After that, she’d chosen two people with good jobs and a sensible attitude to life to share with, pretending she agreed with them. Which she didn’t. But dull people were much safer when it came to paying up and they pulled their weight in the house, as well. Her mother had trained her too well. Andi couldn’t live in a pigsty, or even a semi-pigsty, had been horrified at how some people lived when she first moved out of home.

Ross was back already. She could see the light under his bedroom door when she went up to change out of her work clothes, and hear his radio going, some boring talk show. What a nerd he was! Hardly ever went out and spent most of his time playing with his computer.

She went into the kitchen and got down the jar of housekeeping money. After counting out what was owed to her, she began to put the meal together. She’d have to ask her mum for some more recipes. Her flatmates were complaining about too much pasta and Bolognese sauce. Well, they’d have to put up with it today. It was all she could think of and it was easy to make. At least she’d bought a lettuce to go with it. You couldn’t get much greener than that!

She’d be forced to stay in tonight. Not only was she short of money till payday, but no one had asked her out on a date for ages. Most of her girlfriends had started going steady in the past few months. They were fools. They’d end up with bellies full of babies, slaving after their families, worrying about their mortgages. Andi wasn’t going down that track. No way. Though she did like kids, especially the little ones. How could you not? But you could give other people’s kids back again, which you couldn’t with your own.

Anyway, she’d made some new friends lately, who were good fun to go out with, if a trifle expensive. And they’d introduced her to a club where the music was excellent and the drinks quite cheap, considering.

Maybe she’d go round to visit her mother tonight. It was only a few stops away on the Underground. She could usually count on bringing back a chunk of home-made cake these days, which would do for tomorrow’s lunch. She didn’t share her mum’s cakes with her flatmates; they were too good to waste on others.

Thank goodness she could eat what she liked and didn’t have a weight problem like her mum, who was fat by today’s standards. It was no use Mum talking about that old film star Marilyn Monroe. People knew better these days than to let themselves put on any weight. Andi had suggested dieting, but her mum didn’t care what size she was, didn’t seem to care about anything except her stupid books.

On that thought, Andi picked up her mobile and dialled. ‘Hi, Mum. How’s the writing going?’ She listened to the news of her mother’s latest book sales, studying her nail varnish as she did so, then when a suitable amount of chit-chat had been got through, asked, ‘Can I come round to see you tonight?’