Lizzy cleaned her glasses to the guitar riffs in Lynrd Skynrd’s Sweet Home Alabama. She’d just heard that Simon had been found dead at home. She’d vacuum the carpets next.
Simon was a loner and she guessed Lockdown had been a bad time for them. He could be a proper arsehole sometimes, but she was secretly glad he and his irritating ilk still got breathing space in this cruel world.
Lizzy called Carole and she said more or less the same thing, but he was small, which somehow made him less of a twat. Then they talked about tweezers.