In the bathroom they stood next to each other and brushed their teeth. Every now and then stopping and touching something on their own face. Still exactly the same faces, weakening, wrinkling in time with each other. They had to share everything. Sometimes people said they shouldn’t have to. Sometimes people said they should be allowed separate tax numbers and bank accounts, but nobody said it for very long because there were only a few of the women – it had never happened again – and they were getting older and it affected almost no one else. So, anyone who said it quickly forgot about it. Peggy and Greta were fine with the sharing, it made people more comfortable and that made their lives easier. That’s the story they told themselves. If it had happened again, if there were newer ones or richer ones then maybe there would have been a movement, but even though they waited (not every day, not desperately) there was only the handful of them, and they were easy to forget about. They were almost invisible. Every now and then people would stare but even that didn’t last long. People put it down to a trick of the light, or tiredness. On the whole and most of the time, the two of them read as one – just like all of them did. Generally, they were okay.

Peggy and Greta spat out the toothpaste and rinsed their toothbrushes one after the other. They put on make-up and jackets, one helping the other with an arm that was inside out. Each of them had a handbag now because they each had a phone they carried everywhere. It was the same number, but they’d been able to get two SIM cards. They’d lied about losing one and the shop had given them a replacement. They checked their phones were in their bags, looked around the flat and turned on the light so it would be bright when they got home, and left.

They were twelve years sober today. They’d get tom yum then go to a meeting. The tom yum in the new city wasn’t as good as the tom yum in the city they’d got sober in. It didn’t taste quite as good when you didn’t have to go through every pocket for enough change. It was okay though. On their way to tom yum, they’d pick up a cake at the supermarket to share with everyone at the meeting, to say thanks. A lot had changed, and a lot had stayed the same.

They got a text as they walked to the supermarket. Both their phones vibrated at the same time and they got them out and read the text. It was from Heidi. See you at tom yum. Happy Birthday XX.