Frances slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Robyn, who was sleeping deeply, her mouth slightly open, air sputtering between her lips, not quite a snore. Frances had been nearly asleep but was jolted awake at the recollection of a comment Rita had made earlier that evening. “You know what makes me laugh?” Rita said. She was in a mood after two guys who’d polished off a couple of pints dashed out, leaving their bill unpaid. Fuckers.
“No,” Frances answered. She was busy stacking ashtrays under the bar, trying to avoid the storm.
“The way your little friend is working on my old man. You might warn her to watch herself.” Rita shook her head. “She must think I’m blind.” Then she laughed, meanly. “She must think she’s the first.”
“Robyn’s just a little over the top,” Frances said.
“You co
