It’s seven by the time Rat and Morgan reach the campground where they spent the previous night. The sun is still high above the horizon, but Rat feels all her accumulated exhaustion, her guilt at having yelled at Morgan, flooding her. She’s suddenly so tired she wants to cry. It’s as much as she can do to find a patch of grass on which to unload their knapsacks. She flops to the ground, stretches out on her back. Later on, after she’s had a rest, she can begin to think about the driest spot to pitch their tent.

Morgan seats himself at a distance from her.

“Don’t wipe your nose on your shirt.”

“I don’t have anything else.” He’s still being a bit formal with her.

She reaches over to feel his burning forehead. “Damn, I meant to buy you some Doliprane.” She searches in her pockets for a tissue, finally extracts a T-shirt from her knapsack. “Here, wipe your nose on that. I’m going to have a sleep; I’m zonked.”

“Yeah, you have a sleep.”

“Don’t go anywhere; don’t talk to anybody, okay?”

She curls up on her side, with her sleeping bag as pillow. When she awakens, the evening sun has vanished behind clouds, and it’s chilly. Morgan is sitting a few yards away, still playing with his Happy Meals mini-skateboard, and humming through his head cold. She sits up and surveys her surroundings. She feels better.

The campground is not crowded; there are maybe half a dozen trailers and a few cars, all with English plates. There is one couple, however, sitting beside a very beat-up station wagon, who inspire her with a flicker of hope. It all depends on which direction they’re headed, whether they’ve just arrived in France or if they’re going home. “Wait here a moment, Mo.”

When she comes back, she says, “Let’s move our stuff.”

“How come? Isn’t this a good spot?”

“I have a plan.”

“What?” Morgan’s tone is skeptical.

“I’m not going to tell you, except that it involves your being very sweet and charming to whoever I happen to start talking to. Think you can handle that?”

Morgan attempts a dimpled simper.

“Yuck. Better not smile. Just stick to your usual glowering self. Please.”

They set down their knapsacks a couple of yards away from the English couple. The woman smiles at them.