It hadn’t gone the way they thought it would go. They’d thought people would want to investigate. That’s what TV told them, and movies, that there would be an angry mob or a new religion, but the undoing was on a slow subconscious level. Greta and Peggy often laughed about how decidedly unlike being in a movie or a film or a book it was. They were there and everyone thought they understood what that meant, and no one wanted a fuss, and everyone just got on with things. But, while everyone else ignored it, Peggy and Greta had to live it. So, they had very little interest in any other intimate relationships. They preferred each other’s company and hanging out with Heidi. Occasionally they’d go out with people they worked with in order to read as less disconcerting when they were at work. Although they had sex with other people when they wanted, it was always quite a pragmatic thing and generally they woke up or rolled over wishing they were at home with the other one. They still had sex with each other but, from the outside, their home life didn’t look overly intimate. They talked but they didn’t share much with each other – there was very little need to talk when they were by themselves. They were no more interested in the other’s day – past a level of politeness they could imitate if other people were around – than they might be interested in hearing about the day of their liver or the hypodermis of their skin. Nor did they have the ability to talk about their separate days. If they tried to explain, it was hard for the other to grasp. It was almost impossible to separate their own day from the one they were being told. It was hard to imagine it. And on imagining it there was a strange wiping of their own day. A lot of their time at home was spent engaged in their own activities. One moving past the other, like basketballers sharing a court with a game of tennis.