‘Um, instant’s fine,’ she called back. A sudden thought occurred to her. ‘Should we be shouting?’ she asked, lowering her voice a bit just i... case. ‘Huh?’ Alice popped her head back in. ‘Oh, the apartment thing. No, it’s fine. We’re in a corner unit on the top floor, and the guy who lives downstairs works nights. So long as I’m not playing loud music at two in the afternoon, it’s all good.’ She ducked back into the kitchen and Cynthia heard the reassuring sound of spoons rattling against cups.. It smelled mostly of incense—sandalwood, he recognized it but couldn’t remember the name at first—but with definite grace notes of weed. A sagging little sofa was covered with quilts. There was a big orange beanbag chair. A coffee table made from a pine plank atop two plastic Taylor’s Dairy milk crates. A framed poster of a bygone Grateful Dead Fillmore show. There was what looked to be a vintage stereo system, two big speakers angled in the room’s two back corners. A formidable looking Marantz. More

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