BEST BOY

‘Not so warm today, is it?’ she said walking into the laundry, carrying a square plastic washing up bowl out of which, when she reached the extractor and pushed its lid aside, she took a blue wet cloth, probably a towel, my glance was cursory to avoid embarrassment, which she, with one flowing movement, put into the extractor closed the lid and pressed the ‘on’ button.
‘It’s supposed to be hotter later,’ I said.
‘In the afternoon?’
‘Twenty-seven, or is that Wednesday…or tomorrow?’ I said. ‘Tomorrow is Wednesday,’ mostly to myself…
‘They said it’s going to drop to twenty on Friday,’ she said, ‘which is a bit easier.’
‘That’s true, it’s a bit hot for me the way it’s been,’ getting personal.
She sat leaned against the extractor, facing me.
‘We had the most uncomfortable experience yesterday at the cinema,’ she said. ‘We went for a preview, it was free so we thought we’d go…’
‘…at the new one in the Circus?’ pointing in the general direction.
‘No, at the Odeon, yeah?’
‘Yes, I know it.’
‘Anyway, it was a preview, the gangster film just out, oh, what’s it called, “Dillinger”? or it’s about him…’
‘…the one with Johnny Depp?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I loved it, a really good film. But there’s no air-conditioning in there so we were sweating all the way through and at the end everyone got up and left without even waiting to see who’s the best boy.’