‘What are you doing?’
‘I want some fresh air.’
‘What if I need to start the car?’
She took a deep breath. ‘Then I’ll shut it.’
On the backseat, Floria started scratching at the bars of her crate. Mark peered into the rear-view mirror and shouted, ‘Shut up now or we’ll leave you behind!’
Emily closed her eyes. ‘Mark, she’s a dog, not a child!’
Once on board, Mark’s temper switched from the dogs to the ferry marshals directing him where to park, how to park, and firing instructions about handbrakes and alarm systems. He yelled at a woman encased entirely in bright orange, spittle flying from his mouth. ‘Don’t be stupid, woman! I’m not leaving my car alarm off for twenty-four hours!’
Emily grabbed his arm. ‘Stop it!’ she hissed. ‘Listen to her. If the movement of the ship sets the alarm off, our battery will be dead by morning.’
He banged his fists on the steering wheel and swore but turned off the alarm and picked up their overnight case. Emily walked behind him to the queue, a dog lead in each hand, stifling a laugh at Mark being pushed and shoved by fellow passengers jostling to reach the lift.
With the dogs tucked into their on-board cages, the Ellises located their own accommodation. Emily inserted the little cardboard key into the lock. The door swung open, and she lurched forward, staring at the 7×12-foot cabin that, according to the ferry company’s website, was supposed to sleep four. She spun around. ‘Compact, darling, and hardly the Venice Simplon-Orient-Express!’
‘Sorry,’ said Mark, ‘scraping the bottom of the barrel. There are better cabins, but you’ve got to book early.’
She stalked into the cabin and threw her bag at one of the bunks.
‘So, now you expect me to slum it because of your poor organizational skills. I may have been sucked into this mess, but I’m dammed if I’m lowering my standards.’
There was a pained expression on his face. Mark chewed his bottom lip, each bite sending a guilty pang through her. ‘I’m not enjoying this any more than you are. I promise you, this is temporary, but we do need to economize.’
The ferry journey was uneventful, and the Bentley was one of the first cars to disembark. They were soon past the outskirts of Santander and into a region of Spain with which Emily was unfamiliar. She gazed at a scattering of cows tucked onto a steep hill as they hurtled past, a flash of black and white against the vibrant green. They burrowed their way through the mountains, down tunnels, some over two miles long, before clawing their way up yet another hill.
They soon reached the Autovía Cantabria–Mesetawhere the landscape changed from rocky escarpments to sparse plains with distant green patches of dense trees. She caught glimpses of little villages clustered in the valleys, a church spire rising from the middle of the bright orange roof tiles, sometimes adjacent to a large factory, sitting like a peculiar medieval manor house overshadowing the village.
Ten miles outside Valladolid, they swapped places.
‘Those bloody dogs honk!’ said Mark.
‘They probably think you stink too.’
She heard his window slide down and felt the rush of warm air. Glancing across, she saw that his head was outside, his thick hair slicked back in the wind. ‘I can’t sit next to this pong,’ he said. ‘When did they last have an effing bath?’
‘Oh, do shut up.’
Emily indicated to overtake a lorry.
‘No!’ Mark screeched. He leaned forward and took an exaggerated look in his wing mirror. ‘Wait. I’ll tell you when it’s safe to pull out.’
‘Pack it in. I can see your wing mirror when you’re not in the way.’ Her tone softened. ‘It’s odd sitting on that side, I mean in the middle of the road, and not driving, isn’t it? I got used to it, but it took a while.’
‘Can’t this dog go somewhere else? I’ve no room for my feet. Shove over, Tosca!’
‘Leave her be. I managed.’
‘My legs are longer than yours.’
Detecting the unmistakable sound of a dog in the early stages of throwing up its breakfast, Emily squirmed in her seat and swallowed her temper, relieved Mark was preoccupied with the footwell skirmish. There was a scrabbling noise on her left, then silence. Emily cocked her ears and held her breath; she could still hear Floria in distress.
‘What the heck is going on back there?’ asked Mark.
She glanced sideways. His head was craned around towards the backseat. ‘Tell me that dog is not being sick. I amnotputting up with the honk of dog sick six inches behind me.’
