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stitch you choose. There are more stitches than you think: marking cross-stitch, long-armed, tied cross, upright, double, even ermine. In fact, you can cross any old stitch if you know how.’
    Charmaine nodded absently, noting the gaps under the windows where the frames had dropped, frowning at the wedge of daylightstreaming in under the kitchen door. ‘Drafty,’ she said. ‘You must get cold in the winter.’
    â€˜Not really,’ Margery said and pointed to the gas heater in the fireplace.
    â€˜These old places don’t have insulation. You must get hot in summer.’
    â€˜I’ve got the ceiling fan.’ Margery placed a serviette in front of Charmaine, pointed to the teapots and teacups cross-stitched on its edges and said, ‘Linen, no pattern, see how even it is? And small. I can’t do them that small anymore.’ She put her thick gasses on the kitchen table, sighing.
    Charmaine looked up at the fan in the lounge room and pointed her biro at the hole in the ceiling. ‘I bet the roof leaks.’
    â€˜I catch it in a bucket. Tip it on my geranium bush.’
    â€˜It’ll cost at least ten thousand dollars to have the house painted. When was the last time you had it done?’
    â€˜Lance, my husband, said his parents painted it, but that was before I came to live here.’
    â€˜The roof needs replacing and the house needs restumping.’ Charmaine opened her clipboard and removed a piece of paper.
    â€˜I’m very comfortable in my home,’ Margery said, circling her arm to indicate her cross-stitch cocoon.
    â€˜You’ll need to spend a hundred thousand dollars to renovate.’
    â€˜As I say, you can start your duties as soon as you like, but we’ll start with how to make a pot of tea properly.’
    â€˜I’m not actually the maid; I’m here to assess the house.’ She placed the sheet of paper in front of Margery.
    â€˜Are you from the ACAT team?’
    â€˜No.’ Then Charmaine became very crisp. ‘In its current state it’s an eyesore, especially now they’re rebuilding next door. You could ask the builders for a quote for repairs, which will be substantial, or , you won’t have to worry about anything like that if you sign this piece of paper.’ She handed Margery a biro and pointed with her glossy fingernail to the dotted line. ‘Just sign here, Mrs Blandon.’
    Margery tried to pull the paper closer, but Charmaine held it fast with her spearhead finger. Her hair was very short, Margery thought, far too short for someone with such hard features.
    â€˜I’ll keep it to read then post it to you,’ Margery said.
    â€˜It’s very straightforward,’ Charmaine said, standing over her.
    â€˜I’d just feel better if I read it closely,’ Margery said, and sipped her tea.
    Charmaine sat down again and looked at her watch. ‘I’ll wait.’
    Margery reached for her reading glasses but they were missing. ‘I put them on the table,’ she said. ‘You haven’t picked them up by mistake, have you?
    Charmaine said, ‘There’s the dotted line there, see?’
    â€˜I need my glasses.’
    â€˜Just sign it.’
    â€˜I have to speak to Walter first.’
    â€˜No you don’t.’
    â€˜Yes I do.’
    â€˜Do not.’
    â€˜Do so.’ Margery sat on her hands. She’d had enough of smiling, fragrant estate agents telling her they’d do her a favour by selling her home from under her.
    â€˜The new maid will be here soon,’ she said.
    Charmaine held a biro up to Margery’s face. Next door, the excavator roared and timber clattered, glass shattered and the ceiling above the women vibrated. Charmaine rolled her eyes towards the demolition sounds, ‘Out with the old and in with the new.’ Fine black ceiling dust fell, powdering her pink cotton shoulders.
    Margery said, ‘I’m happy to sit here