Cathy took a moment to appreciate it anew. ‘Yep. Good call.’

Becky leaned back out the window and blew a plume of smoke and they watched as it drifted upwards, the warm light of the bedroom catching it and making it glow against the deep background of stars.

‘So what happened after that stuff the other night?’ Becky said, overly nonchalant. ‘That stuff with the car and the highway, after the film?’

‘Oh, you know, everyone was upset about it. In their way.’

Becky looked uncomfortable. She picked a bit of cracked paint off the windowsill.

‘So,’ she began, hesitantly. ‘You know, I’ve said it before –’

‘Oh god, not this again, Becky,’ Cathy said.

‘I just feel like I have to say it. I just think you should think about it, that’s all.’ Becky turned to face Cathy, her arm still hanging out of the window holding the cigarette. ‘It’s really not normal, Cat.’

‘You’re being extreme and dramatic,’ said Cathy, turning away from her to blow smoke out of her nose. ‘It’s just not that bad. It’s actually fine.’

‘I dunno,’ said Becky, leaning her elbows back on the windowsill, and then she gave a sly smile. ‘I think in your situation Madonna would do something.’

Cathy had always enjoyed the strange, pleased expression Becky got on her face when she’d said something that Cathy laughed at. Especially when she made Cathy snort, as Cathy did now. It didn’t happen all that often – Becky’s humour successes were hit and miss. Often, she seemed surprised by them herself.

‘We don’t always have to do everything Madonna does, you know, Becky,’ Cathy said, still laughing.

‘Really?’ Becky said, mock innocently. ‘We don’t? Better cancel my pointy bra then.’

Cathy snorted again and then leaned out and squashed her cigarette end on the underneath of the windowsill, where it wouldn’t be seen by Bette. ‘You still good for Secret Cake on Tuesday?’ she asked Becky. ‘Danny and Leonie are in.’

‘Wait, let me check my busy social calendar,’ said Becky, leaning out of the window herself and stubbing her cigarette in the same spot as Cathy’s. ‘Yeah, nah, should be fine.’ She grinned and then hitched up her skirt and began to climb out the window.

‘You know you don’t have to go out that way when no-one’s home,’ Cathy said.

Becky shrugged. ‘I like it.’ She pulled herself out and dropped down onto the grass on the other side. ‘So, your bathers look totally cool. Jen won’t be able to match them. Tomorrow at the res?’

‘Yeah,’ Cathy had said to her, hands up and ready to slide the window down behind her. ‘See you tomorrow, Becks.’

She’d watched Becky walk off down the path to her bike, then slid the window sash down with a scrape and a thud.

It seemed incongruous now. That that was what she had said about that day. That day.

See you tomorrow, was what she’d said, and she’d said it like it was just any other day. And to her, just then, at that time, it was.