Chapter 1
Jan 15, 2003
Holly Sutton rolled over and looked at her alarm clock, which was flashing 3:07 am. Sunlight streamed through her blinds. "Bloody hell," she thought to herself, "late again." She jumped out of bed, hastily pulled on a pair of warm pants and a sweater, threw on a wool hat, coat and gloves, and grabbed a large leather satchel from the kitchen floor. She ran out from her apartment, down the stairs and then out the door into the body-bracing freeze of a Montreal morning. Turning around again to fetch a scarf and another sweater, she ran back into the house.
Holly checked her watch and saw that it was 10:30. "No sense in even trying." She plopped her bag down on a kitchen chair, stripped off her coat and began making some coffee.
After a light breakfast, she took the time to fix her hair and makeup and headed out again, this time carefully wrapped to ward off the elements. Holly took a deep breath of air and grimaced as her nostrils stuck to her nose. The bright sunshine reflecting off the snowbanks did cheer her up, and she paused to look up at the sky and the homes on her Westmount street. She strode down the street, not noticing a man in a black parka who ducked quickly behind the corner of a building to avoid being seen.
At the corner of her street, Holly hailed a cab and set off towards Ste-Catherine Street. She got out and headed into one of her favourite department stores, Ogilvy's. "I deserve a little treat," she mused, "otherwise this weather is going to be the death of me. Three winters later, and my body still hasn't adapted". Even though it had been years since she lived there, Holly occasionally missed England, and Ogilvy's reminded her of home. Holly's eyes fell on some store employees dismantling the Christmas window display. Outside, shoppers and downtown workers moved briskly along the sidewalk, save for the parka-clad man, who, hood up and tucked behind a thick scarf, revealed nothing of himself to the world except his eyes. Which were trained on Holly through the window. Holly turned away from the busy workers, but not before getting a strangle warning tingle at the back of her neck. She rolled her eyes at herself and strolled off to the perfume counter.
After a little retail therapy, Holly headed out the back door of Ogilvy's. Crossing through the streets of downtown Montreal, the sun warmed her sprits but certainly not her body. She checked her watch and directed herself towards Leacock, the main Arts building at McGill University. The man in the parka watched as she headed off.