee shop. That pizza woke you up, but I'm not any
chances."
The coffee shop was across the
street from the pizza place. When we got there, Angela pulled a silver Thermos
out of the large handbag she carried.
"Fill this up,
please," she said to the barista. "No need to rinse it first. It's
clean."
After placing the filled
Thermos in her handbag, she headed toward the door.
"I thought we were going
to have coffee," I said.
"We are. Just hold
on."
I followed her as she walked
briskly away from the coffee shop. Up ahead I could see a large building with a
dome on top.
"What's that?" I
asked.
"That's where we're going
next. That's St. Paul's Cathedral."
We continued along the sidewalk
until we were in front of the enormous church.
"I recognize this place.
Those steps especially. What movie would I have seen of this church?"
"You're probably thinking
of Mary Poppins."
"That's it. Dick Van Dyke
and Julie Andrews. Right?"
"That's right. There have
been other movies made around and in the church. One of the Harry Potter movies
and the latest Sherlock Holmes movie."
Angela led me to a wide stair
case in a corner of the church. We started up.
"Where does this
lead?" I asked.
"You'll see. Not only will
this keep you awake, you'll be truly amazed when you get there."
There weren't many others on
the stairs. We finally reached an area where we could walk all around the dome.
I looked down. "You're
right. This is beautiful."
She laughed. "This is the
whispering gallery. We're only about a third of the way to where we're
going."
I looked up, but didn't see any
way to go further.
"Follow me," she
said.
She led me to a smaller
stairway. One where we had to stop and twist for people coming down. After what
seemed like forever, we reached a point where we went outside.
"Ah, this is it.
Beautiful," I said.
"No. This is the stone
gallery. We're about two-thirds the way to the top now."
Soon, she was walking up and I
was following. When she finally stopped, I knew I was there.
"Here we are," she
said. "The golden gallery. Eighty-five meters from the cathedral floor.
Five-hundred and twenty-eight steps."
My mind converted meters to
feet automatically. Two-hundred-eighty-seven, almost two-hundred-eighty-eight
feet. But I didn't care. The view was unbelievable. Cool wind whipped around
us, but it wasn't all that uncomfortable. I walked all around the top of the
dome looking at the city below from different vantage points. When I got back to
where I'd started, I found Angela sitting on a wall drinking a cup of coffee. I
pulled out my cell phone and took her photo.
She passed the silver cup, the
Thermos lid, to me. Smoke rose from the liquid. The smell of fresh coffee was
awakening in itself. I took a sip, still holding my phone in my other hand. I
passed the cup to her.
"What time is it back home
now?" I asked.
She looked at her watch.
"About eleven-thirty in the morning."
"Is that Austin
time?"
"Yes."
"Then, nine-thirty in
California. I'm going to call my mother."
I tapped in the number and
waited. Angela shook her head, but smiled and handed me the coffee cup when my
other hand was free. Another couple popped through the opening to our level and
stared at me like I was crazy. I don't know if it was because of the coffee or
the phone, and I didn't care.
"Hello."
"Mom. Guess where I
am?"
"London, I hope. That's
where you said you were going."
"Yeah, but where in
London?"
"I have no idea."
Angela took the cup from me and
refilled it. She took a sip and motioned it toward me. I shook my head.
"I'm on the very top of
St. Paul's Cathedral with Angela. We're having coffee here."
"Is that allowed, dear?
Doesn't seem like a good place for a picnic."
"We climbed five-hundred
and twenty-eight steps, Mom. We're resting up for the walk back down."
"Okay, dear. Just don't
spill any coffee and be careful on the way down."
"Okay, Mom. Love
you." She didn't understand. She'd have to see the place to know what I
meant.
That was the highlight of the
day. When we finished our coffee we made the trek down to the street and took
the underground back to Angela's flat. She made coffee in an effort to keep me
awake a little longer while I waited on the sofa.
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