“You are,” she said proudly. “It takes me less than an hour to do this place.”
Noah smirked at Tito, who threw a grape at him. He received a swat over the head from Marge for his trouble.
“You can pick that up too.”
To Noah amazement, Tito hopped off the stool and retrieved the errant fruit.
“I was going to,” he said sulkily.
Noah and Jonas were loving the appearance of Marge. He suspected that the club had fully briefed her. Tito had gone through three cleaners since September, and it was only mid-January. They’d clearly decided to bring the big guns in.
“I might get a lift with you into Manchester,” Tito said, putting the grape in the bin. “I’m in the mood to spend some money.”
“Carmine is coming here actually.”
Noah braced for impact. He’d kept this quiet, knowing full well his neighbour and teammate would make a big deal out of it.
Judging by the expression on Tito’s face as he got back onto his stool, Noah had been absolutely right.
“A cheeky business meeting for two at home is it?” Tito said. “How cosy.”
“Leave the lad alone,” Marge said as she wiped the kitchen work surface.
Tito watched him intently. It felt as if the evil eye of Mordor had him in its gaze.
“Can’t you go and annoy Jonas?” Noah asked.
“He’s otherwise engaged.”
They shared a meaningful glance. Jonas was in a secret relationship with Brockton’s captain, Adam. They wanted to keep it well under the media radar.
“He’s never at home,” Marge said. “There’s only one thing that keeps a man from his own bed like that. Sex.”
She said the last word and wrinkled her nose.
“Doesn’t Mr Marge get his conjugal rights, Marge?” Tito asked.
Marge approached Tito, who had the decency to seem scared.
“Mr Marge never slept in his own bed again once he got into mine. That’s how I know.”
Noah and Tito burst out laughing.
“Good work, Marge,” Tito said. “I never doubted you for a second.”
She shoved him playfully.
“You are too cheeky for your own good, Tito Lopes.”
Noah glanced at the clock. It was quarter past one. Carmine would be arriving at half past, and he needed this emerging comedy act out of his house.
“I think that’s good for today, Marge,” he said.
“I understand,” she replied with a twinkle in her eye.
“Don’t you start.”
“Come on, Marge,” Tito said, slinging his arm around her shoulder. “We won’t stay where we’re not wanted. I can talk to you while you’re shampooing the curtains or whatever.”
