Norman scurried up to his sister's front door breathless and flushed, his trouser cuffs flapping against his shins. He was met with an open front door and a perfunctory peck on the cheek.

"Oh!! thank goodness. She's not here yet? Good. Well, not good; I mean good that I am not late. Sorry. Spotted Helmi Järvinen out of Ostend, and I wanted to check if she had that new mast. They haven't repainted her either. I lost track of time." His sentence was laboured as he forced out the words.  Not that his sister actually cared.