All of these boxes adorning the attic were remnants of past lives that were sometimes painful to remember. Today, the clothes pile. Bernie had obligingly brought over a box of her own, unsealed and ready to unearth. She didn't know what was in it or if she fit in them anymore. But it was time to get rid.

Wielding the scissors, Serena attacked her box and shook off the dust. The first thing she pulled out was an item she'd barely remembered she'd had. A good 25 years since she'd worn this. She'd recycled it to wear during her pregnancy. So very 90's. Long, black and crinkly, just the sort of grunge all the cool kids used to wear.

Bernie laughed when she saw it, she'd also dressed the same. She had worn one in red floral, sadly consigned to the dust heap years ago. 'I remember those dresses.'

'You could hide all sorts of things under them. One of my classmates wore one when every time she went shoplifting. Hid her baby bump under it soon after.'

Bernie couldn't say she was shocked. Those dresses hid a multitude of sins. She suggested that she try it on. Serena whipped her top off and wriggled into the dress. She did it the way Bernie did, flung over her head with one hand. Bernie liked that. It fit as expected. It had serious side boob potential.

'What kind of bra did you wear with that?'

'I didn't.' Serena gave her a foxy look that nearly undid her. Bernie looked away to hide her blush.

She pulled out another item, a soft leather jacket. Bernie liked the look of it. It didn't seem like something Serena would wear either.

'I loved this jacket. Wore it almost to death. I must have got too mumsy for it.' She put on and marvelled that it still fit, although not across the chest as much.

'I feel old!'

Bernie slapped her on the arm.

'Don't be ridiculous. We're not past it yet.'

They laughed at the idea that they used to be reckless fools like their daughters were now. All that time ago when the moon meant staying up and howling at it with a drink and running into work a few hours later for a long exhausting shift.

'Don't know when I stopped wearing this.' Bernie heard the wistful tone and wondered when it was that girls stopped being bright young things. She raised her phone and snapped a picture for the archive. Serena protested but Bernie requested her to show it off. She obliged in the end, trousers were taken off, followed by the bra and although she couldn't find the right shoes, she posed barefoot anyway. Bernie secretly enjoyed the picture that showed off a lot more of Serena's body than she'd dared to imagine.

Serena toyed with the dress but decided not to keep it.

'Way past its sell by date, I think Elinor would use this as a cleaning rag. Pass.'

'Keep the jacket. Maybe Elinor would like it' suggested Bernie. She rubbed an appreciative hand over the soft black leather. She could smell the perfume from the last time it had been worn. Light with a hint of spice. She asked about it.

'CK Eternity. I haven't worn that in years.' They both sniffed the collar expectantly. Serena glanced sideways to observe the blonde strands laying startlingly fair against the dark leather. It looked good. She bet Bernie looked good in leather.

'Ok it's a keeper. For now.'

'Wear it to work.'

'I think I might told to change and wear something less subversive. I might wear it on the weekend.'

It was Bernie's turn next. She took the scissors and apprehensively and opened her box. She barely recognised the first item until she shook it out. An A-line skirt, horizontally striped in alternating shades of blue.

'Oh my word, what is this?' Serena's delight could hardly be contained.

'Is that a skirt I see before me? Major Berenice Wolfe in a skirt!'

Bernie scowled at it, 'Makes me look like I run the WI.'

'Have you ever made jam?' Serena was dying to know.

'Once. I burned it' Bernie confessed, stealing a look of contrition at her. It was so endearing that Serena had to laugh, fingers touching her cheek affectionately. Bernie's skin burned at her touch. She ducked her head shyly.

'Try it on.'

'Why?'

'Because I've never had the privilege of seeing you in a skirt.' There was that foxy glance.

Bernie rolled her eyes. Only Serena could convince her to…

'Put it on.'

Bernie zipped it up and took her trousers off from underneath to show it off properly.

'Well, that's a pleasant sight after a long hard day' teased Serena. It was indeed. Bernie's legs were not used to being stared at. They were certainly shapely. She should have looked like a fish out of water. Instead she looked elegant. Serena gave her the thumbs up with a slight wink and told her to watch her manners and not to side astride a bar stool like she usually did, what a perfect lady she made. Bernie could only shake her head in embarrassment.

'I'll think about it.'

She rooted around and found the very loud jacket she thought she'd gotten rid of ages ago. Serena spluttered with laughter when she saw it. It was so not Bernie. Bright orange with moss green checks. Where on earth had she found that?

'Second hand. It was fun at the time.' She ran her fingers across the rough fabric, lost in her memories of the days where it was acceptable to spend a leisurely Saturday morning at Portobello market. That's where she got it from.

'On. Now.'

Bernie huffed but did as she was told. The whole thing clashed horribly but Serena took the obligatory pictures anyway. They twirled around, laughing at the stupid things they said and did when they were high and irresponsible. Believe it or not, Bernie decided to keep that skirt. Serena would find an occasion for her to wear it. With those legs, it would have been a shame not to. And the jackets? Strictly for the weekend. Serena really liked it on her but Bernie refused to wear it anywhere near work. They were getting good at this compromising thing.