‘Good idea. I’ll stay here until we’re all together again. Then we’ll get on to the coach.’

The holiday had begun. Thea wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to take herself off to a cheapo hotspot for a few days, but realised that if Molly hadn’t frogmarched her on to this tour she would never have upped and left everything. If Molly drove her mad, she comforted herself, she could always latch herself on to an old lady – there were plenty to choose from.

As Thea lay on the bed, watching Molly unpack, she realised that she hadn’t shared a room with another girl since she had been on a school trip, when everyone had just lived out of their rucksacks. Molly made unpacking an art form.

‘Only about a dozen hangers. I don’t suppose you brought any with you, did you?’

‘No,’ said Thea. ‘But twelve hangers should be plenty, shouldn’t it? That’s one each per day.’

Molly sighed. ‘Perhaps I should have got us single rooms. I’ll never get all my things in half this space.’

‘It’s all right, no one …’ She was just about to tell Molly that no one under fifty ever unpacked, when she realised it wasn’t kind. ‘I’ll just drape my things over this chair.’

‘But we’ll need to sit on that while we make up our faces.’

‘Couldn’t we do that in the bathroom? Standing up?’

‘Well, you may be able to, but I need a chair, a magnifying mirror, a good light and a good half-hour. I’m not as young as you are.’

Having used up all the hangers, and put her travel iron, her hairdryer and her heated rollers into the drawers, Molly began to unload her beauty products. These she distributed across the table, having first moved it under the window. This did involve Thea in doing without a bedside cabinet and getting in and out of bed halfway down it, but having lost ground over the wardrobe, she was in a weakened position. Besides, she was fascinated by the number of patent creams and serums that Molly had brought. Molly did look very good for her age and, if it was all those bottles that did it, Thea thought perhaps she should try to upgrade her own beauty routine.

At last Molly was ready. Her many clothes were neatly stacked in the wardrobe. Her underwear was in the chest of drawers. Her bath oil, shower gel, shampoo, conditioner and hairspray were lined up on the shelf in the bathroom. Bags of cotton balls and cotton pads and tissues were hung on all the available hooks, and her special linen cloth for her face was draped over the towel rail.