‘Or a little something else,’ the third woman trilled. She produced a small plastic bag of powder from her handbag and waved it in the air. ‘Found it!’

The heat flushed across Andrea’s face now. Those three women were going to go in there blind drunk, sky high, and then keep taking drugs right in front of Violet. Enough was enough. She had to do something.

She pulled her door all the way open and strode down the hall to Heather’s apartment. She caught the door just as it was about to close and pushed it in. Heather was lying on her back on the floor; her skirt was riding up and she was giggling to herself. One of the other women was already sprawled across the couch and the third had knelt down and was intently searching through her handbag. None of the three women had even noticed Andrea walk in. Violet was standing by the door and the look on her face broke Andrea. It was a look of pure resignation.

Andrea reached out and took hold of Violet’s hand. ‘Hey sweetie,’ she said. ‘Would you like to come and have a sleepover at my place tonight?’

Violet’s eyes darted towards her mother, then she motioned for Andrea to come closer. Andrea crouched down in front of her to listen.

‘I want to,’ Violet whispered. ‘But sometimes when Mummy comes home after her special nights out I have to watch her. In case she gets a little bit sick.’

‘Is that what she’s said to you?’ Andrea asked.

Violet nodded.

‘Well, how about this? Tonight, it looks like your mum has two friends with her, so maybe they could watch her this time and you could have the night off.’

A small smile twitched at the edges of Violet’s mouth. ‘You think that would be okay?’

‘I think it would.’

Heather rolled over on the floor and seemed to finally notice Andrea’s presence in her apartment.

‘Oh hey,’ she said. ‘Look, girls, it’s the stupid bitch I was telling you about. The nosy cow. Hello, nosy cow, moooo.’ She snorted at her own joke then reached out for Andrea’s ankle. ‘What the fuck are you doing in my apartment, nosy cow?’

‘I’m taking Violet back to my place,’ Andrea said, trying her best to keep her voice firm, even though she wasn’t sure if Heather and her two friends might suddenly pounce on her with their French-tipped talons and rip her to pieces for interfering. Andrea pulled her leg away and her ankle slipped out of Heather’s weak, drunken grip.

Heather stared at her, and for a moment Andrea thought she was in for a fight. But then Heather dropped her gaze. ‘Fine. Whatever. I don’t give a shit.’

At the same time, the woman who’d been searching through her bag pulled out a credit card and tapped it on the coffee table.