The chair reads the agent's email out over the kettle and does the maths on the back of a flyer. 'Five of us, so a fifth each,' she says, and everyone laughs and nobody opens the draft attached to it. Your hand went up with the other four before anybody read a word of it. Bez was the first of those hands, reading glasses already on. He is seventy one and has rented all his life. The agent has addressed the whole thing to two individuals rather than to the group, which nobody remarks on.
Two Names on the Lease