How could Holly say that? She must have been pressured. Surely they didn’t believe this bullshit. To think her boys were both with Holly, listening to lies, and not at home supporting her.

Mary maintenance was a two-woman job, but Lil and K were up for it. Three bottles of Bella Brava later and they were watching Muriel’s Wedding again, all of them finally numbed.

Mary woke fully dressed and in the recovery position. She sighed. She was supposed to feel better this morning.

One of the many voicemail messages was from Fi, her stand-up teacher:

‘Hi Mary, got your message – no worries re missing this week. Attached are some notes on dealing with heckling. PS, I watched the practice set you emailed … I know I asked you to be bold, but we need a chat about How Far…’

Mary could hear the racket outside but decided not to look. She donned her best disguise – one of Jack’s hoodies – and put her enormous headphones on, choosing the tune most likely to get her out the door: The Who, ‘Red White and Blue’. In front of the full-length kitchen mirror, which she did not look good in for the first time in a while, Mary jumped up and down on the spot while singing ‘I love every minute of the day’ – tiny, mad-woman jumps, head hoodied, ears muffed, arms tight by her side. ‘I love every minute of the day.’ She grabbed her bag and headed downstairs.

‘This isn’t on, Mary.’ Nora from 1/1. ‘I’ve called the police three times. My bay window’s covered in tropical fruit.’

‘I’m so sorry. I’ll call again too.’ Mary pressed the headphones back against her ears and opened the front door. At least twenty people were protesting outside, and it took a moment for Mary to realise that at least half of them were women. Head down like John Paul exiting Glasgow Sheriff Court, she was thankful for the first time that she could never get a park on Mansion House Square.

She drove three blocks to millionaire’s row and sparked up Facebook, which was wild with comments regarding the practice comedy set she’d emailed her teacher. Someone had leaked it on social media, and it was everywhere. Mary rocked back and forth as she watched the home video of herself performing into the kitchen mirror with the kind of gusto she only ever had drunk and alone. Egg whisk in hand, Mary alternated between her own accent and – to create the illusion of an audience – a rougher version of the same.

MARY

Who’s from Glasgow?

AUDIENCE

Yes, aye, yes, aye, yes!

MARY