Cairo saw two figures emerge from the trees as the car sped down the long drive away from the house. She instantly recognised the huge shape of Mr Underhill, the lifeless body of Kelvin Bright slung over his shoulder like a cricket jersey, and a plastic shopping bag containing a heavy-looking round thing in his other hand. She turned, knees on the car seat and waved to him, shouting,
“Sorry I didn't have time to say goodbye!” He smiled at her and nodded. The other figure was a man equally as tall as Mr Underhill but only half his stature; he walked beside him holding his left shoulder as if it hurt.
“Von Vohberg.” Eve hissed his name. Cairo turned to her mother, smiling,
“Is he a friend of yours mother? He looks like a proper gentleman.” Cairo asked as the sped along the gravel.
“No, he's no friend. I knew his father.”
“Oh...” Cairo turned back to her mother, “...Are you sure you're okay? After all, you were shot in the head.”
“I'm fine...” Eve grinned, “...I've got a very hard head, and it was only a graze.” Cairo smiled and looked at the road ahead,
“Where are we going to go?”
“Abroad. Away from this dull, grubby island.”
“Where though? Hollywood?” Eve couldn't hold in a snort of laughter,
“Hollywood! Oh daughter you are so-” She stopped herself. Cairo smiled, so happy she had been called 'daughter'. Eve smiled back and put out a hand to stroke her cheek.
“We're going to France. Paris in fact, but first we have to drive to Dover where we can catch a ferry.”