‘Let’s do that, then. And if we get caught, I’m sure we can get the jail sentence commuted to a few psychiatric sessions after we tell the story of our lifetime of psychological abuse,’ a slightly inebriated Emerald reasoned.

‘Yes, we’d be out of prison in three or four years and then there’d be a bidding war among the TV networks for our exclusive interview,’ I conjectured, lightheartedly.

‘Ruby, you could give it to her. I mean, if you get caught, it’s not as though they can give you a life sentence, right?’ Emerald concluded, matter-of-factly.

‘Emerald!’ Amber sobered suddenly. ‘You know that we don’t talk about . . .’ She chose her words carefully, eyebrows emphatically raised, ‘Kev.’

I jolted awake. Kev? I thought, startled. Who’s Kev? I had a vague recollection that it was someone I should be worried about. Then it hit me like a falling grand piano. I’d completely forgotten about my fake cancer. Now would be the time to confess all and set my siblings straight. This very second. Now. NOW!

‘I . . . I . . . I . . .’ If ever I’m a contestant on Mastermind, prevarication will be my specialist subject. It wasn’t that I was still waiting for a spine donor. No, it was really just that I had something more important to admit and didn’t want to get sidetracked. One bombshell at a time, I rationalised through a fog of champagne.

‘Oh, Ruby, I know you don’t want to talk about that thing we’re not talking about,’ Amber said, softly, ‘but I just want you to know how much I love you. And that you’re our priority. Isn’t she, Emerald?’

‘Bloody oath. When we get home, whatever you need, Ruby, your sisters will be there for you.’

‘Um, that is so, so lovely, girls. I can’t tell you how touched I am. Only . . .’ I took a deep breath and then stepped out into the emotional minefield. ‘I’m not going home.’

I might as well have thrown a firecracker onto the home stretch of the Melbourne Cup. Both my sisters spun their heads in unison to look at me.

‘What?’ asked Emerald.

‘What?’ echoed Amber.

‘I’ve fallen in love.’

‘What?’ Emerald said again.

‘What?’ echoed Amber.

My sisters now cocked their heads to the side. It brought back memories of the backyard synchronised swim team we’d pretended to be part of as kids, and in the lagoon the other day – only I was clearly out of sync. Shock had rendered the loquacious Ryan girls momentarily monosyllabic. For a few seconds, we broiled away in our bubbly, chlorinated cauldron in complete silence, till Emerald blurted, ‘Who with?’

‘With whom?’ amended Amber, on autopilot.