"I've told him, if he does come back then we'll have a contract in writing about what happens to the property. If I play my cards right I'm sure I'll get my new kitchen out of it. You remember the one I showed in the catalogue? "
She leans back, absorbing the sense of victory.
"The all-white counter tops with the built-in stove? I mean the least he can do if he's coming back is finally do something around the place. It's a tip. The whole house will have to be re-decorated, and that's a promise."
She leans back. She wants a fag. A white Kleenex is wrapped around her thumb, in case she starts to cry. "Oh God," she says in despair. "I'm sure I'm being too nice again." She looks into her companion's eyes, then at her silver fingernails.
"I'm sure you're not," says Marina, tartly.
What?
Waterloo.