‘We support our sisters. And sharing the knowledge is sharing the power. The education we get is through the patriarchy. Don’t feel bad. Because . . . ?’ Leonie tilts an eyebrow.

‘Because feeling bad is an expectation placed on women, and it comes from outdated patriarchal notions of society?’

‘Right on, sister.’ Leonie has finished her bacon sandwich, and pulls a French Fancy from the box. ‘Fen moved out a couple of weeks ago. Do you want to move in?’

Vee has imagined what it would be like to be Leonie’s flatmate. Or her sister. Or, once – she doesn’t know what got into her – her girlfriend. ‘I’d love to!’ If being with a woman who knows all the ways the world needs to change could be Vee’s life, she would be ecstatic. And she’d be part of the fight. Properly, in the middle of it. But – ‘What’s the rent?’

Leonie shrugs. ‘Just pay your half of the bills.’

‘But that’s – do you mean that?’

‘Sure.’ Leonie grins. ‘That’s what I do. It’s a family place. My folks bought it when they used to live in Norwich. For when they were in London. Then they moved to London and bought a house, but they kept this.’

Vee nods as though people owning flats in cities they might visit is as everyday as Leonie makes it sound. ‘I’d love to,’ she says again.

And then the phone rings. Leonie goes to the hall to answer it and, after a brief conversation, comes back into the kitchen, face tight, running a hand through her hair, ‘Still got film in your camera?’

‘Always. Why?’

‘We need to get over to Jo’s. Kiki just arrived. Her husband cut up rough when she got back last night.’

‘Kiki’s husband? I thought he was OK. She said he was cool with her doing this.’ Not that it’s up to him, of course.

‘So did she.’ Leonie is pulling on her boots, the DMs Vee covets (although she’s not sure she could carry them off). ‘Seems he was horny when she got back. She said she didn’t want it but he took it anyway. Jo’s going to see about finding her a place to stay. I’m going to write her account. You can take photos of the damage. She’s got cuts on her face and bruises on her thighs and her wrists.’

Vee swallows bile. Kiki is a kind of wonder-woman to her: clever, sparky, bright. The thought of her being hurt is almost too much. But, women help women and this is something useful she can do. ‘Has anyone called the police?’

Leonie hesitates for long enough to look straight at Vee. ‘Kiki’s married. He hasn’t done anything wrong, legally.’

‘Right.’ Except of course it’s not right. ‘I’ll need to go back in a couple of days. When the bruises have come out more.’