‘Maybe you’ve caught Nina’s bug,’ her mother said. ‘Terribly unlucky.’

Alice glanced at Nina. She was staring out of the window, across Place de la Concorde.

She’d looked terrible when she arrived but fortunately the make-up artist had returned her to her natural pallor. She looked beautiful, of course, she always did, and Alice felt a frisson of pride at having Nina, Jules and Lulu by her side today, in deep-emerald asymmetrical gowns with a gold piping trim. Jules looked stunning; she’d had her eyes lasered recently and no longer wore glasses and the medication for her skin was working wonders. It looked so clear and fresh, almost flawless. Alice gazed down at the black-and-white tiles of Le Crillon and felt thankful. Grateful to this building for bringing Jules and Nina into her life.

Time passed at a dizzying pace: hair, make-up, photographs. Soon she was back in the ballroom of Le Crillon, facing Ted. This was it.

Ted was ashen grey. She smiled at him meaningfully, a sign of forgiveness for his going out last night. He was nervous about his speech, she knew, but he needn’t be; he was a natural orator.

‘I do,’ she said, but it was just a formality: no one else knew that Alice and Ted had legally married last week in London (which saved a whole lot of bother in legal requirements) except for her parents, who had acted as witnesses. They’d all agreed to keep it quiet to preserve the sense of romance for the occasion. And then, voilà, it was done.

*

The dance floor throbbed with life as Nina wound her way through it. She had grown angrier – and increasingly intoxicated – as the day wore on, vexed and coarse, swearing and muttering to herself as she fake-smiled at the photos (for fuck’s sake), at the little pageboy in tails who asked her to dance with him to the string quartet while they milled around before dinner (little prick), and after Ted’s speech (cunt, cunt, cunt). She wasn’t sure whether they were audible or not, but as the champagne flowed she cared less and less. The only thing that was making her smile genuinely was the tiny nervous glances Ted would shoot in her direction.

She was drunk enough to convince herself that what she’d done wasn’t that bad.

I fucked Ted because I am a woman and I am a sexual being and I have needs, she thought to herself in the restroom’s gilded mirror. I needed him and he needed me and – Wow. Even the walls are marble in this place… She ran a finger along the surface, simultaneously thinking you are really drunk.

Her mind slipped and rewound as she sashayed on the dance floor: But what about Alice? Alice, Alice. Your best friend Alice—

No. No. No. Nina wrestled the thought away as she knocked back the rest of her drink and threw her empty champagne flute behind her. ‘Hey!’ someone shouted, but she shrugged and carried on dancing.