While Rona was enjoying the early stages of her date, Hannah - having finished her search for food - was once more lying on the floor of her house, the palm of her hand resting on the 'phone, wishing it to ring or for herself to call somebody else on it. Either way, it seemed like an uphill battle. Her housemate worked nights and slept days and that suited Hannah just fine: she couldn't be bothered these days trying to get on with her. Hannah had the house to herself - for now: before long, she knew, there'd be a furtive knock on the door, and duly she'd would drag herself off the floor to answer it - and there would be Janine, a cleanskin bottle of red in her hand and a kiss on her lips. Hannah never invited Janine around: Janine invited herself. It was as inevitable as the thin fog of marijuana smoke that now hung in the air of Hannah's sitting-room. Getting stoned didn't help her cope with Janine, necessarily, but at least it made the minutes 'til she came around seem longer.

Hannah tried calling Sacha - her number was programmed into the 'phone - but Sacha wasn't answering. Typical, thought Hannah wearily. She placed her hand over her eyes and experimented with holding it there and removing it, giggling inexplicably at the way the light sprung into life and disappeared: on and off, on and off.

She could do it for hours - but she didn't. Her hand finally fell flat over her face. She'd never felt so bored - what was that French word? God damn it, she thought, I never used to be like this.

There was a knock on the door: tap. Tap-tap. Hannah sighed extravagantly: the sigh seemed so loud to her that she was certain Janine must have heard it outside. She lay on the floor, her hand still over her eyes, for what seemed like twenty, thirty minutes - surely long enough for Janine to give up? And yet when she got up (because there was nothing else to be done) and walked to the door (it took for ever) and opened it, there she was: wine, lips. Her girlfriend.

Janine sniffed the air after she stepped inside the house and kissed Hannah, who turned her mouth away and presented her cheek instead - "I've got a cold" she lied, "I'd hate to get you sick". The smell of marijuana was still pungent inside the house, even though the joint had burned down long ago. "Smells like the party's started without me!" grinned Janine. Hannah didn't answer, she just shrugged noncommittally. Anything she said would be insincere - which she didn't mind so much, except that it would be mistaken for sincerity by Janine. Janine was like that.

"So I've heard of this new club" said Janine, her eyes wide with excitement. "Just opened."

Hannah shook her head. "I'm really tired" she said. It was sort of true: she didn't feel like going out and doing anything, certainly. "Why don't you go? Have a good time! Kiss some girls for me!" She laughed, and it sounded distant and metallic to her ears.

Janine frowned. "Without you? What -" she smiled "- are you trying to get rid of me, or something?" She leaned forward to tickle Hannah teasingly. "Eh? Eh?"

Hannah wrenched herself free sharply. "Don't tickle me" she said, "I don't like it."

"Oh baby, I'm sorry!" Janine's hands softened, and she hugged Hannah with genuine remorse. The hug was worse than the tickling.