Eventually, and to Sacha's relief, the magazine was put back in Rona's bag. Sacha excused herself to go to the bathroom. In her absence, Hannah and Rona chatted as they always did. When Sacha returned to the table she caught an off-the-cuff remark from Hannah about the visit to see her family the night before.

"That must have been nice" said Sacha without thinking, simply trying to make conversation. She grimaced inwardly even before Hannah shot her a look of such hurt and disappointment as Sacha had never seen before in a person's face. Sacha dropped her head, ashamed and embarrassed - and confused, too, about why she should feel so strongly about having seemingly made a fool of herself in front of Hannah.

Hannah, for her part, gauged something of what Sacha was feeling but, unsure of how to respond given her refusal to talk about her family, instead responded simply by changing the topic of conversation.

"So Rona" she said with a strained cheerfulness. "I feel like I haven't seen anyone in fucking ages. What's everyone been doing?"

Rona of course couldn't help but notice what had just happened, but she knew Hannah well enough to play along with her on this occasion. But she didn't know what to do for Sacha, who after all was also her friend and who was painfully quiet in the seat next to her. She guessed she just had to leave that up to Hannah and Sacha.

"Well" she said carefully. "Phuong's doing good. Still working in her parents' place but she's thinking of going back to uni. Well, she was last time I talked to her but you know what she's like." Rona laughed.

"Right" nodded Hannah. (The easy understanding between the two of them only made Sacha feel more isolated.) "What about Brent?" asked Hannah. (Sacha lifted her head slightly at the sound of Brent's name, though more out of curiosity than any genuine interest.)

"He's good. He's still wasting himself on that stupid fucking girlfriend of his."

Hannah laughed gently and placed a hand on Rona's shoulder. "Why Rona honey, if I didn't know better . . ."

"Oh shut up" said Rona and flicked Hannah the finger good-naturedly. "Seriously though, it's such a waste. I mean, he's such a nice guy and she's . . . I mean he's so generous and she's just not interested in anything except her own tiny, superficial little world and . . . Ugh, it just pisses me off, that's all."

"Okay, okay, okay . . . Easy there sister." Hannah's tactic was working: she was already starting to forget about her family and Sacha's comment. (Sacha, for her part, still couldn't forget about it, or help rueing it.) "So" continued Hannah, "who's next in our happy little menagerie?" She took a sip of wine. "Ah yes" she grinned, "our favourite odd couple, Alain and young Malcolm."

Rona snorted with laughter. "Alain? Who the fuck knows. I haven't talked to him for ages. Pretty much since he pissed you off, actually" she said to Sacha. Sacha looked at her through the lenses of her glasses, trying to decide what to make of this. She hadn't really thought much about Alain in months - Rona had been right, back when they first met: his interest seemed to have waned mercifully quickly. "As for Mal" said Rona, "Well he's got his big gig coming up pretty soon. You're coming, aren't you Hannah?"