The next day, early in the afternoon, I was waiting for Elgin on a bench in the courtyard of the clock tower, the weather was superb. He’d called me earlier to tell me he would be arriving from Edinburgh in less than an hour.
I had finished my lessons and I was very happy. I pulled one of my favourite books out of my bag, The Name of the Rose—which I was reading for the second time—and made myself comfortable.
The yard was nice on a day like this, a lot of students were lounging on the grass. I turned my face for a few seconds to the sky to catch as much heat as possible and began to read.
A few minutes later, very concentrated, I arrived at the part when Adso, Guillaume de Baskerville’s secretary, was about to enter the forbidden library.
“The Name of the Rose, eh?”
I looked up to f
