I’m about to ask Scott what he thinks of Lizzie, when a young woman in a black satin dress steps out of the pagoda, lifts a violin to her shoulder and begins to play. The guests immediately hush and the ceremony begins.

*

“What did you think?” asks Scott a short while later as we make our way back around the pond towards the reception venue.

“It was lovely,” I say neutrally.

Scott laughs. “It was pretentious as hell.”

Grinning, I bite my lip. “It was very…” I search for the word. “Dramatic,” I say finally.

“Yeah, well, that’s Lizzie to a tee.”

“She certainly seemed to enjoy her moment in the spotlight,” I state, remembering Lizzie’s theatrical arrival in a horse-drawn carriage and her painfully slow walk down the aisle in a dress covered in sequins and with a bridal train so long it needed six bridesmaids to lift it.

We enter the reception room – a large hall with dark wooden beams, huge chandeliers and grand displays of flowers – and line up for the obligatory “congratulate the bride and groom” moment. When we reach the front of the queue, Scott places a hand on my back and guides me forwards.

“Lizzie, this is Trish.”

The bride gives me the quick once-over.

“Hi,” she says. “I was surprised to hear Scottie was bringing someone. Have you been together long?”

Man, she doesn’t muck about. I know a loaded question when I hear one. I’m guessing Lizzie is fairly friendly with Scott’s ex-wife.

Scott clears his throat. “Well, she”

“Not long,” I interrupt. “Thank you for letting me come to your wedding at such short notice. You look absolutely stunning.”

Lizzie smiles, no doubt pleased with the compliment.

“Enjoy your night,” she says brightly.

Harry is a lot more genuine as he hugs us each in turn.

“Glad that part’s over,” he says with a wink before turning to greet the elderly man behind me.

We head to the bar, where Scott declines the champagne being handed around and orders a beer and a lime and soda for me.

“Thanks for before,” he says, handing me my drink. “But I should warn you – if Lizzie thinks you and I are an item, there’s going to be a lot of people in this room asking questions.”

“You mean checking me out.”

Scott chuckles. “That’s another way of putting it.”

“Would you rather I’d told her I was some random stranger you accosted and begged to come to the wedding so you wouldn’t be a sad singleton?”

Now Scott laughs outright.

“This is why I knew it was going to be great having you here, Trish.”