‘Mam will say yes, go, get out of here.’ Tara chuckles before becoming more serious. ‘But she’s not in great form lately; she’s tired all the time. I don’t want to put pressure on her. I’ll wait until Dad gets home from his chess club and I’ll ask them both together.’

‘Fine,’ I say, lifting my jacket from Tara’s bed.

‘Where are you going?’ she says.

‘Home.’

‘God, no, you better be here when I tell them. Dad will freak when he hears I’m leaving. He won’t be as bad if you’re here.’

My eyes fall on the collage of photographs dressing the frame on the mirror. A history of our friendship since the day we met. On one side, I see a photo of us making our confirmation. I’m in a pink coat, with a cream hat that has a big pink bow at the side and looks ridiculous on me. I’m a good few inches shorter than Tara, who’s holding her hand in mine. We’re both smiling for the camera.

Further on down the frame and the two of us have become a lot more precious with our smiles. We’re standing apart from one another, staring straight ahead like we’re in a line-up. Thankfully the ‘too cool to care’ phase didn’t last long because in every other photo, whether at school or getting ready for the local disco, we’re wrapped around each other, laughing and smiling. I sometimes find it hard to remember when Tara wasn’t in my life.

The light is dimming now, casting a shadow over Tara’s face. She switches on the small lamp and we continue to make plans.

‘I’ll get a part-time job… Oh, I can’t believe this is happening, Faye! I can’t believe we’re leaving home.’

‘Can you imagine the parties we’ll have?’

Tara stands and moves over to where I’m sitting on her bed. Her eyes open wide in anticipation of what our new journey will entail. Her hand is shaking as she hands me the hairbrush and sits down beside me. ‘God I’m sick with excitement,’ she says, turning her porcelain-skinned face away so I can brush her long shiny hair that I’ve always wished was mine. The image in the mirror resembles a perfectly created doll but Tara never seems to notice how beautiful she is.

‘I won’t be doing this every night when we’re living together, ya know.’

‘You won’t have to, Faye. Next week I’m getting it all cut into a bob. New beginnings, new hairstyle.’

‘What?’ I’m about to tell Tara she’s mad when I hear the front door closing. ‘Is that your dad?’