Vee nods, starting to laugh at the memory. ‘She looked at me as though I was mad – if she had had tongs she would have taken it with those – so I said, if you tie this round your neck, it will blow in the wind, and people who look at the photograph will understand that it’s windy, and that will explain why your hair might look different to the way it usually does. She looked at the scarf, and at the man holding the hat, as if she was thinking, well, this is not at all what I expected to happen here. And then she tied it round her neck. About two seconds later, the wind blew it up into her face, and I thought, that’s it. She’s going to walk off and I’m going to have to use one of the earlier shots. But she laughed, and she pulled the scarf down, away from her face, and when she let go, the wind pulled it out sideways, and that’s when I took the shot.’

‘So my scarf was trying to strangle Thatcher? And that’s the money shot?’

‘Absolutely,’ Vee says. She had taken a few more photos, for appearances’ sake and to use the rest of the frames on the film, but she’d known that she had it. And then she realises something. ‘I didn’t get it back. She didn’t give the scarf back to me.’

‘Typical bloody Thatcher,’ Leonie says, ‘I’ve always said she’s only out for herself. Bloody cow.’

‘You’d hope for better from a woman,’ Vee laughs back, knowing as she says it that it’s not as simple as that, and that Leonie is about to tell her so.

But all Leonie says is, ‘I told you, you can’t trust the patriarchy. And she’s as much a part of it as every man in the House of Lords.’

Last time Leonie and Vee were together, in the run-up to the election, Vee had, foolishly, attempted to argue that a female PM could only be a good thing, even if she was a Tory. Things has got heated. Leonie doesn’t look as though she has a lot of heat in her today, though.

‘How’s it going with the new book?’ Neither Leonie’s book about women’s lives and sexuality, nor the next – about their relationship with food – have been published. And Leonie keeps writing.

Leonie knocks back her chaser. ‘A publisher I’ve been talking to really likes it.’