‘This last one’s the biggest.’ Nora unlocks number 4. ‘It’s eight foot by ten, shower’s three foot by two. Go ahead, take a look.’ She sweeps back the shower curtain and gives the slab of greenish soap stuck to the tiled floor a kick with the toe of her sneaker before standing aside for me to pass. Very quickly, however, it becomes apparent that there is insufficient room for me to do so, thus with a tango of infinite grace and elegance, we both withdraw, advance and side-step until a clear view of the hellhole duly presents itself.

‘Nice,’ I comment.

‘It’s fifty-eight dollars twenty for two.’ Nora stands, feet apart, hands on hips.

‘Fifty-eight twenty. Wow.’ I hedge a little longer, not wanting her to think I’m wasting her time. ‘How did you arrive at that figure, I mean how did you decide on the twenty cents?’

‘Tax.’

‘Right, of course. So how much for one person?’

‘Fifty-eight dollars twenty.’

‘That seems awfully unfair.’

‘So git yourself a partner.’ She locks up the bungalow, then heads back up the slope. ‘Wanna beer?’ she throws over her shoulder.

Inside the bar, she plucks a beer from a crate on the floor and tosses it over. ‘Shut the door, will ya.’ She sits down at the table and gathers the plates of food towards her with both arms. I’m not a big beer drinker, especially at eleven a.m. in the morning, but I snap the can open and take a swig, unsure whether or not I’ve been officially discharged.

‘You were at the meeting last night, weren’t you?’ I venture.

Nora’s mouth opens like a trap door to receive a cold onion ring. ‘Folks round here are ignorant and mean.’ She chews methodically. ‘They’ll crap over anybody to keep themselves out of the dirt.’ The next onion ring isn’t large enough to necessitate the heavy artillery of her teeth. Nora swallows it whole and washes it down with beer. ‘It’ll come back on ‘em, though.’ She shoots me a look. ‘Sit down, why don’t ya? You ain’t here for a room so what do you want?’

I slide into the booth. On the plate in front of me the remains of the steak have run aground in a black pond of stagnant blood.

‘Well you probably won’t believe it, but I was after a haircut.’ I haul the M&M menu from my pocket and smooth it out on the table.

The sight of it provokes a snort from Nora. She grabs her beer and sucks noisily at the glass, then clears her throat and tweaks a small amount of escaped mucus from her nose.