Liv said it out loud. Although the words might be meant for a book, she felt the author was referring to the Constellation Prize. She pictured Essie writing the words on the note. “Hank is really sorry, Essie,” she said aloud. “Everything is nearly at an end.”

Essie tossed her black bob. “Humph,” she said.

Liv’s eyes settled on the bee-shaped cuff links sitting on the desk. It was obvious they didn’t belong to Hank, so how did they fit into everything? Why would Essie push them under her pillow before she went in hospital?

Her brain was too stuffed from writing to think about it further.

She left the apartment early and headed into the city to buy new swimming shorts for Johnny, and Katrina’s gift. Her limbs were sluggish and she came across a designer shop called Pooliversity. The items in the window display looked more like dental floss rather than swimwear. Tiny price labels displayed huge prices.

“Three hundred pounds for a straw bag?” her mum’s voice appeared in her head. “Has it been hand woven by fairies?”

Liv was too tired to search around the city for somewhere else. When she entered the shop there were more dried starfishes on display than there were swimsuits. The changing rooms had driftwood doors and looked like beach huts. Picking up a silk sarong, she broke into a coughing fit when she saw its price tag.

A man wearing white shorts, a coral necklace and a name badge that said Randall, appeared and whisked the sarong out of her hands. He did the same when she found a pair of navy shorts for Johnny, and a striped Machiavelli beach bag for Katrina. “You have such good taste. I’ll pop them in the changing room,” he said before Liv could check the prices.

Too embarrassed to leave, she admired a Machiavelli swimsuit that shimmered green and silver like a mermaid. Randall appeared at her shoulder once more, like an unwanted genie. “Stunning isn’t it? So darling.” He dabbed a finger along a nearby half-empty rail. “I think we have the larger size for you, babe,” he said with a wink.

By the time Liv made it into the changing rooms, she had more things on hooks than were in the shop. She kept on her underwear and wriggled into the swimsuit. It held her in all the places that needed nipping, and gave her the streamlined shape she hadn’t seen since Mack and Johnny arrived and reconfigured her body.

“How are you getting on?” Randall cooed through the driftwood slats.

Liv jumped around and covered herself with her hands. “It’s beautiful, but I’d need a second mortgage to...”

He interrupted with a well-rehearsed spiel. “Machiavelli is a new brand, so chic. The costume will see you through autumn and into next spring, too. You’d only spend the same on a nice meal.”