Alina closed her eyes. The first day she saw Harry was the last day she saw her mother. Their boat had capsized and they had clung to each other in the cold water, her mother singing songs in her ear. By the time they were lifted from the sea, the singing had stopped and Alina had been desperately fighting to keep her mother’s head above the waves. In the helicopter a man and a woman fought to bring her mother back as Alina begged and pleaded. When they landed on the ship her mother was rushed inside and that’s when Harry came to stand beside her. He held his helmet in one hand. That’s how she knew he’d been flying the helicopter. He asked if she was hurt or feeling unwell and then, when the man who had been helping her mother stepped out on to the ship’s deck, Harry moved into her eyeline. ‘I’m sorry,’ he had said.

Alina opened her eyes. The rest of the memory was a blur. She knew the doctor had spoken to her but had no recollection of what he had said. Only later did she discover her mother had perished as a result of a heart attack, probably brought on by the effort of trying to keep afloat and warm in the water.

She didn’t blame the doctors, nor did she feel any ill-will towards the men who had taken her mother’s money and promised to give them safe passage on an inadequate boat. They were only providing a service desperately wanted by people like her. Mother had said the journey was dangerous but not as dangerous as staying.

Alina Maree blamed only one person: the man who had stripped Naomi Maree of every dignity, the man who had beaten and raped her, the man who had eventually turned his attention to Alina. Antony Bello.

56

Late on Friday morning, Jameson sat on the table adjacent to Harry in the coffee shop by Portsmouth and Southsea station. Karene was there too, as were Harry’s teenage children. They’d been talking for nearly an hour and Jameson had noticed nothing amiss. No one appeared to be watching them or lingering nearby. The traffic in and out of the cafe was fairly constant. The only other people sitting inside were a group of teenage girls and an elderly man with a large suitcase who was reading The Times. An old friend of Jameson’s sat in the small car park outside, also watching and ready to react.