In the pool our eyes don’t meet at first, but through occasional glances, it is clear she recognises me as someone who’ll be a good listener.
“So what do you think I do for a living?” she asks after a few requisite niceties.
I hazard a guess – “HR”.
“How do you know – HOW DO YOU KNOW?” She turns to her husband, astonished, as if he had somehow prompted me.
“And who do you think I work for?” I’m clueless.
She is triumphant. “The Place, The Place!“
“The Place? The Place where?” I ask.
“THE PAHLACE THE PAHLACE” she almost screams, at me.
Only then do I recognise through her rasping Northern Irish accent that.. she works for the cops!
