Toyah fiddled with the bracelet wrapped around her wrist. It was a thin, plastic bracelet formed of interconnecting rings of different neon colours. She smiled, thinking back to the day she had bought it for a daft price in a bar in Malta.
Ginny watched her with her top lip curled upwards in distaste. She adjusted her designer handbag with a hand decorated in shimmering rings.
‘What do you wear that?’ she asked. Toyah looked up from the bracelet as though she had forgotten that anybody else was there.
‘It reminds me of good times,’ she replied.
‘It’s tacky, though. Why don’t you get rid of it? There’s some great silver on the market right now. You could upgrade – a lot.’
Toyah shrugged her shoulders. ‘Wouldn’t be the same,’ she said. ‘It’s the little things that matter, you know?’
Ginny didn’t know at all, and Toyah didn’t need to hear her say it to know it was true. She slipped the sleeve of her jacket down, covering the plastic bracelet so that it was out of sight.
‘Shall we go?’ Toyah said, quick to change the subject where her sense of style – or lack of style – was concerned.
The look on Ginny’s face told Toyah that she wasn’t fooled, but she dropped the subject all the same.