“Hello?”
*
When they asked her about that phone call a few hours later, with a mug of unpleasantly sweet tea in her hands, she would explain that it sounded as if the person on the other end had a mouth full of fog, heavy and swollen.
It made her feel like she was back in the water.
“What did they say, Helen?”
She sighed, scratching at the faded artwork on the mug with her thumbnail, a souvenir from a long ago holiday. “I told you. It was a bad line.”
“And you didn’t recognise the number?”
A dry swallow. “No.”
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