Rita

In the margin

There is a smell to a canal house in a long wet spell and everyone who lives along this water knows it. Rita does not fight the building; she warms the part of it that matters and leaves the rest of it alone. Towels on the radiator, the bottle standing in hot water, her hands warmed before anything else, and only at that point does the hour properly open. Italian and English, quick in both. At twenty-seven she is clear that a guest who is still cold cannot be worked on to any purpose, and she will spend ten minutes putting that right first.

Rita decides which bookings she takes and may decline any of them; she sets the limits for what a session includes, says what they are, and may end a visit at any point, as the terms set out.