“Hang on,” I said, digging into a pocket of the backpack. I pulled out the dress and held it up.

“That’s not skinny jeans,” said Cat dryly.

“No, definitely not skinny jeans.” I hugged the dress to me, remembering Josh’s expression when he saw me in it for the first time. “Josh bought it for me,” I added quietly. When I met Cat’s eyes, her face was unreadable. “What does that look mean? Don’t you like it?”

“Uh, hello, it’s gorgeous. Put it on.” I quickly undressed, stepped into the dress, and pulled the straps up over my shoulders. I turned away from Cat so she could zip it up and when I turned back around, I stood silently chewing on my lip.

“Well, it looks amazing.”

“It does?” I looked down at the dress again. It was long and hugged my body, with slits up both sides, and it was all the colours of a sunset, an ombre of yellow, orange, pink, and red.

“Sez, c’mon, you know it does.”

“But …” I hesitated.

“But, what? You have to wear that dress.” Didn’t she understand that Josh bought me the dress, and I couldn’t wear it on a date with James?

Or could I? While I contemplated my mini moral dilemma, a more pressing thought popped into my head. “Crap. I don’t have any shoes and I can’t wear it to a gallery opening with my sandals—they’re flats.”

“You’re right. We’ll go shopping tomorrow.”

I stepped in front of Cat’s full-length mirror. I really did look good in the dress. “Hair up or down?” I asked, pulling my hair into a loose knot on top of my head.

“Up, definitely.” Cat stood behind me and looked at me in the mirror. “I can help if you like. Oh, and I have an evening bag that will look great with the dress.”

“Oh, thank you, Cat.” Feeling my excitement mount, I threw my arms around her.

“You know,” she said, her voice muffled by my hug, “that evening bag is rather roomy. You can even fit a toothbrush and a clean pair of knickers in it.”

My sister is hilarious.

*

Cat and I had a fantastic weekend. We mooched about Portobello Market, had a tipsy sing-along to an Ed Sheeran cover artist in the local pub, enjoyed a couple of chatty dinners in cheap and cheerful cafés, and when we weren’t out and about, we hung out at Cat’s place solving the problems of the world while downing copious amounts of tea and chocolate digestives.

I met Cat’s bestie, Mich—such a darling—and her lovely flatmate, Jane, who joined us at the pub on Saturday afternoon. Cat’s other flatmate, Alex, had gone to Scotland for a long weekend and I still hadn’t met him. In truth, I was beginning to wonder if he actually existed. Still, with him away, I had three nights of sleeping in a real bed and not on the pull-out. Thank you, Alex, whoever you are!