Swept along by the bustling crowds in its shadow, Dominic thought he’d never seen Calais so busy. As he was buffeted towards the gates, he tried to stop and feel in his pockets for his ticket, and almost knocked over a screaming child. A few minutes earlier, when the queue had been stationary, the same child had been poking his tongue out at anyone who looked his way, and when Dominic had responded with equal rudeness, adding a vicious snarl for good measure, the boy had wailed, hoping to get sympathy from his harassed mother. For some reason, Dominic had been infuriated by this spoiled little brat; even more so when his mother gave in to him. So when the boy’s father appeared and took the situation in hand – giving him a resounding slap across the backside – and peace was restored, Dominic allowed himself a satisfied smile. And made a mental note to keep well out of the boy’s way during the crossing. Finding the ticket, he allowed himself to be jostled up the gangway. But all he could think about was Madeleine, and how she would feel when she discovered what he’d done behind her back.
