She flung the receiver down and turned to look at the heaving mass of random Spanish people. She tried to think of ways to get money – beg, busk, steal. None of those sounded particularly appealing.
“STICK IT UP!!” Suddenly a man was in her face holding a tea towel threateningly. “Give us 'yer money!!”
“You lost too?” Hannah sympathised.
“MONEY!” The man said a little less angrily.
“Strange how lots of English people come to Rio De Janeiro, lose their money and resort to this.” The man burst into tears.
“I…” He sobbed shakily. “Come from Windsor.”
Hannah hugged him. “There there.” She patted him and then took the towel from him. “Now, let's rob some people.” She swung it into a rope and prepared the wrist flicking action. She tested it out on the man.
“OW!”
“Ok.” She grinned manically. “Let's go.”

“Your money or your arse!” Hannah grabbed a random Spaniard.
“Que?”
THWACK! The man (who had now formally introduced himself as Bill) flicked the towel at the Spanish guy's arse.
“OW! Aye aye aye! Hasta nachos!” He handed over several grubby looking notes.
“Thanks. Now piss off.” Hannah pushed him away. “Beating up foreigners – God, I really AM turning into Jess!”
“Who's Jess?” Asked Bill, handing her half of their spoils.
“She's my friend – the one I'm trying to call.”
“So whereabouts did you lose your husband?”
“Oh…over there somewhere. I'm not really bothered about him.” Hannah took her money. “Who did you lose again?”
“My 6 bodyguards.” Hannah looked at Bill.
“Hang on. Do you usually get called Will…or Wills…or William?”
“Um…sometimes.”
“And do you usually wear a crown?”
“Um…only on weekends.”
“OH MY GOD!”
“Does it change anything?” Bill, now rapidly changing into Will, looked hopeful.
“No.” Hannah said. “If I married you, would I be Queen?”
“Um, maybe not?” Will said, confused as to why they were talking about marriage in a middle of a market street in Rio De Janeiro when this crazy lady was already married.
“Aren't you married already?” Will checked.
“Apparently this ring means yes. But I can't complain – he's a rock star, I should've known better.”
Hannah walked back to the payphone and tried to look for a place to feed the notes into.
“Damn old, non-technologically-advanced machine.” She turned to Will. “Ok, Prince, we need money in the form of coins.”
“Let's buy a chilli sandwich from that woman.” Will pointed.
“You might be a Prince, but you've got street cred.” Hannah bought an extra hot chilli baguette and gave it to Will to eat. “Here's a present.”
“How thoughtful.” Will looked at the sandwich meaningfully then threw it in the bin.
Hannah fed the coins into the phone box.
“Oh…crap.” Hannah looked at the side of the box.
“What?” Asked Will.
“The number's gone.” Hannah inspected the dirt on the glass.
“Are you sure it hasn't just been covered up by more dirt?” Will asked.
“No…it's gone!” Hannah sank to her knees in the dust on the road. “NOOOOOOO! Oh, crap, my jeans.” She stood up and dusted herself down.
“It can't be gone. We only left it a few minutes ago.” Will said encouragingly.
“What would you know?!” Hannah exclaimed. “You're just…the…future King of England…” Hannah trailed off. As she turned around in despair she saw another phone box a few metres away. “A-ha!” She ran off. “It was the wrong box!” She ran over to the box and saw the number still etched in the dirt. “YEY!” She was about to get in when she saw a Spanish guy on the phone.
“Get out.” She demanded.
“Que?”
“Will?” Will snapped to attention (the towel that is).
“Aye Carumba!” The man ran off down the road cradling his arse.
Hannah jumped into the phone box so excitedly that she fell out the other side. Damned absence of glass. Well, suppose it's safer for a rioting city. No political offence. Hannah grabbed the phone – answer phone again.
“Jess? Jess? It's me! Jess? JESS! PICK UP THE GODDAMN PHONE! Oh, Jess, it's me – Hannah! Pick up the phone! Something's happened! Ring me back! I'm on a payphone in Rio De Janeiro!! Quick! I'm running out of money! It's going…it's going…it's gone!” The answer phone clicked off.