Anne had barely opened the door when Lindy’s cat snaked around her ankles.
“Hungry, eh?”
After filling the cat’s bowl and cleaning its litter tray, Anne washed her hands, coveting, not for the first time, her friend’s gorgeous bathroom.
On her way out, she browsed the bookshelf. She spotted White Teeth.
Following a pang of nostalgia came her utter certainty that this was the very copy she’d loaned Lindy decades ago!
Momentarily, she slipped the book into her bag.
She saw the cat watching her.
“I’m not stealing; it’s mine,” she insisted, before leaving the apartment, her cheeks aflame.
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