“Yes. Have you been?” he asks, seeming surprised that I know this.
“No, but I want to. It’s on my to do list while I’m here. Its history fascinates me.”
“Why is that?”
“The Archbishop was slaughtered there in front of his altar by King Henry’s Household Knights.”
A frown crosses his face. “History buff, are you?”
I smile. “Perhaps. It was one of the reasons that Emerson and I wanted to come here. We love old buildings and history. We don’t have anything like that in Australia. Australia has only been a country for three-hundred or so years. The only old thing we have a lot of back home are tombstones.”
He sips his drink and licks the red wine from his bottom lip.
“There are lots of old things in the United Kingdom.” He raises his eyebrow suggestively as if to imply that he is one of
