She climbed out of the bath and towelled herself, feeling the sudden kick of desire as she pulled on her black thong.

In the background she could hear Bob Marley singing ‘Don’t Worry’, which had been their favourite song when they were launching their first restaurant. ‘I think you’re right, Bob. Everything is gonna be alright!’

The only cloud on her optimistic horizon was the old man. He’d never liked her. But if she was clever enough about it, she was pretty sure she could find somewhere to send him and convince Philippe it was the right thing to do.

The food at the pre-wedding dinner was delicious. Nicky had asked for something simple, and it was simple in that it used few ingredients; but somehow Jean-Christophe had created flavours of amazing freshness and depth out of those few elements. They were all delighted and impressed.

‘I can’t wait to see what he comes up with tomorrow,’ Maureen commented to her husband. ‘It’s certainly not going to be the usual overdone chicken leg, anyway.’

Bill got to his feet. ‘I know tomorrow’s the day for speeches, but while we still have you to ourselves, I just wanted to say how proud I am of my lovely daughter. To Nicola!’

‘To Nicola!’ echoed all the other guests.

‘Do you want some help with the flowers, Mum?’ Ronnie’s younger daughter Lara asked tactfully. ‘Everyone’s a bit worried you’re going to run out of time.’

‘How ridiculous.’ Ronnie slurred slightly. ‘There’s plenty of time. I know exactly what I’m doing.’

‘There’s also the wedding pavilion to deck, the table centrepieces and, of course, the bride’s bouquet,’ Sophie reminded, trying not to show her irritation.

‘I’ve only agreed to do the main flower arrangements and the bouquet,’ Ronnie replied huffily.

Sophie tried to repress an extremely rude word. ‘Right, girls –’ she addressed Lara and the bridesmaids – ‘it’s up early for flower picking in the garden before you get your hair and make-up. I’ll bring you all a cup of tea.’ Several of them giggled as they went up to bed.

‘Oh,’ Ronnie remarked, looking very pleased with herself. ‘I forgot to give you these. I had them printed specially.’

They all unwrapped their small packages, which turned out to be short pink wraps in imitation silk. Along with the obvious ones saying Bride and Bridesmaid, there was another with the letters MoB for Mother of the Bride and GoB for Nicky’s grandmother.

‘I suggest an earlyish night.’ Nicky looked round hopefully.

‘You always were a bit of a goody-goody,’ replied Ronnie.

‘Come on, Mum,’ intervened Lara. ‘Drink up your wine, or you’ll end up with a hangover on Nicky’s wedding day. And don’t forget you’re doing the flowers!’

‘Everyone keeps going on about the sodding flowers! I wish I hadn’t said I’d do them!’