‘We carried lots of it into the church afterwards so as not to waste all that work and because we felt guilty about the churchyard ivy being torn off in strips. I was worried about decorating the church at Christmas without it. But it grew back OK and the churchyard always had wonderful holly.’ Gilly fell silent.

‘OK, Mum,’ said Helena, thinking her mother’s reminiscence had gone on just a bit too long. ‘Let’s finish up here. I want to see your outfit for tomorrow. Did you buy a hat? Or just a dress?’

‘Oh, I didn’t buy anything new. I’ve got lots of clothes.’

‘Mum! This is a party that your lovely new man is giving so his family can meet you properly – and so our lot can meet him – and you haven’t bought something new to wear?’ She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s too late now!’

‘We could always pop down to the supermarket,’ said Gilly. ‘Get something from there?’

Helena tutted and shook her head before putting her arm round her mother and leading her into the house.

‘You look lovely in this,’ said Helena, pulling out a dress that brought out the colour of her mother’s eyes.

‘Yes, but I wore it when I went out with Leo. It reminds me of him. In fact, I’ll have to move it on.’

‘Oh. Seems a shame.’ But Helena did understand. ‘Maybe keep it but just not wear it tomorrow.’

‘OK, I’ll keep it. So what else have we got? What about this?’

Helena shook her head and tried to pick her words. ‘No … too mumsy.’

‘OK. Definitely get rid of that then.’

‘Shall I find a bag?’

‘Look in the top shelf. I keep them there.’

Eventually they created an outfit they both liked and which didn’t have any bad connotations. It was a long, finely pleated skirt that Gilly had bought in a charity shop years ago because she loved it and had now come back into fashion, and a fitted wrap top that, Helena declared, made her waist look tiny.

‘And your big locket on the black velvet ribbon,’ said Helena. ‘Now, let’s arrange a wash and blow-dry.’

‘Too short notice,’ said Gilly, running her fingers through her hair out of sight of the mirror.

‘I’m going to ring Debbie. I know she’ll sort you out; she never lets you down.’

‘It’s not really fair—’

‘I’ll ring her,’ said Helena firmly. ‘She’ll probably fit you in really early tomorrow so you’ll have plenty of time to get ready. And what about your make-up?’

‘I’ll do my own make-up!’ Gilly seemed a bit panicked at the thought of someone else putting make-up on her. ‘You know what those make-up artists are like. They always want you to look natural – the last thing I want!’