I am sitting in a café, drinking coffee with my friends.
“The milk’s cold”, says Millie.
Barry rolls his eyes.
“Look, I did my best. Getting the espresso machine to work flattened my battery.”
“The coffee’s great, Barry.” I try to sound placatory. “I haven’t had any for weeks. Not since…”
I shrug. There’s no need to finish the sentence.
“I’ve been busy.” Barry sounds defensive. Keeping him on an even keel is a full time job, and it’s not as if there’s nothing else to do.
Millie makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and a ‘hm’, which is as close as she gets to concession.
We finish our coffee in silence, help ourselves to as many packets as we can carry and return to the desolate streets to see what else there is to scrounge.