She leant forward, whispered, “I’ve had refurbishments done.” Mike frowned, thought of kitchen cupboards. Then she claimed ownership of something mystifying. He imagined a Carnival-clad pool boy, an unfamiliar breed of cat, a domesticated capybara (improbable).
She disappeared to the Ladies’. He took out his smartphone, entered the search and opened an image. It took a moment to work out what he was looking at.
“Whatcha doing, sweetie?” said Bree, leaning over his shoulder.