‘No, no. Martin’s a sweetie. But is it possible to promise you’ll love someone forever? I mean – look at my mum and dad. And now Auntie Steph and Uncle David, and he’s such a nice man. A bit like Martin, actually.’

‘Marriage is a bit of an act of faith,’ Meredith agreed. ‘But I know some people who find it the best thing in their lives, and that makes me genuinely jealous.’ As they climbed out of the water, it occurred to her she’d never admitted that thought to herself before.

She’d just got as far as the edge, where the water was ankle-deep, when Nelly raced past her, doggy-paddling madly. Standing a few yards away on the riverbank stood Philippe, fishing rod in hand and a wickedly appreciative smile lighting up his olive-black eyes.

‘Mum! Mum! Wake up, Mum!’ Lara shook her mother gently.

Ronnie groaned and turned over.

‘I’ve brought you a coffee and everyone’s waiting for you!’

Fortunately, Steph had arrived as well, and her approach was rather less sympathetic. ‘For God’s sake, Ronnie, drink this coffee and get your arse downstairs,’ she ordered, ‘or I’m taking over the flower arranging.’

Ronnie sat up so quickly that the sheet fell off, revealing her ample breasts. Lara looked away, horrified.

‘What’s the matter with your generation?’ Ronnie demanded, narrowly escaping revealing her pubic hair for good measure. ‘I blame all this political correctness.’

‘Just drink the coffee and spare us the philosophizing. Remind me what flowers you’re actually doing?’

‘Three fabulously fantastic Old Master arrangements, and the bridal bouquet.’

‘That’s it? No table centrepieces and just as important, no buttonholes? Let alone decorating the wedding pavilion?’

Ronnie looked sullen. ‘I’m sure that’s all I was asked for.’

‘OK,’ Steph shrugged, trying to keep her temper on this special day. ‘We’d better raid the garden for the buttonholes and the centrepieces first. Let’s go!’

‘You are so bossy,’ accused Ronnie petulantly. ‘No wonder your husband left you!’

‘Mum!’ threw in Lara. ‘Stop behaving like a bitch and get out of bed. After all,’ she added provocatively, ‘you don’t want people to call you a lazy bitch, do you?’

Under Sophie’s efficient direction the giggling bridesmaids decorated the wedding pavilion and took over making six buttonholes, while Nicky picked simple garden flowers for the centrepieces.

‘Oh shit!’ Sophie suddenly exclaimed. ‘Where the hell are we going to find vases to put them in?’ She toyed for a moment with running to the kitchen to look just so that she could see Jean-Christophe, but he would be hideously busy.

‘Jam jars!’ beamed Nicky. ‘I’ve always liked the idea of unpretentious flowers in jam jars. I bet Auntie Steph’s got loads at the B&B.’