"Well, isn't that the way to live, like a courting couple in the middle of all the potions and the bottles." Lilian laughed. "Hello Hellen, and there isn't a pick on you this year as well." Maura was a plump woman like her sister, bustling and enthusiastic, a great golfer.
She worked for a horse trainer and it had been said that she had hopes of him. The hope had not materialised. Maura must be forty now, but always cheerful and full of activity. They pulled up the two tall chair that Martin McMahon kept for customers to use, and an ashtray was produced as both Lilian and Maura smoked the GoldFlakes, waving them around as they gestrued or exclaimed at whatever was being said.
Martin noticed Helen back away a little from the smoke. "Will I open the door a bit?" he suggested. She gave him a grateful look.
"You'll freeze us all to death, Martin."
"It's just that Helen's a bit.. " he was protective.
"Aren't you well?" Lilian was sympathetic.
"I'm fine, just a bit nauseous today, I don't know why."
"Would it be the oldest reason in the book, do you think? Lilian was arch.
Helen looked at her levelly. "I don't think so." she said with a faint smile.
She stood in the street, gulping the cold air. It was chilly even for the end of October, and there was a mist coming up from the lake. Still, it brought more colour to her cheeks.
"Listen, we called because we're going to treat ourselves to lunch at the Central. Ah come on, Helen. It's early closing day - Peter'll come down too, to make an occasion out of it. You will come, won't you?"
Helen looked at her husband. A few moments ago, he had been pleading that he had hundreds of things to do. He couldn't take the time off on early closing day to be alone with her. And yet now there was the chance of an outing with a group, he was obviously dying to go.