Lola is possibly the most beautiful woman in the world. This is not good for Rick's composure. Lola is married, American, in Britain for a year while her husband finishes his postgrad work. She's like a filled-out Audrey Hepburn: leggy, brunette, confident, jolly. And given to wearing skin-tight black leggings.
Clients call to see how their work is progressing. Lola gives them coffee. They stay all afternoon, in gradually increasing numbers, flicking ash. Rick's boss hangs mournfully over Lola, reminiscing about his days in a rock band. He gives Rick basilisk stares and asks why he doesn't have any work to do.
After a drunken lunch, Bollocks (an amateur rugby player) actually stuck his hand up Lola's skirt. Rick threw him out. Lola chuckled at him. "I don't need you to look after me."
Anybody else would politely but firmly see all of them out of his room. Rick has to get up at 6.00 am to catch the train from Petersborough and is seriously wondering if it's worth it. He yawns and retreats into a quiet snooze.