Peggy and Greta wanted to stay sober. Wanted to stay sober more than they wanted their old life back. Their old life had been rape and beatings, and drinking had stopped helping, stopped working – completely. The people they knew from rehab who had started drinking again told them that some people could drink, and that was true, and Peggy and Greta and Dell tried not to have an opinion about whether Heidi was one of those people, but they all knew to their core, just right now, that none of them could drink safely again. Every now and then a thought would sneak in, but when they talked about it they could see what their mind was up to. So, they decided not to have a drink just for now. Just now they wouldn’t have a drink, and now, and now, and now, and then it was another day and today it was ten months and three weeks and two days.

‘Well, we’re going to have tom yum,’ Greta said. Peggy nodded.

‘Cool,’ Dell said. ‘Have a good time.’ Dell was way chiller than Peggy and Greta. It was like she knew more, or understood more, or was older. It was one of the things they stayed up late talking about. Maybe it was Carol. Maybe the whole ‘treat yourself like your own best friend’ thing made Dell feel like she had everything she needed. That there was no need to be sad, or angry, or anxious. Maybe it was easier to accept baked beans on toast for dinner when you were looking after yourself well.

Greta and Peggy fought everything. Everyone said, ‘Let go.’ Anything Peggy and Greta let go of had teeth marks in it. They laughed about that as they walked down the street. The heavy dusk was falling in. It felt like they were walking underwater. It was all so heavy.

‘It’s so dark,’ Peggy said.

Greta nodded. She was kicking a stone in an obsessed way like their life depended on it. The road they lived on was busy. Where were people going? It was five o’clock on a Sunday.

‘Dark,’ Peggy said.

‘Yeah,’ Greta said.