Consequences

 

Thirty minutes later the taxi pulled up outside the departures terminal. As the driver unloaded the bags, Harry fumbled in his wallet. He handed over notes worth twenty pence more than the fare and cheerily muttered, “Keep the change”. He didn’t notice the face of the driver, who looked as if he’d just been handed a rat pellet rather than a tip.

Harry and Molly spent a minute pulling retractable handles out of their luggage and then wheeled the procession of brightly colored cases through the sliding doors into the airport.

“Wait a minute,” said Harry, stopping in the middle of the concourse. “I think I left my sunglasses in the taxi?”

“They were on your head.”

“Yes, but I put them away when we went through that tunnel.” They turned towards the entrance; the taxi had gone.





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