Paula shook her head.

‘Well, whatever. Stay with me as long as you want.’

‘Thanks. I was an idiot. I should’ve brought some clothes with me.’

‘Borrow mine,’ Anita said.

When they were younger, Paula, Stacey and Anita had often shared clothes. Anita flashed on the image of the three of them, seventeen or eighteen years old, standing in front of her wardrobe, flicking through coat-hangers, chucking things on the bed to consider them in the light. Stacey was more voluptuous than the other two, even as a teenager, but she knew how to pick out the right borrowed garment that would still somehow fit her lavish breasts and hips. She was always coaxing the others to try different clothing combinations, whooping with laughter when a fashion ensemble proved to be tragic or gushing in her Barry White drawl about how sexy they looked.

Anita blockaded that memory of Stacey in all her fleshly life force. Instead, she fixed her eyes on the road and bunged on a hearty tone as she said to Paula: ‘I’ve got plenty of I’m-a-doctor clothes you can borrow. We can make the sizes work, even if I’ve packed on a little bit of weight.’

‘Thanks,’ said Paula. ‘Oh, but underwear …’

‘Yeah, I guess you’ll want your own undies. Broadway Kmart?’

The late-opening Kmart was so fluoro-bright it made Anita squint and the conditioned air was desiccated and chilly. A handful of people wandered the aisles, most of them on solo shopping missions. Who would choose to come here at ten o’clock on a Tuesday night? Maybe shiftworkers, restless individuals, shoppers who hated crowds, or people whose routine had been thrown off course by some sudden, unspeakable event.

Walking through the store, Anita felt disconnected from her body, apart from some faint nausea and a hollow sensation in the belly—the way she would feel at two a.m., prowling Dubai airport halfway through a long-haul flight.

Paula chose a three-pack of underpants and grabbed a couple of bras.

‘Do you need to try the bras on?’ Anita asked.

Paula shook her head. ‘I’ll take a chance.’

Anita realised that the process of going into a fitting room cubicle, undressing and dressing again was beyond Paula right now.

Paula sank even more deeply into a slumped silence as Anita drove to Newtown, parked in her underground spot and took them up in the lift.