Page 172 of Pervade London
Xavier cringed. “It’s been decided, Em, and we need you to accept it.”
“We’re talking about my career,” I whispered.
Xavier looked at me sympathetically, but James spun round and headed off.
“Oh, look, this way to the Tyrannosaurus,” he called back.
We followed him, strolling up to the enormous T-Rex skeleton with its short arms and big head—and that grimacing jaw. Somehow knowing it was a plaster cast took the shine off seeing it. “How accurate is it?”
“Very.” Xavier stared up at it admiringly. “To me it’s the sexiest of all the dinos.”
“I’m more of a Spinosaurus kind of guy,” James chimed in.
We turned to look at him.
Xavier piped up, “That one’s ugly.”
“Yeah, but he’s capable of ripping your T-Rex to shreds, so there you go.”
Their rivalry amused me—along with the fact that James’ sensitivity was showing, finally. He knew his refusal to allow me to perform at the Russian Embassy was hurting me, and that seemingly hurt him, too. Reaching out, I gave his hand a squeeze to comfort him. He responded with an affectionate smile and then brought my hand to his lips and kissed it.
Xavier nudged between us and looked at me. “Did you know the T-Rex had an extensive vocabulary?”
I thought about it. “In what way? You mean the noises they made?”
“No, they liked to read the Thesaurus.” Xavier grinned at me and winked.
I let out a snort of laughter, which caused James to laugh at me.
With the tension defused a little we continued our tour, strolling through the Darwin Center and then onto the treasures of the Cadogan Gallery with its objects that were over 4.5 billion years old.We got up close to a meteorite and then a dodo. Next, we explored our ancient relatives, the cave men. The male of the species hadn’t really changed, I secretly mused. They were still chest-beating alphas. James was probably a direct descendant of the one at the back—all crazy-ass ruggedness, hailed as the leader of the tribe.
It was impossible to forget that an hour ago, Xavier had accused James of setting me up to play at the Russian Embassy. Or that’s what I’d deduced from the snippets of conversation I’d heard while eavesdropping.
Lowering my voice, I said to James, “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” He peered into a glass case containing fossilized tools. Right then he looked like any other person and not someone with the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“The moon landing fifty years ago,” I said quietly. “Did it happen?”
James blinked in surprise. “Are you about to launch an interrogation into conspiracy theories?”
“Yes.” That earned me a scowl from him—probably because he’d figured out I’d overheard their conversation at the restaurant. “It’s just that with your influence I’m sure you’re privy to these things.”
“Aliens are real.” Xavier waggled his eyebrows playfully.
“Seriously?” I felt a rush of excitement, and wondered what else I should ask about.
“Global warming is real,” began James, “and the world isn’t flat. Stop the madness.”
I waved my hand through the air. “I know all that.”
James looked amused. “But did you know there are a series of tunnels and secret passageways beneath London?”
My eyes went wide. “Really?”
“Yes, right beneath your feet.”
“What about the pizza conspiracy theory?” asked Xavier.
