“What if those two end up sitting right next to us at dinner?”

She burst into laughter once more. “Oh, stop it! Honestly, if that happens, then you’ll have to carry me out of there.”

“It’s her husband I feel sorry for. She had him perfectly trained.”

“Not entirely. He kept staring at my cleavage.”

“I don’t blame him.” His hand cupped her right breast. “Scandalous, the way you carry on.”

“Since when are Anthropologie dresses scandalous? They’re very tasteful, don’t you know.”

His fingers brushed teasingly over her nipple. “Not with your gorgeous body squeezed into them, they aren’t. Then they’re positively outrageous.”

Helen gasped. Her whole body responded to his touch.

“Especially in a respectable hotel like this,” he murmured as his other hand disappeared under her dress. “Full of such respectable people.”

24

24

The drive had gone well until they reached the Antwerp ring road, where an overturned truck had delayed them by a full hour. Shortly after that, they had filled up the gas tank—Sara had paid—and they were now crossing the French border. The voices on the radio were incomprehensible.

Ralf was dazed by the lights of the oncoming traffic. He narrowed his eyes to slits and pretended that he had everything under control. The imminent prospect of driving on the left in England filled him with anxiety, but it wasn’t half as terrifying as the knowledge that he would be coming face-to-face with Sara’s parents once he got there. And yet he had to do this. Not for Sara or her mother, but for himself.

Sara obviously wasn’t feeling her best either. She had her face turned away from him and was pretending to look out of the window, but he could see her shoulders shaking. Every now and then, he heard a sob.

“How much farther do we have?”

Sara wiped her nose with the back of her hand and looked at her phone. “Another hour and a half or so. Just follow this road.” Her voice was nasal.

“Wouldn’t it have been better to book tickets in advance?”

“How could I? I don’t even have a credit card.”

“What if—”

“It’s a regular service. Trains go back and forth all the time. It won’t be a problem—it’s not like we have a big truck or anything. They always have room for a car.”

He paused briefly. “How many times have you been to England?”

“Never. But I’ve heard enough about it.” She kept looking at him. “Why were you there that night, Ralf?”

“I already told you.” His eyelids fluttered. These oncoming headlights were driving him crazy. He was afraid to drive as fast as he normally did. “Brian needed a ride. He’d lost his license. All I had to do was wait for him outside. I only found out later whose house it was.”