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‘Chosen for you.’ I loved what I was wearing too. Green ankle boots, bobbled red wool tights, a short mustard tube skirt, and a fleecy orange jumper to disguise my thickening waist. I unzipped my coat and flashed the full view at Milly.
‘And Rainbow Girl is back!’ she said. ‘Goodbye, Grey Woman. Hello there, Rainbow Girl. We’ve missed you. I much prefer you in clothes I need to wear sunglasses to look at.’
‘Hello.’ I zipped up again.
‘Oh, don’t put it away. I want a pic to show Mum.’ Milly’s teeth were chattering.
‘You won’t get a pic out here. Not with the light changing every five seconds.’ The moon was flashing at us, off, on, off, on, as a procession of clouds sped past to eclipse and uncover her. She seemed to mirror the lighthouse’s lamp. For an instant, I glimpsed a frown that Milly didn’t imagine I could see. ‘How’s Gaston?’ I said.
‘I hate him so much,’ Milly said, ‘that I want him to die, because then I would get over him. But I can’t stop fucking him.’
It was my turn to snort my drink.
Milly went on. ‘I hate how he puts that fucking gross hairspray on that fucking gross long hair of his, and I wish it would catch fire when he fills that fucking gross old wreck of a car of his with petrol.’ She paused. ‘Look how – odd – you look.’
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