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“It’s a temporary blip, so view it as that.”

Sloane narrowed her eyes. “You know what would cheer me up?”

Ella shook her head. “Tell me.”

“You trying on clothes. I’ve been asking you to come and raid my wardrobe for ages, but you never do. It’s the wish of a dying woman.”

“You’re dying now?”

“We’re all dying, every second of every single day.” She sipped her coffee and shot Ella a ridiculous, pleading face. “Please? For me? I’m hardly asking you to do something terrible.”

She had to admit that was true. Plus, what could it hurt? Ella blew out her cheeks. “Okay. You’re on.” She jumped up. “You need a hand?”

But Sloane shook her head as Ella knew she would.

“Where are we going?”

“To my bedroom.”

Ella’s heart slammed in her chest. She could totally do this. Just wait until she told Marina. But even as the thought formed, she knew she never would. She hadn’t shared much about her friendship with Sloane with anyone. She waited for Sloane to position her crutches, and followed her into her bedroom.

She wasn’t sure what she expected, but it was similar to the lounge. Devoid of personal touches. As if Sloane didn’t believe she was going to stay here. Maybe that was true. Maybe she had a premonition that things weren’t going to work out. Ella swept that thought from her mind as her toes sank into the plush beige carpet underfoot. While everywhere else had laminate flooring, the bedroom was kinder to her feet and its acoustics.

Sloane took a seat on a wide, Barbie-doll-pink armchair and dropped her crutches on the carpet. They didn’t make a sound. “I’m going to have to guide you here. Normally I’d get the clothes, but I’d be pretty useless.” She pointed at the bank of built-in storage ahead. “The sliding door on the left is all the stuff I’ve been sent that’s still in its packaging. Anything you want, take.”

Ella slid open the wardrobe door and let out an audible splutter. The rail bent under the weight of the clothes hanging from it. “There’s more on this rail than at a Next Boxing Day sale, and that’s saying something.”

Sloane laughed. “I’ve no idea if that’s good or bad. There’s more in another wardrobe, but let’s start here. Grab as much as you can and put it on the bed. Then you can sort through, see what you like, discard what you don’t, and then try on your selections.”

Ella ferried armfuls of clothes and threw them on the bed. “I thought you’d get sports clothes, not fashion.”

“Not just fashion, but high-end fashion.” Sloane raised an eyebrow and flicked up some imaginary lapels on her plain white T-shirt. “I’m known for my style and flair. Designers and big brands want me wearing them when I go out.”

“They might not be so keen on me in their threads.”

Sloane shrugged. “They send me the clothes, but I can do what I want with them.”

“Seriously, I’m not sure I can take these. Some of this is worth so much money.” Ella thought of her mum and her Aunt Ursula, scrimping and saving all their lives to buy things. Then people like Sloane got sent so much stuff? It was obscene.

“You can and you will. Otherwise, it’ll just sit in my wardrobe, and that’s more of a waste, right?”

That was true. “I guess it would stop me buying more stuff I don’t need.”

“And save the planet into the bargain, it’s the perfect arrangement. Plus, it’d be nice to give you something for a change. You’ve been a key part of me settling here, professionally and personally. And you brought me cream for my coffee, which means I have a huge debt to pay off.”

Ella stared. Sometimes, she had to pinch herself that this was her life.

“Right back at ya. It’s been nice living in the same block and getting to know you. Even if it won’t be for much longer.”

Sloane tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“The club only paid for my flat for six months. After that, I need to find my own place. Which is up in January, so two months’ time.”

“You couldn’t continue renting it?”

She shook her head. “It’s already rented out again.”

“Well, shit. I didn’t know that.” Sloane frowned.