Outside, Falls said:

‘I don’t think they mention that in the training manual?’

Andrews smiled, said:

‘Was I being over-zealous?’

‘Girl, you were magnificent.’

Andrews was pleased with the praise. When Falls suggested they have a coffee, she felt she was on her way to being accepted. They went to a small cafe, got some locals staring at them till Falls stared back. A waitress came over, asked:

‘Ladies, what can I get you?’

Falls said:

‘Two large coffees and the stickiest, most calorie-laden buns you have.’

‘Would you like cream on the coffee?’

Falls looked at Andrews who grinned from ear to ear. Falls said:

‘Bring it on, pile on that sucker.’

Falls rooted in her bag, took out a pack of cigs, offered one.

Andrews was tempted, said:

‘I quit a while ago.’

Falls lit up, said:

‘Trust me, you’ll be smoking again. This is the kind of job nicotine was designed for.’

The coffee came, laden with cream, and the buns were almost obscene in their richness. Falls took a spoon, scooped a dollop of cream and put it in her mouth. She made a face of simulated orgasm, went:

‘Oh… oh… that’s the spot… oh yes… oh my God, the earth is moving.’

Andrews got the giggles and then shovelled a spoon herself. A man in a suit was taking a dim view and glared at them. Andrews signalled him to Falls who ignored him. Then they got stuck into the buns and were like two kids, their faces a riot of cream and sticky bun. The man had had enough, marched over, said:

‘This is scandalous! I mean, you’re supposed to be representing the status quo. I want your names and numbers.’

He actually took out a slim red notebook and a flash gold pen, prepared to take the details. Falls drank some coffee, wiped her mouth delicately with a tissue then fixed her gaze on him, asked: