The cream is Moroccan Rose and new.
It is thick and rich and coloured gently pink.
She scoops it on after she has towelled her hair and before she brushes powder on her cheeks. Left arm, right arm, left leg, right.
The lid and the label are black and after only a week, they are showing her fingerprints.
It has the kind of smell which wafts in and out of her day and makes her reach for memories that haven’t been made.