‘Sorry I took so long, darling,’ she announced. ‘But almost as many people will be looking at me as you!’

A sudden wave of pity for her appalling mother took Nicky by surprise. Someone really ought to tell her her appearance was only one step away from a drag queen’s.

‘So how do I look, Mum?’

‘Absolutely lovely, darling. All brides look beautiful.’ Being Ronnie, she couldn’t resist the qualification. ‘Apart from the bouquet. I’d have done a lot better with that.’

Nicky caught her sister’s eye. They both knew their mother couldn’t praise without finding a fault, but Nicky decided that by some miracle of survival, she didn’t give a damn. ‘Right, Dad, let’s go for it!’ She tucked her hand into his arm. ‘And thank you so much for footing the bill for everything.’

‘What greater thrill can a father have than seeing his daughter get married to a decent man? And he is a decent man, isn’t he?’

Without a second’s hesitation, Nicky smiled back at her father. ‘Yes, Dad, he’s a lot more than decent. He’s lovely.’

They walked slowly down the beautiful grand staircase with Lara carefully holding on to her sister’s train, out through the orangery and into the walled garden at the side of the house where Margot had carefully tended her roses, and onto the open patch of green. The wedding pavilion, decked with flowers by Lara and the bridesmaids, was at the far end, with the guests ranged in rows either side of an aisle space.

Martin, flanked by his best man, stood in front of the pavilion waiting and watching her progress as she waved and smiled at her friends and relatives.

Finally she was there.

‘Nicola and Martin,’ the celebrant announced, ‘we are all gathered in this lovely place to hear you pledge yourselves to each other, that you may have a long and happy life together.’ She turned first to Nicky. ‘Nicola, will you share with us what you hope for from this marriage?’

Nicky looked at her list. She had spent hours if not days compiling it, admittedly with a little help from other people’s vows she’d read online. How much respect she would have for him as an individual, the joy she found in his laughter, the strength he gave her when she most needed it, and even, rather daringly, the pleasure she found in his touch.

But standing there, looking directly into his eyes, she just remembered the corny but simple message on the card she had sent to Sophie, and that was what she repeated now.

‘Martin, I want to be with you all my life because you know exactly what I’m like – and you still love me.’

In the front row, something made Steph turn her head. She caught sight of David, who sat watching her a couple of rows behind.