The outfit I was trying to buy was for Alice. The summons had arrived; I would see her Friday. Today was Thursday. I had taken both days off, much to Oliver’s surprise. It was satisfying to use up some leave. The more I had banked, the more uneasy it made me—all those empty days stacking up, waiting to be filled.

My phone rang, but I couldn’t reach it. I sat there listening as it went to voicemail, sweat beading my lip.

When clothes became important, going shopping used to mean nicking. I went with Em to Swindon on the bus. It was best to wait till the shops were about to close and the staff had their eyes on the clock.

“You ready?”

“Yup.”

I went in first. Flicking glances at the security guards, drawing the eye with my curled lip, boots, and shifty truculent look.

“Can I help you?” The sales assistant fixed me with a stare and bared her teeth.

“Just browsing.”

In the corner of my eye, I saw Em moving swiftly toward the lingerie section, a small, polite smile on her face. I ducked half out of sight behind a pillar clutching a couple of tops. The sales assistant shared a meaningful nod with the security guard.

Em would have to find the right sizes: 34B for her, 34D for me, plus the knickers. I grabbed up a few more items, hanging them over my arm and heading toward the changing rooms.

“No more than six, Madam.”

Turning, I glimpsed Em making for the exit. I waited till she was safely through, then dumped my haul on the desk.

“I won’t bother then.”

Later on, we’d glory over the spoils back in Em’s bedroom, swigging from a bottle of whatever we’d managed to get our hands on. Diamond White. Cooking sherry. Mad Dog 20/20. There was a certain amount of necessity to my thieving. Em did it for me, to be close to me.

I missed her again. I missed her all afresh. If she had lived, what would she have become? An artist like she hoped, an art teacher like she expected? I saw her in a plastic apron leading the potato painting. I saw her with kids of her own.

Fuck! The dress tore loudly. I got it off, panting, and threw on the next one, stumbling out into the shared space with the big mirrors. Not a teenage face anymore, not a teenage body.