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Wrapped up tight against the cold with a facemask on to keep out the smoke and ash, Vicky sat on the balcony of the flat Sam had claimed for himself on the floor below the others. The apartment itself was underwhelming – small, one bedroom, a little damp – but the view east was spectacular, despite the fading light. One of the Canary Wharf towers had collapsed in the last couple of hours, and now the flames were ripping through its nearest neighbours.
‘Here you go,’ Sam said, handing her a mug of coffee. He took a selection of chocolate bars from his jacket pockets and dumped them on a small table between the two seats, then sat down. ‘So, where do we start? It’s only been about a month, but it feels like forever since I last saw you.’
Vicky pulled her mask down so she could talk. Sh
