London, the day before Anna dies
Harry wakes to the muffled sound of his phone ringing. He is covered in sweat; the sound of the radio bleeds into the shift in consciousness from sleep to wakefulness as he sits up in the living area of the boat.
Pulling himself upright, he feels around for the phone which is vibrating somewhere beneath him on the sofa where he had fallen into a fretful doze that afternoon. Instantly he thinks of Maria.
Prising the phone from between two pillows, the name on the handset fills him with a rush of hope followed by fear. Why is she calling him now? It will be to offer him work, he reminds himself, reaching for calm. And he couldn’t be more in need of a job – both for the money and the distraction it will provide.
He doesn’t let himself think any further. Whatever it is that she wants, she will know where to find him.
Inhaling, resetting himself, Harry presses answer.
‘Hey, Madeleine … How’s things?’