“They're all out of date!” she instantly yells back at Mum, in a way that suggests they've had this argument before.
“We don't all live in a bloody fashion time-?warp like you do! When are you going to realize it's the twenty-?first century?” She gestures at Mum's dress.
“It's tragic!”
“Amy, stop it!” I say hastily. “That's not the point. And anyway, those bras don't even fit you!”
“You can sell bras on eBay,” she retorts scathingly.
“Fancy overpriced bras, that is.” She shoves on her T-?shirt, sinks down onto the floor, and starts texting something on her phone. I'm totally flummoxed by all of this.
“Amy,” I say at last, “maybe we should have a little talk. Mum, why don't you go and make some coffee or something?” Mum looks totally flustered, and seems grateful to head out to th
