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Susan is breastfeeding when the doorbell rings. Not once, but three times. Each time more forcefully.

She curses inwardly, takes Jonah off her chest, who immediately starts to whine. She puts him down on the couch, tightens her blouse and opens the apartment door.

"Yes please?"

"Good afternoon, my name is Robert Hunter, I have an appointment with your husband?" A questioning look. In front of her is a middle-aged man, dark short hair, perfectly shaved. With his raised coat collar, he reminds her of Humphrey Bogart. And this guy, she really likes.

"My husband's not home. But he should be here any minute." And with a glance of the rain swathes: "Come in before you get completely soaked."

He follows her and stops a little uncertainly in the middle of the eat-in kitchen.

"You can hang your coat there." Susan points to the large branch that serves as a coat rack.

Jonah, meanwhile, is screaming. Susan briefly ponders whether to send ...

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