The joke is one that flies over her understanding, and she gives a short dip of her head, her expression unchanging. Cleaning cloths and sprays had been left by where he stands on the table beside him, and she steps next to them, taking out the bottles, and reading their labelling.

"To what job would you like them to take? Do you prefer fabrics, or tables?"

Tables, or sofas? Because everyone cleans the booth chairs when they clean the standard coach, right.