The Secret Prophecy Read Online Free PDF Page B

want to say no. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Charlotte. She was terribly pretty and very friendly, but he was wary of her. She seemed a lot older than he was, although he knew she couldn’t be. Maybe living in America had made her more sophisticated or something. Her confidence felt alien.
    “Just explore a bit,” Charlotte said easily. “See the artists in the Latin Quarter or visit Notre Dame or stare at the Seine or whatever we can do from here and still get back in time for supper.”
    “Your father said we weren’t to go outside.”
    She gave him a withering glance. “Do you always do what you’re told?”
    “Well, no,” Em said uncertainly, “but . . .”
    “Then come on!” Charlotte urged. “This is my first time in Paris. Tomorrow we’ll be cooped up in Daddy’s miserable symposium, and the day after that we’re on the road again. This is our only chance. The City of Light! Gay Paree! Do you have cab money?”
    “A bit,” Em admitted, “but . . .”
    “Then we can go absolutely anywhere.” She gave him a huge grin. “Wouldn’t you like to look at the posters outside the Folies Bergère?”
    He realized suddenly he was being a total wimp. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s explore.”
    He felt nervous passing the door of Tom’s room, but they reached the foyer without incident. The hotel entrance faced onto a quiet side street. “I don’t suppose you have a street map?” he asked.
    Charlotte glanced up at him. “I do, as a matter of fact. There was a brochure thing in my room at the hotel. It has a map of the city center.” She pulled it from her pocket. “Is there somewhere you specially want to go?”
    There was a hint of excited enjoyment rising from his stomach. He was beginning to realize he actually was in Paris, with money in his pocket (not a lot, but enough) and could go anywhere he wanted. “I’ve always fancied seeing the Louvre ever since I read The Da Vinci Code. ”
    “There’s a coincidence.” Charlotte grinned. “Me too. I think we can walk from here. We need to get onto the main streets though.”
    “Okay,” Em said. “I’m game if you are.”
    They found their way onto a main road; but as they were crossing the river, Charlotte suddenly hesitated. “I keep getting the feeling we’re being watched. You know, like when somebody stares at the back of your neck.”
    Em glanced around him. Traffic on the bridge was heavy, but none of the hurrying pedestrians seemed to be paying them any particular attention. “I don’t think so,” he said uncertainly. “What’s given you the feeling?”
    Charlotte smiled. “Oh, you know—woman’s intu-ition.” The smile became apologetic. “It’s probably just my imagination.”
    “Yes, probably,” Em said.
    As Charlotte promised, the museum was not far, but as the pyramid came into view, they realized that the queue to the ticket desk stretched across the square and down one of the surrounding streets. Em stared at it for a moment. “I don’t fancy standing in line for hours,” he said.
    “Neither do I,” Charlotte said at once. “Let’s find somewhere and have a cup of coffee.”
    They discovered tables set out in a colonnade to one side of the square, most taken by chattering couples and groups drinking wine. A scurrying waiter pointed to a small table for two beside one of the pillars and said cheerfully, “Ici!” As they sat down, he asked, “You do not require a full meal?” Em shook his head quickly. “In that case, this menu.” The waiter handed them a printed card. “I shall return when you have time to consider.”
    “How did he know we were English?” Em asked, frowning.
    Charlotte shrugged. “Perhaps we look English. When he comes back, I’ll order us citron pressés in French; that’ll confuse him.”
    From their vantage point they could still see the queue for the Louvre. A coach had pulled up in the square, disgorging an enormous party of very young schoolchildren who milled