Feeling a raindrop splat on my nose, I looked up to see an ominous bank of storm clouds rolling over us … again.
“I hope you’re not fixin’ that we should set our watches by that thing,” Bobbi fretted. “I hate to be the one to point out the obvious, but it’s only got one hand.”
“It’s more of an astronomical clock than an actual timepiece,” said Madeleine. “The ball above the clock indicates the phase of the moon, and the inset below the Roman numeral VI specifies the day of the week. And even though the single hand only indicates the hour of the day and not the minute, two thirteenth-century bells inside the tower ring out the hour, half hour, and quarter—”
The clouds burst above us like water surging from a pitcher pump. Down came the rain. Up went our umbrellas. Out came the boo birds.
“I’ve HAD it!” snarled Bernice.
“Me, too!” spat Virginia.
Madeleine herded us beneath the shelter of the arch, where a flock of sheep grazed in magnificent stone relief above us.
“Take us back to the boat,” Bernice demanded.
“I am required to stay with the guests who want to continue the tour,” Madeleine explained in an even tone, “but if you would like to return to the boat, I will give you directions.”
“You brought us here, so you should take us back,” insisted Virginia.
“Non, non. I am not contracted to escort you back, but it is very simple. Walk back to the cathedral, turn right onto the Rue Grand Pont, and continue straight until you reach the river. The Renoir will be moored along the embankment.”
“Which cathedral are you talking about?” asked Woody. “The first one or the second one?”
“The one you can see from here,” said Madeleine. She gestured back down the mall toward Notre-Dame. “Turn right onto that boulevard.”
“But how do we find our way back to the boat?” fussed another woman.
“The boulevard to the right of Notre-Dame will lead you straight back to the boat.”
“How are we supposed to find Notre-Dame?” pressed Bernice.
Madeleine pursed her lips, her eyes shooting tiny sparks. “It is right there. At the end of the mall. Can you not see it?”
“I’m not sure how you expect us to find our way back by ourselves,” groused Virginia. “It’s outrageous that you’re just going to abandon us. The next time I take a tour, you can be sure it won’t be with any slipshod company like this one.” She flung a disgusted look at Victor. “This is all your fault. River cruise. I didn’t want to take a river cruise.”
“How many of you would like to leave the tour now?” asked Madeleine.
Bernice and Virginia shot their hands into the air immediately. Other hands drifted up more slowly. Bobbi. Dawna. Woody and his contingent.
“But I’ve got a question,” said Dawna, as she kicked rainwater off her alligator boots. “How do we get back to the boat?”
Oh, God.
“I’ll take them,” offered Cal. “Or at least get them on the right road. I’ve got a map.”
“Merci beaucoup,” Madeleine gushed, her voice dripping with gratitude.
“Not so fast, pretty boy,” taunted Bernice. “I’m not going anywhere until it stops raining.”
“Neither am I,” declared Virginia. “I’m staying put until the storm lets up.”