but Rebecca wanted to watch a little longer, fascinated by the couple’s ardent abandon. As she parted the branches for a better view, the noise caught the man’s attention and he looked up. Their eyes met for an instant before Rebecca released the branches and jumped back, startled.
Berta tugged on Rebecca’s arm. When they had gotten far enough away, she chided Rebecca. “They caught you, didn’t they?”
Rebecca still looked panicked. “Just him.”
“What’d he do?”
“Nothing, just looked at me.”
“Well, at least he has better manners than we do. Why did you keep spying on them? They were just kissing.”
“Oh, but the way they were kissing . . . ”
“It sounds like you need to teach Mario how to be a bit more passionate.”
“I’m not sure that’s something that can be taught. Are you?”
Berta gave her a crooked smile. “Come on, let’s go.”
They returned home and found Lola’s door closed. They decided to give the couple some privacy, so they took a blanket and went to the back garden. It was almost nine when Lola appeared in front of them, her long, curly black hair disheveled.
“Did you have a nice nap?” Rebecca prodded.
Lola tried to look offended, but she giggled.
“It looks like you’ve been having a great time,” said Berta. “Where is he? Hiding under the bed?”
“He left. But he’s coming early tomorrow to pick me up. We’re going to Inverness.
Rebecca scowled. “And what about us?”
“We’ll all go together another day, I promise. But for now I want to be alone with Rory. You understand, right? Tell me you understand . . . please ,” she added in English.
“What can we say to that?” Berta conceded.
Lola kissed each friend on the cheek and added, “We’ll be back for supper. The four of us can eat together, OK?
“Sounds like a fabulous plan.” Rebecca was still pouting. “And who’s going to make supper?”
Lola gave her a hangdog look, and Rebecca gave in. “Go, take your shower. You look like you’ve been in a tumbling match.”
“And what would you know about a good tumble? I’m certain that stuffy boyfriend of yours has no idea . . . ”
Rebecca stuck out her tongue, and Lola disappeared behind the bathroom door.
NEW FRIENDS
Lola had already left when they got up the next morning, so Berta and Rebecca decided to visit the ruins of the monastery as well as an impressive building they read about in the guidebook Rory had given them. They just had to follow Riverside Drive along the river to the site.
They saw Mrs. Munro happily working in her garden and waved at her as they set out. She was wearing a straw hat with a scarf tied over it and under her chin. They were surprised she would take such care to protect herself from the sun, which seemed to have migrated from these environs.
The walk to the monastery was only a few minutes. To the right, the river was hidden behind a wall of hundred-year-old trees—twisting oaks with green leaves and birch trees with feathery branches and silver bark—competing in beauty with solitary patches of grass and splashes of heather and ferns. To the left, a line of white houses with black roofs enjoyed the peaceful view.
The girls soon found the monastery, or at least what was left of it. Rebecca took the guidebook from her backpack and read about the ruins.
“It says here the monastery was founded in 1230 by the Valls . . . ” She sounded it out slowly. “Valliscaulian Order. Whew! Sounds like aliens.”
The remains of the church were in the shape of a cross. They were in the middle of a broad green space littered with headstones of all sizes—some upright, others lying down—and surrounded by a stone wall. They took their time trying to decipher the inscriptions, most of which were in Latin. One in particular caught their attention. Fortunately, there was a small plaque at the base with the English translation. Rebecca read it solemnly:
“ ‘Death is gain to us.
Berta tugged on Rebecca’s arm. When they had gotten far enough away, she chided Rebecca. “They caught you, didn’t they?”
Rebecca still looked panicked. “Just him.”
“What’d he do?”
“Nothing, just looked at me.”
“Well, at least he has better manners than we do. Why did you keep spying on them? They were just kissing.”
“Oh, but the way they were kissing . . . ”
“It sounds like you need to teach Mario how to be a bit more passionate.”
“I’m not sure that’s something that can be taught. Are you?”
Berta gave her a crooked smile. “Come on, let’s go.”
They returned home and found Lola’s door closed. They decided to give the couple some privacy, so they took a blanket and went to the back garden. It was almost nine when Lola appeared in front of them, her long, curly black hair disheveled.
“Did you have a nice nap?” Rebecca prodded.
Lola tried to look offended, but she giggled.
“It looks like you’ve been having a great time,” said Berta. “Where is he? Hiding under the bed?”
“He left. But he’s coming early tomorrow to pick me up. We’re going to Inverness.
Rebecca scowled. “And what about us?”
“We’ll all go together another day, I promise. But for now I want to be alone with Rory. You understand, right? Tell me you understand . . . please ,” she added in English.
“What can we say to that?” Berta conceded.
Lola kissed each friend on the cheek and added, “We’ll be back for supper. The four of us can eat together, OK?
“Sounds like a fabulous plan.” Rebecca was still pouting. “And who’s going to make supper?”
Lola gave her a hangdog look, and Rebecca gave in. “Go, take your shower. You look like you’ve been in a tumbling match.”
“And what would you know about a good tumble? I’m certain that stuffy boyfriend of yours has no idea . . . ”
Rebecca stuck out her tongue, and Lola disappeared behind the bathroom door.
NEW FRIENDS
Lola had already left when they got up the next morning, so Berta and Rebecca decided to visit the ruins of the monastery as well as an impressive building they read about in the guidebook Rory had given them. They just had to follow Riverside Drive along the river to the site.
They saw Mrs. Munro happily working in her garden and waved at her as they set out. She was wearing a straw hat with a scarf tied over it and under her chin. They were surprised she would take such care to protect herself from the sun, which seemed to have migrated from these environs.
The walk to the monastery was only a few minutes. To the right, the river was hidden behind a wall of hundred-year-old trees—twisting oaks with green leaves and birch trees with feathery branches and silver bark—competing in beauty with solitary patches of grass and splashes of heather and ferns. To the left, a line of white houses with black roofs enjoyed the peaceful view.
The girls soon found the monastery, or at least what was left of it. Rebecca took the guidebook from her backpack and read about the ruins.
“It says here the monastery was founded in 1230 by the Valls . . . ” She sounded it out slowly. “Valliscaulian Order. Whew! Sounds like aliens.”
The remains of the church were in the shape of a cross. They were in the middle of a broad green space littered with headstones of all sizes—some upright, others lying down—and surrounded by a stone wall. They took their time trying to decipher the inscriptions, most of which were in Latin. One in particular caught their attention. Fortunately, there was a small plaque at the base with the English translation. Rebecca read it solemnly:
“ ‘Death is gain to us.
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