“Long as you manage not to get blown up by suicide bombers,” Jérôme’s voice intervenes.

“You know, I was planning to work till the middle of August, and then my dad wants us to come down to the country with them for a couple of weeks. But I dunno, maybe I’ll come home after that …”

Rat feels the excitement mounting as she says these words.

She starts thinking how nice it would be to return to Mas Cargol with some money in her pocket. If they get back the end of August, that’s still a month of swimming in the sea. If she manages to save enough money, maybe she could even take her mother and the Cabreras to dinner one night at Chez Ernest. Only thing that’s certain, she’s not going back to Victor Hugo in September. Soon as she gets Morgan settled in school, then she’s heading up to the Ariège to Pauline’s sheep farm.

Next, Florian wants to speak to Rat. She hears his familiar dope-soaked rasp.

“Girl, you are all over the news, you’ve definitely hit the big-time. The Pyrénées-Orientales are so beat. We had a bunch of shop windows broke, cars burnt, and we thought it was Armageddon. You Londoners, it’s not enough you get the Olympics, you also get the entire metro system getting blown sky-high by multiple, totally synchronized suicide bombers. What a happening place!”

As soon as Rat hangs up from Florian, the phone rings again. Rat knows who it’s going to be.

At first there’s silence at the other end of the line, and then a great sob, and then all Vanessa can say is “Rat, Rat, Rat, my darling Ratkin” over and over.

“I’m fine, Mama, we both are, me and Morgan,” Rat reassures her.

“But you could have been blown to smithereens! God, I was so worried. When I heard on the television, I almost died. And then Gillem’s wife said they hadn’t heard from you yet …”

“I’m fine, Mama.” Rat clears her throat. “How about you? How are you doing?”

“Don’t ask,” says her mother’s voice with a big gulp in which tears and laughter are mixed. “God, girl, I am such a mess.”

“What’s wrong?” asks Rat. Although she knows.