Kat was sitting bolt upright, glaring at her. Eleanor stared back in disbelief. It occurred to her that if she had needed reminders of why they didn’t see more of each other, Kat could not have been doing a better job. A long time ago, her sister had simply stopped liking her, Eleanor reflected bleakly. It was the only explanation. The sole wonder was her own difficulty in accepting the fact.

‘Judging me,’ Kat snapped. ‘Bossing me. Like you think you have some sort of right. Because of… well, just because you’re older.’

‘I never think like that.’

‘For your information – not that it is any of your business – Howard and I respect each other’s privacy. We give each other space. That’s one of the reasons I married him. He lets me be, unlike most other people I’ve come across… like Nick Wharton, for example. Oh my god, the man was such a limpet – it’s all coming back to me.’ Suddenly she was snorting with laughter. ‘Mr Clingy… aagh… no wonder I was horrible to him.’ She rolled her face into the beanbag, pretending to chew the fabric.

‘Why don’t you leave him alone then?’ Eleanor asked quietly.

Kat stopped her rolling and sat up. ‘Because not replying might just seem rude. And where’s the harm?’

For a moment Eleanor imagined picking up the computer keyboard and hurling it across the room. She pictured the dummy falling, its robes of lilac flapping like a giant bird, pins pinging in showers of silver rain. But it would upset Kat again and that would be bad. The kimono had fallen slightly open, affording a clearer view of the outline of the bandaging thickening her sister’s slim waist. ‘You are right,’ she conceded softly, quickly looking away, ‘so let’s get on with it. Where were we?’

‘Hi Nick, I think.’ Kat plucked at a thread on her gown. ‘You’re just so serious sometimes, Ellie. It can drag people down. And you’re not to be too clever for this, okay? I’ll suggest stuff and you phrase it nicely. But the letter’s from me, remember, the muggins who scraped five GCSEs, not the bright star who went to Oxford.’

Ten minutes later, Eleanor read out the completed version, a wholly collaborative effort apart from the exclamation marks, which she had scattered liberally, telling herself that writers with sick, spoilt, bafflingly manipulative little sisters had to get their kicks where they could.

Hi Nick,

What a surprise to hear from you after so much time! It was great to get all your news of what sounds like the most wonderful life. I have never been to Cape Town but know of the famous Table Mountain, of course. How incredible to wake up to that every morning!