"So," said Daisy. "That's what makes me think Marsha and Brian are sleeping together."

"What?" Tim said, looking up from a book. "Sorry, I wasn't listening. What makes you think that?"

Daisy had been talking for fifteen minutes. She'd outlined several well-reasoned pieces of evidence that would have stood up in a court of law and easily passed the test of 'beyond a reasonable doubt.' She shrugged.

"Women's intuition."

"Yeah, me too," Tim said. He went back to his book. Daisy sighed and looked around the small branch library. She'd come here to do research, but Tim had done all the reading. Clearly he was doing this just to annoy her.

"I think we should get some more furniture for the flat," Daisy said. Tim looked up and frowned.

"Why? It's furnished."

"It should be... more furnished. We should go to Ikea this weekend." He was giving her that look again, the one where he looked at her like she was an alien. No, not an alien, he'd look at her in a more friendly way if she was an alien. "That's what people do, when they move into a flat together. They go to Ikea and buy stuff and make the place... theirs."

"That's what couples do." Tim snapped the words. Ah, Daisy realised, that's what him and her must have done. "And I never liked Ikea." Tim went on. "Load of overrated crap."

"All right, there's no need to get all Ikea-ist about it."

Tim muttered something about flat packs and buried his nose in the book again. After a few minutes he looked up. Daisy stopped doodling in her notebook.

"I suppose we could use another bookcase," Tim said.

"We could! Us both being such bookworms."

"Er... yeah. Just... not Ikea."

"I understand," she said, with a sympathetic nod. "That was your place."