Mary Flaherty had arrived at Livia’s at 11am sharp. Having opened the electric gates for her to come in, Livia had gone straightaway to open her front door in welcome. She was surprised at Mary’s car. It was a basic Eastern European car - the butt of silly jokes twenty years before. And it was at least 10 years old - not what you’d expect a successful villain’s wife to drive.
After a tentative handshake, Mary said “I know what you’re tinking. What’s with the shitty old car? Well I wouldn’t want to feckin’ stand out, would I?”
Livia immediately liked her.