Rona heard once again the high-pitched squeak from the hallway of her house. She opened the door of her room. "Can someone please change the battery in the bloody smoke-detector?" she shouted down the stair. It squeaked again, like a bat trapped inside the house. "Sorry about that, mate" she said into the 'phone she was cradling on her shoulder.

"No worries" replied Hannah at the other end. she rubbed her ear with the palm of her hand and wished Rona wouldn't shout so loudly. "What are you wearing now?" she asked.

"Same thing as before" replied Rona, balancing on one leg while she tried to change her pants without dropping the 'phone. "It's hard work doing all this stuff at the same time, you know."

"How long have you got?"

"About an hour. Just under."

"Oh honey, you've got ages."

"Easy for you to say, Hannah. It's all so . . . effortless for you."

"Oh, it is, it is. It's a burden I must carry" laughed Hannah. She was lying on the floor of her house, her hair splayed out over the carpet. The 'phone cord stretched across the flor to the kitchen, ready to trip up anybody who was reckless enough to pass by.

"Why am I dressing up, anyway?" muttered Rona, more to herself than to Hannah. "No-one dressed up to go out these days. Fuck!"

"What is it?"

"There's a big stain from something on my green pants."

"Don't wear the green ones."

"Why not?"

"They're ugly."

"You never told me!"

"I never had to."

"Fine" said Rona, sulking. "I won't wear the green ones. This is all so dodgy, anyway. I mean: getting dressed up, just to impress a guy."

"Well Rona, honey, if you want to go out wearing cargo pants and a hoody you just go right ahead."
Rona put her foot back on the floor before she fell over and thought about this. "You're trying to trick me into something, but I don't know what" she said. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm just saying, when you're going out it's nice to make yourself look a bit fancy . . . Fancier than usual, I mean. It'll give you confidence. Or some bullshit like that, I dunno. I heard it somewhere."

"But - wouldn't I be more confident in my usual clothes? Ones that I'm comfortable in? Instead of worrying about whether one of the straps on my dress is gonna fall down or something?"

"You own a dress?"

"No. Of course not! I'm just saying."

"Okay, okay" said Hannah, craning her neck to look at her sitting-room upside-down. She giggled.

"Hannah, are you high?"

"Just a little stoned, honey, just a little stoned."

"Wait, and I'm taking advice from you? Fucking hell . . ."

Hannah laughed loudly down the 'phone into Rona's ear. "Oh, honey" she said at last. "Just ignore me. Wear whatever the fuck you want to wear."