Outside work, she's raising two boys, buying crazy houses and renovating them, playing keyboard in an '80s cover band. She exercises, eats well, is very close to her family, and is a great cook. I mean, she brews kombucha. We have a very similar aesthetic. We're both blonde, we have lots of the same clothes, the same glasses. We sometimes ring each other up and say, "What are you wearing?" Last week we didn't do that, and we went to Darwin for work, and we each took one pair of shoes, and it was the same pair. We travel together a fair bit. Last year we went to Italy for a conference. Anna found some accommodation in Florence. She was like "It's really cheap and I don't know why. It's got frescoes!" And it turned out to be the most haunted hotel in the world – more haunted than the hotel in The Shining! I made her sleep with the light on. It was terrifying. She said she felt someone touch her face. I'm sure she was messing with me, but it was really creepy. I never feel upset with her. Although when we're writing our annual report, which gets tabled in Parliament, tensions do run high. I hate it when she writes in the passive voice. I change it to active, and she gets upset with me and changes it back. We have a lot of conflict in our work: trouble with mens' rights activists, pushback about recommendations. People often don't take us seriously, which is a weird position to be in: as women, occupying this important policy role, going into a world where this work is regarded as a little bit fluffy, or isn't seen as important. And because we look sort of the same, people sometimes say, "Oh, are you guys sisters?" in a kind of porny gross way. We're like "No! Don't do that!"

Sometimes Anna doesn't recognise how good she is. In fact, her skills are immense. She just needs to remember she's clever as, and a great diplomat. Sometimes meetings get very passionate and high-conflict: we're asking agencies to change policy and they can't always make that change. I get bolshie and opinionated, but she's always incredibly calm. I've watched her negotiate out of the most intractable position to get a good resolution. In a single meeting, she can turn it around. ANNA: Emma's was definitely the standout application. Her CV reminded me a bit of my own background – we both have academic and legal backgrounds – so of course I thought she was amazing! I was a bit worried she was very young, just in terms of the nature of the work – crime scene photos, post-mortems, very traumatic case histories – and when I called her to arrange an interview, she did sound about 12. At uni she did kids' parties dressed up as Fairy Sweet Pea, and she has the perfect voice for that character. But she was fantastic from day one. She's a gun researcher, super bright. At her first post-mortem, I was waiting for her to pass out or something, but she was totally fine. We became friends outside the office pretty quickly: I remember one time I was stuck in meetings and my kid got bitten by a dog and she picked him up. She just steps in and sorts stuff out. I was overseas for seven weeks, and my dog got sick, and my mum was freaking out, and Emma managed the whole thing. I don't know whether it's just having spent so much time together, but we do often buy the same things – including the dogs. We got Daisy first. My son had written a letter to Santa – "All I want is a black pug" – and I was like, "Oh God, the stakes are high." Very typically, while I was procrastinating and overthinking, Emma did the ring around and found Daisy (held by Anna). Then she got Biscuit, then Pikelet, then I got Basil (all pictured with Emma). Basil is actually related to Biscuit and Pikelet. Daisy, obviously, came from Santa. We used to bring them into the office: one day someone asked us if they were cadaver dogs. My dogs would eat a cadaver in a heartbeat.