Since March
(Nicola's kitchen in a village in the hills. Rain on the window. Derek has been in the house eleven minutes.)
Derek: You've got no signal in here.
Nicola: We've got a window. Stand near it, like a normal person.
Derek: I'm serious. If I lived here, I'd lose half my clients in a month.
Nicola: If you lived here, you'd have half the clients and a third of the rent. Same money, less shouting.
Derek: That's not how it works.
Nicola: That's exactly how it works. You just don't like saying it out loud.
Derek: The last bus is at six.
Nicola: The last bus is at ten. Has been for years.
Derek: So the bus still exists.
Nicola: It's existed since before you were born, Derek.
Derek: I haven't been on a bus in nine years.
Nicola: I know. You've told me twice since you got here.
(Derek looks out at the rain on the hill.)
Derek: In Manchester I can get a curry at two in the morning.
Nicola: And do you?
Derek: No. But I could.
Nicola: That's your whole argument. You've built a life out of things you could do.
Derek: That's a bit extreme.
Nicola: It's not extreme. It's what you've been saying for six years. And you look worse than you did at Christmas.
Derek: Everyone in the city looks worse. It's the standard face.
Nicola: Here people know what you had for breakfast.
Derek: Exactly. That's a human right, being left alone. Nobody there would notice if I moved out.
Nicola: And yet you've driven an hour to sit in my kitchen.
Nicola: The house next door sold in March, by the way. Three bedrooms, garden, a shed the last man used as an office.
Derek: Mm.
(Derek turns his cup around twice.)
Derek: What did it go for?
Nicola: I'll get the paper. It's been in that drawer since March.