But what if he could borrow it from somebody? Ralf grabbed his phone and sat up in bed. It was Sunday, and early in the morning. With a bit of luck, his friends might still be awake.

3

3

“Not even four hours from home, and a whole other world.” Helen gripped the railing and drew a deep breath of sea air. Seagulls circled around the boat. The metal deck hummed with the pistons of the engines; she could feel the vibrations under her feet. Slowly, the dock disappeared from view; diesel fumes rose into the sky.

Werner stood beside her and looked out pensively over the Strait of Dover. The sea was gray green, with white foam capping the waves. “We could have taken the tunnel instead, and it would have been much quicker, but I think this is more fun. More of a view.”

“Good choice. Though the other passengers aren’t quite what I expected.”

He looked around. The early sailing from Calais to Dover seemed to be particularly popular with stocky men in leather jackets. Gruff-faced, smoking, most of them alone. The hold was full of vans and trucks with Eastern European license plates. “You’re right, I don’t remember it being like this last time either.”

“Well, that was twenty years ago now. Isn’t it strange that we haven’t been back in all that time? It’s so close.”

He shrugged. “Bad weather, no euro. All the fuss and expense of crossing the channel. Driving on the left.”

“Fuss? The kids would love this. They’ve never been on a boat before.”

“They’ve already been enough places with us—we need to leave them a few things to look forward to.”

“True.” She pulled her coat tighter. From the corner of her eye, she could see the men staring at her. “I think I might be the only woman on board.”

“Lucky me.” Werner moved behind her and threw his arms around her.

Helen expected him to let go at any moment. Her intimate moments with Werner had all been so brief over the last few months—or was it years? They lasted exactly as long as he thought necessary to placate her.

But he didn’t let go. Their fingers locked together, and she felt his cheek lightly brush against hers.

“Wonderful,” he sighed. “Nothing to do. No kids, no work.”

Helen looked out dreamily at a container ship in the distance. The fall sun sparkled over the waves. “Are you finally going to tell me what we’ll be doing?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

She turned her head slightly to look at him. “Not the same bed-and-breakfast as last time?”

He grinned. “No way. Remember that dining room? The three different kinds of carpet joined together with duct tape?”

“And the breakfast with the homemade black pudding? That woman watching from the doorway with her arms folded and asking us what we thought of it the whole time?”