That's a made up name if Maeve has ever heard one, but she doesn't say as much, only tilts her head and surveys his hand for a second before she reaches out to shake. He's big and gruff and probably exactly the sort of man her mum would have gotten all starry-eyed over. Exactly the kind of man she was never going to get, instead finding herself with pathetic men like Maeve's dad, wherever the hell he got off to.

"Maeve Wiley," she answers with a smile and a shrug at the comment about the papers. "Getting paid to give the entire community college GPA a boost sounds like a good time to me. And I'm not from London, I'm from Moordale. I wish I was from London. Probably something interesting happened at least once a week in an actual city."

Nothing interesting really ever happened in Moordale. People were small minded in small towns.