Our group of three girls and two boys were having a council of war on the train. We were on our way to London to meet our project client. Hopefully, this meeting would clear up the project brief once and for all. The fuzziness of our task was starting to worry us all.

“I hate to change the topic,” Toria said, during a break in the intense conversation. “I just wanted to ask if Gina or Joan have some hand cream.” She looked at her hands, dissatisfied.

“Sorry, no,” said Gina.

“Me neither,” I replied. “…Maybe you should ask the boys?”

Dom laughed. “No way!”

“Chris?” Toria peered questioningly over the train seat.

Chris was silent for a few moments. “Actually, yes…” he said at last, reaching into his black messenger bag.

We laughed incredulously. “Huh?”

“I’m going to Copenhagen after the meeting!” Chris protested. “It was in my toiletries bag.”