An old man who cannot throw things away, and a cleaner from an agency paid to tidy up. Both of them have things to hide, or rather that have been hidden. And there are people who want to find things. And there is Renata, an agoraphobic drag queen. Not quite a recipe for things going well, except the reading of it which is a breeze. Impossible to put down.
The waiter brings the coffee over. Gabriel looks pained by the interruption. He runs a hand over his thinning hair, as if checking it's still there, a quick frisk. Then he fiddles with the sugar bowl until the waiter walks away again.
He lowers his voice. 'I need to find something, in the house'.
'Oh yes?' I sound disinterested.
His top lip is becoming wetter; he dabs at it with a paper napkin. 'Nothing of any material worth, only sentimental value.'