‘Could I take your secretary’s number? So I know how to get in touch?’ Karene hated doing this but if she didn’t it would never happen.

Captain Henry Peterson took out his wallet, removed a business card and then asked the barman for a pen. He wrote a mobile number on the back along with a single word, Harry.

The conference organizer walked towards them. He was a short man probably in his sixties with white hair and a thick moustache to match.

‘Good evening, Sir,’ he said to Harry. ‘We’re so pleased to have you here. I have arranged for you to join the VIPs for dinner tonight. They’re very excited to meet you.’ The man glanced in Karene’s direction and clearly saw nothing of interest. ‘Would you like to come with me now?’ he asked.

‘Is Ms Harper on the VIP table too?’

The conference organizer frowned and looked at Karene again. ‘Oh, hello,’ he said. ‘Karen, isn’t it?’

She nodded half-heartedly. ‘Nice to meet you at last,’ she said. She went to shake his hand but he’d already turned back to Harry.

‘Karen, you’ll be on a table with our other speakers. Table six, if I’m not mistaken. It’ll be a good opportunity for you to find out how today has gone from those who have already presented.’

‘Sounds lovely,’ said Karene with her nicest smile.

‘I think that would be useful for me too,’ said Harry. ‘I’m not the most experienced presenter.’ But his protests were in vain. The conference organizer insisted that Harry join the VIPs.

‘Sorry,’ he said as he was led to his special table. A moment later he turned back. ‘Save me,’ he mouthed.

Karene smiled. She liked him.

The presenters on table six were typically extroverted, which made for a night of competing stories and anecdotes. Karene hadn’t laughed so hard with a group of strangers for a long time, so she didn’t think about Harry again until he joined her at the breakfast buffet table the next morning.

‘Thanks for coming to my aid,’ said Harry as he filled his bowl with bran flakes.

‘I expect you’re rarely in need of anyone’s help.’ She filled her bowl with yogurt then topped it with granola. ‘Was it really that bad?’

‘I always imagined life would be easier with a bit of power and influence but, you know what, it’s just dinner with sycophants and self-centred bores.’ They moved along the tables until they reached the drinks section. Harry gestured for Karene to go first and she chose an Americano from the machine then added fresh milk as he selected his own coffee. ‘Where are you sitting?’

‘Over by the window.’ She pointed to the table where she’d hung her suit jacket over the chair.