Jamie turns and disappears into the crowd. Archer feels her mood lightening as she watches him go.

She leaves the busy Genius Bar with her new device, satisfied that she is one step closer to having a working phone. At the exit she sees Jamie under the arches outside, holding two large take-out cups with steam billowing from them.

‘One tea, piping hot,’ he says, handing it across.

‘When you said soon, you really meant it,’ smiles Archer.

‘I thought it best not to waste time.’

Archer takes the tea. ‘Thank you.’

She cradles her hot drink as they casually navigate the tourists and shoppers of Covent Garden market, but something feels wrong. The hairs on her neck rise and she catches a breath. Out of the corner of her eye she sees a figure lurking, watching. She turns her head and through the layers of people sees someone pointing a mobile phone in her direction. Archer shudders. Is he photographing her? The constant flow of people makes it impossible to confirm the man’s appearance.

‘By the way, how is Jake?’ asks Jamie.

Jamie’s question distracts her for the briefest of moments and in that time the person holding the phone, whoever it is, vanishes into the crowd. Archer scans the throng but there is no one looking her way.

‘Grace, are you OK?’

Archer looks at Jamie with a tight smile. ‘Sorry, I thought I saw someone.’

Jamie frowns and looks into the crowd.

‘It’s OK,’ says Archer, ‘perhaps I imagined it. I’m sorry, that was rude of me. You were asking about Grandad. He was sleeping this morning when I called. Doing fine, thankfully. I’m going to see him as soon as I can get some time off work.’

‘Glad to hear it. He’s quite a character.’

‘I really appreciate you helping him out the other day.’

‘My pleasure. Do you hear that?’

Archer listens and hears a violin intro to an operatic aria.

‘I love this aria. Come with me,’ he says beckoning her to follow.

‘I really ought to get back to work.’

‘Just a few moments of your time. You’ll love it. I promise!’

Archer relents and allows Jamie to herd her inside the market and a balcony overlooking the basement where a tall, slender woman in a red woollen overcoat holds her elbows delicately and protectively.

She starts to sing.

Archer doesn’t know much about opera but she does know this woman is a soprano. Her voice is hypnotic and for a brief moment Archer loses herself in the music.

‘“Casta Diva” is a beautiful aria,’ Jamie tells her. ‘Norma the Druid High Priestess has fallen in love with a Roman soldier. The druids will not be happy, apparently.’

‘She’s sleeping with the enemy?’

‘It would seem so.’

Archer finishes the last of the tea, savouring the warm sustenance that spreads through her cold body. ‘I should get back to work.’