The Mystery of the Third Lucretia Read Online Free PDF Page B

is closed. Even though he has to cook a lot in his restaurant he still loves doing it, so he stayed home and cooked something special for dinner.
    It was delicious. I think we were eating salmon with raspberry sauce when we started talking about what Lucas and I were going to do the next day.
    â€œRobert and Celia have things to do tomorrow,” Mom said, “and I have to meet with a photographer at nine. I know that’s a little early for you two. Do you mind spending another day just hanging around here?”
    â€œUm, Mom,” I began, and looked at Lucas for support, “Lucas and I would like to go into London by ourselves.”
    Mom was so surprised that she just held her forkful of food in the air for a minute. Then she said, “Forget about it,” as if the discussion was over, and started eating again.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause you’re too young to be wandering around London by yourselves,” she said after she’d swallowed.
    â€œNo we’re not,” I said. “We could get along fine.”
    â€œLook how well we did on our own in the British Museum,” Lucas chimed in. “We never got in trouble, and we always met you exactly when we were supposed to.”
    Mom, suddenly outnumbered two to one, turned to Robert and Celia. “Tell them they’re not old enough, you two,” she said, and confidently took another bite of her salmon.
    But Robert’s answer gave her another surprise. “Course they’re old enough, Gillian old girl,” he said. “They’re not kiddies. They’re proper young ladies, they are. What d’you think, Cele?”
    â€œWell, actually,” Celia said, “I think when I was their age I got along quite nicely in London on my own. But of course I knew my way about.” Celia doesn’t sound like Robert when she talks. She sounds more like the rich English people that you see in movies.
    I came up with a good argument. “We do know our way about. I mean around. We’re always the ones who tell Mom which way to go on the Underground, and we always find the right bus to catch. And by now we’re used to looking right instead of left before we cross the street. And last time we were in London, Mom and I walked all over. I remember exactly how to get to almost all the places we saw, and I know where we can find the public loos. I mean bathrooms. Whatever.” Loo is the English word for bathroom.
    â€œBut how about safety?” Mom said. “London attracts some pretty bizarre characters.”
    â€œNot in April,” Robert said. “We don’t start attracting the swarming hordes of bleeding tourists until at least May. It’s that lot gives us trouble. We native Londoners are angels. Good Church of England stock.”
    â€œYeah, right,” Mom broke in. “Bet you haven’t been to church since the day you were christened.”
    Robert turned to Celia just as if he’d never been interrupted. “What say we let Gillian and these young women use our mobiles?” That’s what they call cell phones over there.
    â€œBrilliant,” Celia said, and nodded.
    â€œBesides,” Robert added, “we don’t have more than seven, eight cases a year of young girls being captured and sold into white slavery under Lord Nelson’s column.” He gave Lucas and me a big wink.
    â€œPlease, Mom?” My mom is not one of those mothers who change their mind if their kid whines enough, but I thought a little begging couldn’t hurt.
    â€œWhy do I have the feeling I’ve lost control of this argument?” Mom said.
    â€œWhy does your mum feel she ever had control of the argument?” Robert said, and gave Lucas and me a second wink.
    So we spent the rest of the night getting about a billion instructions from Mom. She said we should call her every hour. Plus she told us don’t talk to strangers, stay together, always stop and look