"The girl?" The bartender gestured vaguely toward the back booths. "She's been waiting. Doesn't look like she belongs here. Too much light in her eyes."
"You're late, Harry," she said, her voice a soft contrast to the abrasive roar of the pub.
Harry stood, his coat hanging heavy on his frame. He walked toward the shadows where Birgitta sat. She was his guide to this upside-down world, a place where the sun burned too bright and the secrets buried in the Outback had a way of crawling into the city streets.
"Another one, mate?" the bartender asked, wiping a glass with a rag that hadn't seen soap in a week. Harry shook his head. "I'm meeting someone."