‘Good evening,’ said the barman. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, a black waistcoat and burgundy bow tie. It was a nice hotel.

‘A large glass of dry white, please.’

‘Karene Harper?’ said the man beside her waiting to be served. He had neatly cut dark hair and friendly eyes the colour of copper. His smile was broad as he held her gaze and there was something familiar in it, as if they were old friends.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Do we know each other?’ She was usually good with faces and she was sure she wouldn’t have forgotten his. He wore an open-neck blue shirt that on first look was smart and conservative, but she now noticed the mustard-yellow piping to the cuffs and collar, suggesting a man with a touch of flair in this room of corporate suits.

‘Harry Peterson.’ He held out his hand and smiled again.

The name sounded familiar but she couldn’t place it.

‘You don’t know me,’ he said. ‘I saw you speak last year. At Naval Headquarters? I really enjoyed it.’

‘Well, you were obviously paying attention, Mr Peterson. Because most people call me Karena or Karen.’ She shook his hand. His grip was strong.

‘Harry, please.’

‘Are you in the Navy then?’

‘I am.’

‘And what do you do in there?’

‘Oh, you know, play with ships mainly.’

Karene smiled. ‘I had heard that about you boys. What brings you here?’

The Strategic Business Leadership Conference was aimed at the country’s blue-chip heavy-hitters. And she’d been invited to speak on her specialist subject: the nature and necessity of mental resilience.

‘I’m speaking tomorrow,’ he said.

‘Really? I didn’t notice a Harry on—’ Karene stopped. She had studied the agenda. She always did. It helped to know your competition. And she knew that Harry was derived from Henry. ‘Captain Henry Peterson.’

‘Like I said, Harry is fine.’

The barman slid Karene’s wine towards her. Captain Peterson was known to be something of an enigma in the world of military leadership. He was revered for once ignoring the powers that be to save migrants off the coast of Europe. He had said that no man, woman or child was expendable and that as a nation we had a responsibility to protect lives. Which was quite a statement from a military leader; it was an institution set up primarily to fight and defend.

‘I tried to get an interview with you once for my research,’ she said feeling very self-conscious, like a saleswoman with a naff pitch.

‘I’d be happy to,’ he replied. ‘How about now? I hate these networking things.’

Karene took a sip, not quite believing that she was going to turn this opportunity down. ‘I don’t actually have any ongoing research at the moment. I’m too busy presenting on the last lot. But, thank you, really. Any chance we could take a rain check?’

‘Sure.’