‘He must trust your driving ability.’

She was thinking things through; he could see something going on behind her eyes. He changed the subject. ‘Why did you not pick Spain for your vacation here? I thought the English preferred the Spanish coast.’

‘A certain type of English, I think.’ She looked back at the sleeping boy. ‘Maybe I should have taken Ryan there. He’d have more friends, and we’d have been able to save money. Things are more expensive here.’

‘I have money. I can lend you some.’

‘No, it wouldn’t be right.’

‘It is only money. You must not misunderstand my purpose, Madeline. I mean, it would help you to stay. I will miss you if you go.’

‘I didn’t mean—it’s very kind of you to offer, Johann.’ She placed her hand on his and smiled. The barrier between them thawed a little further.

‘Tonight I take you to El Morocco. You like couscous?’

‘I don’t think I’ve ever had it.’

‘Then I show you what you are missing. Then we put Ryan to bed and I take you for a drink.’

‘Only at my hotel.’ It was not a refusal. This time he was unable to keep the smile from his face. Perhaps he worried too much about hiding his feelings. Where was the harm? He could feel she was genuinely starting to care about him. He allowed himself to dream about her a little.

It was a dream that did not include the boy. He had always imagined that true love would arrive in the form of a virgin, not a single mother as old as himself. He knew he would have to adjust. Nothing was ever what you expected. That was the beauty and the terror of life.

Smiling to himself, he pushed down on the accelerator, and the Mercedes crested the curve of the Moyenne Corniche with a wealthy roar.

10

EMBARKATION

Very early on Tuesday morning, John May arrived at his partner’s house in Chalk Farm to find him already outside, trying to close the doors of Alma’s van.

‘There’s a mile of string tied around this engine,’ he said, peering beneath the bonnet of the old white Bedford. ‘It looks like it’s holding the distributor cap on.’

‘Your obsession with reliability is misguided,’ Bryant replied cheerfully, opening the passenger door and checking the musty interior. ‘My father used to make deliveries all across London in one of these, right through the 1950s. It took them ages to catch him.’ This was the sort of annoying remark Bryant was wont to make, in that it obscured as much information as it illuminated. ‘Do you think it will hold the Garden of Eden?’

‘I’m sorry?’ May looked up from under the hood. His partner’s conversation always left you feeling you’d missed something.