"So is your lease running out or something?" Rona asked.

"Not for a little while yet" replied Sacha. "But after what I went through last time, just trying to find my current place, I want to start looking for a new place as early as I can." She didn't actually really want to chat: she had the application form for the new flat in front of her and she wanted to fill it out and get it back to the agent A.S.A.P. She'd only called Rona because she thought it would be polite to get her permission before putting her down as a reference; now that she had that permission she wanted to get on with things.

Rona, however, was as always in the mood for conversation: "What do you mean, 'What you went through'? Was it hard?"

"Hard?" Sacha scoffed. "I looked at at least twenty places before I moved in here."

"Really? Wow, that's weird. I think my house was, like, the third or fourth one I looked at or something."

"Lucky you."

"Though I guess I've always made friends easily, I dunno . . . I'm sure there are tonnes of people out there willing to give you a room, though."

"Yesterday I had somebody tell me the place wasn't for me - over the 'phone. They didn't even feel like they needed to meet me."

"Gees, that's a bit harsh! People are weird like that, though. I mean, there are so many places out there, some of 'em are gonna be filled with freaks. You don't wanna live with freaks."

"Thankyou, I know." Sacha tried to write something in one of the boxes on the form, but it was hard with the wind blowing the paper around. She tried to balance the 'phone between her ear and her shoulder, so that she had both hands free, but that was harder. She could always go back inside the real-estate agent's office, instead of perching on a bench out on the footpath, but she hated talking on her 'phone inside buildings, with other people around. This, she supposed sourly as she noticed a suited man stepping into a taxi in loud mid-conversation on his mobile, was what she got for being considerate.

"Sometimes though" said Rona cautiously, "I think you've got a bit of a chip on your shoulder."

"What?" Sacha hadn't even noticed Rona was still talking.

"I mean don't get me wrong, I'm not saying this to be a bitch, but - the world's good enough for you, you know? You don't have to hold it at arm's length all the time."

"I'm sorry, hang on" said Sacha, shutting her eyes and shaking her head and clutching the form to stop it blowing away. "I don't understand what you're talking about." She felt like she'd missed out on some vital passage in the conversation.

"I'm just trying to say: get out there! Keep doing house interviews! Don't move into another shitty flat you're going to end up hating just because you don't want to try getting along with people."

Now Sacha understood what the conversation was about. She blinked, and swallowed. She temporarily forgot about the application form. She hated admitting that she was wrong and somebody else was right.