‘Can I just say, you are looking so well, Minnie. All this swimming you’re doing clearly suits you,’ said Bev.

‘That’s nice of you to say, Bev. You’re looking lovely too.’

‘Don’t you love August? The warmth in the air, the flowers in the park. London looks so beautiful at this time of year,’ Bev said, taking a loud inhale.

‘Bev, you’re sounding very upbeat,’ said Leila, reaching out to squeeze Minnie’s hand as she said it. ‘Is this Minnie’s influence, sending you out campaigning with all the do-gooders?’

‘Oh, I’ve met so many wonderful people, so inspiring. I’ve also joined this brilliant group called “Pick Litter, Have a Witter”. They coordinate groups of people to go litter picking and you can chat to like-minded people on any given topic while you collect rubbish. There was a bit of a mix-up when I first joined, they put me in a group of people suffering from PBA – Post-Brexit Anxiety. I was talking at cross-purposes with this lad for hours about the trauma of separation – I thought his wife must have left him!’ Bev laughed.

‘Well, I’m so pleased you’re feeling better about everything,’ said Minnie.

‘My GP also started me on a course of anti-depressants, but I don’t think that’s what’s making the difference to my mood. I think it’s more likely to be the litter picking.’

‘Well, you’re feeling better, that’s the main thing,’ said Leila.

They arrived at the hair salon, which was tucked away down an unassuming side street. ‘Hair by Clare’ was run by two ladies who were both in their eighties and both, unsurprisingly, called Clare. Leila had known them for years and was a regular client. Walking into the salon felt like stepping back in time. The walls were covered in old prints of vintage cosmetic adverts; there was a gramophone in the corner playing jazz music, and two of those old-fashioned-style hairdryers, with large pink plastic helmets. Even the magazines laid out on the coffee table were from a different era, and the two Clares wore vintage pink and grey smock shirts over their clothes. Fleur was already there. She was scrolling through her phone with one hand and holding a flowery teacup in the other.

‘At last,’ she said, looking up as they came in.

Leila hugged both of the Clares, and then turned to introduce everyone.

‘So Fleur you’ve met. Bev, Minnie, this is Claire and Clare. One with an “i” and one without.’

The Claire with an ‘i’ wore glasses and had neat brown hair set into a wave. The Clare without had grey hair styled in a short bouffant bob.

‘So, how did you decide whether Hair by Clare should have an “i” in it or not?’ Minnie asked.

‘Don’t mention the name,’ said Leila dramatically, shaking her head.

‘It’s a long story … ’ said Claire.