Prelude 1 - Early December 2005, upstairs in the front bedroom, St Margarets, Southwest London

It’s 5 in the morning and I am still awake, sitting up in bed, on my mobile listening to the rising hysteria in the voice of one of my lawyers still in the office, and reading my blackberry at the same time. I’m so tired I can’t see straight - if this deal doesn’t sign tomorrow (actually, that’s today) I may qualify for disability due to early-onset blindness. There’s truly some comfort in that and it seems a better option than being locked away for client-and-opposing-counsel homicide which is the likely alternative.

It’s cold and dark outside and in London in the winter the light won’t appear till at least 9:30 and the cold won’t change at all. Horizontal rain may start to fall later to add an extra dimension.

I’m emotionally wrecked and single and knackered and hungry and there are no clean clothes in the house.

I’m focusing on the champagne at the end.