He turned and saw that two small children had climbed on top of a large barrel resting on a wagon, parked at the side of the street. Between them they held up a tricolour flag with his name embroidered on it. Napoleon waved at them and they shouted with delight and waved back frantically. Just before they passed out of sight he glimpsed a glittering spark below them in the wagon. Then the carriage jolted as it passed by and the children and the wagon were gone.

Josephine chuckled. ‘It seems your public loves you.’Then she noticed the faint frown in his brow. ‘What? What is it?’

Napoleon shook his head. ‘I’m not sure.’

He leaned out of the window and stared back towards the wagon at an angle. The children were still waving. He shrugged and settled back against the seat cushion. Josephine was still staring at him and he forced himself to laugh. ‘It’s nothing. Really.’

Outside in the street the world dissolved into a brilliant flash of white, then orange, and an instant later there was a deafening roar, and the carriage was slammed forward as if a giant fist had struck the rear. Napoleon and Josephine were hurled against the seats opposite, amid a shower of broken glass. For a moment Napoleon could hear nothing, and his head felt as if it was stuffed with wool.The light from the torches outside had gone and thick black smoke smothered the street. He shook off the glass and groped towards Josephine, his heart beating in panic and dread. He felt her body, and as she stirred a wave of relief swept through him. His ears filled with a dull roaring sound that slowly resolved into specific noises: the shrill whinny of an injured horse; screams and moans and the shouts of people frantically calling out for their friends and family.

‘Napoleon?’ Josephine’s voice sounded slightly muffled as she pulled herself up on to a seat and held his face in her hands. He saw that her cheek was bleeding from a cut. She spoke again, and he heard her more clearly this time as his hearing recovered. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine . . . I think.’ Napoleon glanced over his body and flexed his limbs.There was no pain and no blood.Then he turned to the shattered window on his side of the carriage. ‘An explosion. A bomb.’