Rat deposits their passports on the countertop. Unable to breathe from the tension. Checks the back of her hand to make sure her father’s telephone number is still legible. She should memorize it, really, before it disappears. Repeats in her head his e-mail message. Maybe she will like this man. Maybe he will like her. Maybe he’s shy, as Vanessa always said, and he’s just been waiting all these years for her to make the first move.

She wonders whether he will kiss her or whether they will shake hands. English people are formal. They don’t kiss strangers, even if the stranger is their daughter. Probably they will shake hands. Later on, when they get to know each other better, then it will be different. She wonders if he will ask her about Vanessa, and what Rat will say. She won’t mention Thierry, that’s for sure: she wants her mother to look good in this man’s eyes.

The young man in uniform has called over an older woman. “I’m not coming up with any fares,” he says.

The older woman stands beside him, looking over his shoulder. She takes a look at Rat and peers over the counter to catch a glimpse of Morgan. She looks again at Morgan. It’s a look certain kinds of French people get when they see an Arab, even if that Arab is a small boy. She says something to the young man, and he too glances at Rat and Morgan, but Rat can’t hear what they’re saying.

The woman now addresses Rat. “Is there an accompanying adult?”

“No, just me,” says Rat. “Our dad is waiting for us at the other end.”

“Is he your legal guardian?”

“No, my mom is.”

“And where does your mother live?”

“Here in France.”

“You need an authorized parental consent form for this child to leave French territory without an adult. Your mother should know that. In any case, we don’t accept unaccompanied minors.”

The woman is wearing brown foundation. Her fingernails are unnaturally thick and square ended, more like tools than nails, and they are lacquered chocolate brown. She has a short, layered haircut with purplish highlights. Rat hates this woman, but the hate isn’t going to do them any good.

“He isn’t unaccompanied: I’m taking him. We’re going to stay with our dad.”

“Yes, but you’re a minor, too. You need to be over the age of eighteen.”

“You mean we need a letter from our mom?” Rat is considering rapidly whether she could possibly bring herself to call up Vanessa and ask her for this favor. No. But maybe they can forge a letter themselves.

The official snorts. “No, I don’t mean a letter from your mother. It’s a stamped and notarized form your mother needs to get from the préfecture.”