He kisses the laughter right off her lips, fumbling the button of her skirt because he's pushing it up at the same time. But then-

'There's supposed to be bubbles.'

Where's the 'on' switch? He stretches over her to look...then swears in Gaelic, and pulls a lighter, his cigarettes, and a wad of sodden bank notes out of his trouser pocket.

'Bollocks.'

Oh well. He tosses it all over the edge, and finds the button to get the jets going.