“Right. I should go, I suppose. There’s a lentil bake in my freezer waiting for me to come home.” “You too, eh?” He grinned. “Not that I’d ever hunt lentils, you understand. Take away pizza is more my style.” “I couldn’t. I’d be a blob by the end of the week. Steve McQueen would have to come and put an end to me.” “Steve who?” Winston transferred the mug to the sink. “Is that the guy who collects the money from street vendors? Wears like a green overall and carries a clipboard all the time.” “No. He’s an actor. You know The Magnificent Seven? The Great Escape?” “An actor. White dude, I’m guessing.” “Yes.” “They all look the same to me.” He winked. “You want me to give you a lift home? I’m driving anyway.” “Are you? I didn’t see your car when I got here.” “No. With the builders here I park it over the road. They covered it in cement dust the first day they were here. I mean, why? It’s not like it’s a brilliant car or nothing but cement dust?
