Page 115 of Secret Paths

“You look like a man trying very hard not to react.”

“I am succeeding.”

“You are not.”

“I am succeeding internally.”

Her mouth twitches despite herself.

“With wings,” she says, recovering some dignity by force. “And not pantyliners. Actual pads.”

“With wings. Actual pads. No tampons.”

“Good. We shall now never speak of this again.”

I pick up my keys from the side table. “Anything else?”

She hesitates.

Not long, but long enough.

“Mandy.”

“Extra absorbent,” she says, briskly. “Not the enormous night-time ones unless there is no choice, but not the tiny, useless ones either.”

“Extra absorbent, but not mattress-sized.”

Her mouth twitches. “That is alarmingly accurate.”

“I am learning.”

“Ibuprofen too, please.”

“Ibuprofen.”

“And...” She stops.

I wait.

She rolls her eyes at herself. “If they sell cheap knickers, get those too.”

“Plain?”

Her eyes open wider. “Obviously plain.”

“I was checking.”

“Were you planning on novelty ones?”

“I was not planning any part of this.”

“Black if they have them. Or whatever. Nothing lace. Nothing with a cartoon character on the front.”

“I will avoid cartoons.”

“And do not get anything that says something on the waistband.”

“What would it say?”