‘Good for you, mate,’ Meagan said.

‘Actually, I have to say thanks to you guys,’ Jemima continued. ‘You’ve inspired my writing.’

‘Wow,’ said Simi, beaming.

‘How so?’ Meagan asked.

‘I mean, you gave me ideas about who Beverly is…’ said Jemima.

‘Well as long as you don’t do a Troy on us,’ said Meagan nudging her.

‘Course,’ said Jemima, draining her drink and going back to her painting.

‘Jem’s not like that,’ said Simi as she trotted back to her roller tray.

Meagan bristled at the thought of Troy, remembering the time she’d been stupid enough to open up about her dad’s bankruptcy, about the day the bailiffs had taken their things, moving through the house like locusts. She’d quipped that the only thing she’d been bothered about was her Xbox but they’d taken it anyway. And after sharing all that privately, Troy had stolen it, neatly weaving it into a new routine she performed the following evening. An Anderson Shelter couldn’t protect Troy from Meagan’s wrath when she had found out.

‘But you know, sometimes you absorb information,’ mumbled Jemima almost to herself.

‘It’s okay,’ said Meagan, ‘we’ll just kill you and you can explain afterwards.’

‘That’s not funny!’ said Simi, waving her roller at Meagan.

‘Oh relax, Sim. I’m not gonna kill anyone – just horribly maim them.’ Meagan winked.

Simi frowned at her, rubbing her rose quartz in Meagan’s direction. Before she could respond, her mobile rang. Meagan pulled it from her overalls trying not to get paint fingerprints on it. She looked at the screen and withered. It was Todd. Again. She pocketed the phone, letting the call go through to voicemail but just as she picked up her brush, it started ringing again.

‘Allow it, Todd!’ she cursed.

This had to stop. What was wrong with him? No level of hotness could excuse this behaviour.

‘Something happened?’ Jemima asked.

‘Yeah, I’ve got myself a stalker,’ said Meagan.

Simi looked away and carried on painting. ‘Maybe he just really likes you,’ she offered.

And that was lovely, thought Meagan, but too much. What weirdo would call after receiving a photo of her out with another guy?

‘It’s getting on my wick,’ she said dragging her brush back and forth over the wall.

‘It’s been four years. No wonder he’s got attached,’ said Jemima.

‘Why? I haven’t.’

‘You and Todd have lasted longer than any of my relationships,’ said Simi.

Meagan let her brush drop down, ‘There is no “me and Todd”. There’s just me and then this whole other weirdo that won’t quit.’

‘Wouldn’t it be funny if you ended up together, you know, like married,’ said Simi.

Typical, Meagan simmered. In Simi’s mind, life was all church bells and bouquets.

‘Todd is NOT marriage material. He’s not even boyfriend material. If there weren’t laws about street sex, I wouldn’t have even set foot in his flat. I’d be doing yoga poses with him in that alley,’ said Meagan pointing out of the window.

‘Downward dogging?’ said Jemima.