‘Because you were makin’ your moves.’ Kylie zipped out the words like she was the cool friend in some ditzy sitcom.
‘It was a bit of a bust, anyway. But that’s good. Now all that silliness is behind us, we can move forward in a sensible, friendly way with no awkwardness.’
Kylie rolled her eyes. ‘Sure you can. At least let me dress you for this sensible meet-up. Green is your colour, Hannah. Or black, navy, maybe a rich plum.’ She turned to the cupboard. ‘Why am I only seeing denim in here?’
‘I don’t go out, remember?’
‘Right.’
Hannah sighed. ‘Come on, Kylie, do I really need to get gussied up?’
‘Yes. You do. No argument.’ Kylie turned back to the closet and wrestled a puffy, creased, dull pink strapless frock from its hanger. ‘You’ve still got your formal dress? Wow. It is even more hideous than I remembered; is it my imagination, or does this thing look like a pavlova?’
‘Hey. My mother made that.’
‘And I thought my mum was mean.’ Kylie stuffed the dress (with difficulty) back in the closet and pulled out a pair of black jeans that still had the label attached. ‘Aha. Now we’re on to something.’
Hannah shook her head. ‘I bought them online. They’re too tight.’
‘Too tight to deliver a baby cow in, sure. Too tight to wear on a coffee date? I think not. Come on, try them on.’
‘It’s not a date,’ she said but rose from the bed and stripped down to her underwear to put them on.
Kylie’s mouth dropped open. ‘Hannah. Seriously. Is that the best you can do?’
‘What?’ She looked down at her sensible beige knickers, the white cotton bra that—admittedly—had turned the colour of old dog teeth.
‘I am a mechanic,’ said Kylie, ‘and I wear better underwear than that under my overalls.’
‘But you were a beautician first, Kylie. That girl stuff sticks.’
‘New underwear every year from now on, or I wash my hands of you.’
She grinned. ‘Yes, mummy Kylie.’
‘Okay, put the pants on while I decide if these blouses are going in the maybe pile or the over-my-dead-body pile.’
‘I like the white one.’
‘You’ve lost your vote. Here, try this,’ she said, tossing over an ivory blouse. ‘It’s pretty warm out, but if the breeze comes up you might want this.’
A teal blue shawl landed next to Hannah as she lay back on the bed to get the zipper on the black jeans done up. ‘I’m not going to be able to consume more than a macaron without busting this zip.’
Kylie ignored her and went to the oak dressing table which had come from Hannah’s grandmother. ‘Amber earrings! Hannah, these are lovely. See, you do have taste.’
‘Josh gave me those.’
‘Figures. That man has it all, doesn’t he? Charm, taste and a killer arse. Broke my heart when he took up with Vera.’
‘Yours and every other single heart in the Snowy Mountains.’
Kylie rubbed a hand over her chest and sighed a little. ‘Yep. Still broken.’
‘Oh, give over,’ said Hannah, standing at the dressing table to try on the earrings. The orange crystals dangled flirtatiously from her ears. ‘Hmm. These do look nice.’
Kylie put an arm around her waist and hugged her into her side. ‘That’s you looking nice, Hannah. You make the earrings, not the other way around, and you know what?’
‘What?’
