'Pack? What does she need to pack? What. Is. This?'

Hecate extended a stern finger. On it was looped a sort of stringed contraption.

'Is this what ordinaires use to floss with?'

Dimity was wailing out some inane pop song and gyrating her hips in a vulgar fashion.

We're going to Ibiza. Back to the island she warbled. Ada plucked it out of Hecate's hand and put it in Dimity's handbag pocket carefully.

'I rather think Dimity will need that for the plane. Always carry spare underwear when travelling, that's what my mother always told us.'

'That. Is underwear?'

Hecate's eyes bulged in disbelief. Ada snorted with laughter.

'More space in her suitcase for presents.'

She picked up a couple of bits and pieces and folded them neatly.

'Which bit is which?' Asked Hecate cautiously.

'The purple one is for the first night and the orange one is for the second night' Dimity informed them.

Hecate specified her enquiry about which part of fabric covered which area of the body.

Dimity stared at her.

'It's a dress. You only wear one.'

'You are wearing only one of those per night?' Hecate checked, scandalised. The dresses covered very little.

'It's clubbing, HB. You've got to look sexy.'

Ada laughed at the thought of Hecate understanding what any of this meant.

'It's a hen party. Girls holiday. Got to get messy.'

She started throwing bikinis into the suitcase.

Hecate winced.

'What. Are. You. Doing?'

Dimity was jiggling and thrusting her bottom most provocatively.

'It's twerking innit. Got to practice.'

We're going to have a party. In the Mediterranean sea she sang along to the tinny pop song emanating from her Maglet.

'Do you need to pack scuba gear?'

They looked at her. They weren't sure how Hecate knew of scuba gear but it was a valid question. She took things very literally.

'It's an island. We're not going to actually dance in the sea. Although a cruise is on the cards. And I suppose anything can happen when you're on the mojitos.'

What was a mojito? Thought Hecate. A type of local Mediterranean island man? Typical Dimity, jetting off to mix with ordinaries. She shook her head, trying to get the lurid music from her mind. Dimity had wanted her to make up a hangover potion to take with her. She did her best to describe the symptoms to a nonplussed Hecate who assured her that she would brew very carefully.

'I..have a potion to check up on.'

She exited with great relief to the vibration of something called the Macarena. Something that required dance steps that could be taught to an enthusiastic Ada. Hecate was going to have to make a strong batch to counter all that alcohol. Dimity was going to need it.