"Oh about twenty years or so. Got a nice price for all that rubbish you keep up in your flat."

Once retrieved, Chloe sets to work straightening out her jacket. She takes her time with it for much the same reason why Charlie's spinning that cane of his; pushing her way through a crowd? No thank you. She's old enough to wait five minutes for a peaceful exit.

And once the old lady in front of her has taken her leave, Chloe props her boots up against the back of the seat. Digging her heels into the cushion feels better than it ought to.

"Like you wouldn't believe, mate."