‘Look, if you’re that bothered about those files and books, you should have said one time when you were home.’

Home. The word still presents itself, ludicrously. I am thirty-five years away. ‘Away’ rather than ‘old’, that’s how it feels sometimes.

I shake my head. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘Let’s have a gin.’

‘It’s very early. We should watch it.’

‘I have a very good relationship with all intoxicants,’ she says. ‘Much healthier than any human relationship I’ve ever had. I’ve never had a comedown I couldn’t handle. Never had a hangover I couldn’t talk myself through.’

‘Good for you. They finish me off for days, now. I obviously didn’t inherit that resilience from you.’

She daubs bronzer up her cheeks. I pass her a gin and sip delicately from the other glass.

‘Are you almost ready?’ I say. ‘I don’t want to be late.’

‘What – don’t tell me you’re ready? Are you just going like that?’

‘As you see.’

‘You seem … agitated, darling. Are you agitated?’

‘Maybe a little. It’s understandable, don’t you think?’

‘Well, drink up. Good girl. Now, why don’t you let me lend you something to wear.’

‘Because I am two sizes bigger than you. Why do you think we have the same bodies? We haven’t been the same size for a long time now. Why are you labouring under this delusion? God, this is strong.’

‘It’s medicinal. We should have two. You could wear a belt.’

‘I like what I’m wearing!’

‘Want me to do your make-up?’

‘No, thank you.’

‘You should look good.’

‘I do look good.’

‘You could look better.’

‘The last time you did my make-up I looked like the Babadook.’

‘It was a smoky eye!’

‘I didn’t ask for a smoky eye! Who wants a goddamn smoky eye? It’s not 1996.’

‘It’s a classic look.’

‘I am not classic, I am modern.’ I say: ‘I am so modern it hurts.’

She says, ‘Even though you don’t want to be with Art, it is important you look better than you have ever looked in your life before.’

‘That is just a disgusting terrible cliché, and you should know it.’

‘That may be true, but I’m sure Suzy is going to be making an effort.’

Once, when I was comparing myself to a dark-eyed friend, my mother said: There are some people who can wake up in the morning and look good and you are not one of those people, Jenny, but when you do yourself up you’re as good-looking as anyone.

I sit down at the dresser. ‘Okay,’ I say, ‘but if you over-smoke me I’m not going at all.’

‘Fine. Now, don’t smile.’