‘I’m not sure,’ I say, trying to process the wave of information I have just received about Henry.

‘He’s also an aspiring stand-up comedian,’ Harper says.

‘Oh,’ I say. That is not the selling point she thinks it is.

‘The good kind,’ she assures me.

I don’t know what that means.

‘Look at him,’ Penny says. She holds out her phone, and there is a picture of Henry, smiling. He is cute. Good hair, notable eyebrows.

A sudden, awful thought occurs to me. ‘Oh god,’ I say. ‘Have you already told him about me? What did you say?’

‘No,’ Harper says. ‘Yes,’ Penny says at the same time.

They glance at each other.

‘We said you’re brilliant, incredibly smart, very motivated, studying economics but also very creative, a talented runner, very organised, gorgeous, an amazing cook, a classic Virgo,’ Harper says.

‘Oh god,’ I say. There is no way I can live up to all that. ‘And I don’t have any nice photos,’ I add, panic rising.

‘Let’s just take one right now,’ Penny says soothingly.

Harper claps her hands together. ‘Photoshoot!’ she says.

This is my hard line. I will not participate in a photoshoot. And I will not go on a date with flute-playing, stand-up comedian Henry.

Ten minutes later, though, I walk out in the lounge room in the first of multiple outfit options for the photo we are going to send Henry. I’m wearing the black dress I wore to the party.

‘Okay this could work. Oh! We could go for a kind of gothic, creative look. If we add plenty of eyeliner. And I have the perfect prop in my bag! It’s a hardcover edition of the new Murakami novel that I bought for my dad,’ Penny says.

‘I don’t wear much eyeliner. Or read Murakami. Well, not yet anyway. I’m definitely going to.’

‘That doesn’t matter.’

‘Aren’t these photos supposed to represent reality, somewhat?’

‘A version of reality,’ Harper says. ‘It’s just about the first impression. A taster, to hook them in.’ She has gone to the bathroom and grabbed her make-up and she tells me to keep still and starts applying eyeliner to my eyes.

‘Maybe we should take the photo in front of a bookshelf?’ Penny muses, looking around the house like an art director.

‘With the book and a cigarette,’ Harper nods.

‘Oh perfect!’ Penny says.

‘I am not smoking. No one smokes anymore. Especially inside,’ I say.

‘But you’d look so cool. Very old school literary badass. Very I-don’t-care-about-my-future-I-live-in-the-now. The photo could be in black and white,’ Harper says.

‘But I do care about my future. Aren’t you selling him on the idea that I’m someone who cares about their future?’ I feel like we’re getting too far away from the original purpose of the photo.

‘Do you have a dramatic scarf?’ Penny asks.