Livia’s lunch with Marcia was an altogether different and more relaxed affair. It may have been that Marcia was in some way fulfilled. Living in a smart house in a ‘nice area’, she didn’t have to do much except what she wanted. What she wanted included a couple of men now and then, neither of whom was Tony, who kept his distance, and one of whom, Franco, was more ‘now’ than ‘then’, a very frequent visitor to check the kitchen he’d fitted... after-sale servicing.
In the local Moroccan restaurant, Livia asked Marcia how she was.
“I’m having a ball!”