Aunt Viv was having none of it. She tutted and remarked on how they hadn’t had to think about things like that when she was younger. “We stuck together in my day,” she said, reminiscing. “Spirit of the Blitz and all that.” But Emma knew that the spirit of the Blitz for Viv had mainly consisted of sneaking out of the shelters to go around and give the air raid wardens unexpected handjobs to distract them while her friends burgled empty houses, and the only things that had really ‘stuck together’ were the wardens’ cummy pants that they had, probably wisely, declined to take off in case their superiors came by, not that they ever would, because they were also firing off little rounds of semen for other tempting slags who’d had the same idea. Still, Emma liked to hear about the old days, the cummy yet malnourished old days.