‘I’ll say no one expected her to turn up like that. Like, she wasn’t even writing in the group chat when we were discussing our outfits. Like, I knew what the other girls were wearing. I mean, she looked gooood. A little much maybe? Catwoman-type thing, quite classic, but that V drop down the front, I don’t know. I mean, don’t forget this is someone else’s hen-do. If I were Alanna, I would’ve been a bit pissed about it. But she said thank God she’d put in the effort and she would expect no less from her maid of honour. She’s properly nice, you know, Alanna? Proper angel.’

‘I mean, all Emmy’s saying, right, is that we weren’t going to a strip club.’

‘I honestly was so proud of her. I thought she was going to wear these tailored trousers she’d texted me about. The girls get protective but personally I want my maid of honour to look her best. Ruth was doing mighty fine. No chance of her stealing my scene anyway, or that’s what I thought. Although making out with the bartender was a bit cheeky, wasn’t it? That was funny!’

‘Well, I can’t say I know her very well. She doesn’t really come here for lunch with the others, only alone in the morning. Packed-lunch-type of girl. She comes in early though, before work, and she always looks half asleep. She stands next to the hot water dispenser. Sometimes I have to call her several times to hand her the cup. She takes her coffee black. Lots of sugar.’

‘In the afternoon, I make us all coffee. She takes no milk, but I stir some into her cup anyway, for protein, then I pretend that I’ve made a mistake. I say, “Don’t you dare get rid of it, it’s perfectly good coffee.” I watch her as she drinks it.’

⋆

‘Listen, no one liked him anyway. What does it even matter? It could’ve been any day. That man had lived everything that he had to live.’

‘Me and her go way back, you know? We’ve got history.’

‘I’d love to take her with me to the piano bar. I’d buy her a stiff drink and we could have a game of pool with the soldiers. I fancy a little Martini, extra dry. A little toast to no one else but us: independent women. But I’m never allowed to go to the piano bar in this stupid hotel, Constable.’