They knew how to answer the question. It had worn off over the years – the oddness of them. There had been no more of them, and people had had over a decade to get used to the small number of them who were still around. The general population had perfected its blindness to the women who had divided. No one would say anything – not out loud – but Peggy and Greta and all the others knew this was a privilege rather than a right. It was contingent on them behaving in certain ways. All of them were acute studies in how to not be disturbing.

So, without ever speaking to anyone about it, not even each other, Peggy and Greta knew that Dorrit, along with anyone else who asked the question, wanted to know what they had been ‘up to’ within strict limits. Generally, people wanted to know: what they did for work, where they lived and whether they had a partner or any children. It was okay, perhaps, to tell someone about specific hobbies – if those hobbies filled a particular space in their lives and were light or whimsical. The question was, of course, completely performative in the end because Dorrit, like everyone else, knew they were trying to keep two people alive on one person’s wages, which meant they rented a cheap, run-down flat and that on the whole the only people they had sex with were each other. But no one talked about it. Peggy and Greta were pretty sure that deep down inside Dorrit knew they knew she understood these things, but the question was asked like a step in a process of politeness that was part of the way everyone was able to not see it. Like how someone seeing double might close one eye in order to see one of something rather than two.

‘Same old, same old,’ said Peggy.

‘How about you?’ Greta said.

‘Oh.’ Dorrit looked up, trying to look like someone trying to work out what to say. ‘I got married.’ She held out her hand which had a wedding ring on. ‘I’ve got three kids.’

‘Cool,’ Greta said.

‘Wow,’ Peggy said.

‘And I work for this insurance company now. That’s why I’m up here.’

‘Awesome,’ Greta said.

‘Yeah,’ Dorrit said.

Then they stood in silence until Greta, to stop it getting awkward, said, ‘Three kids. Awesome.’ And they all smiled and shook their heads slowly.

‘So good to see you,’ Dorrit said.

‘So good,’ said Peggy, and they said goodbye and see you around sometime and got on with their shopping.

Peggy and Greta chose a chocolate coffee roll filled with mock cream. It was in a hard plastic container so they could carry it to dinner and then the meeting.

‘Do they have candles?’ Greta said when they were in the checkout line. ‘At the meeting?’

‘Yeah,’ Peggy said. ‘Surely.’