Alison turned back to the marble sink and finished rinsing her hands while trying to find the right words. She didn’t want to offend Sarah but the last time somebody had said, ‘I used to be fat’ to her, it turned out that they’d gained half a stone and ‘ballooned’ from a size eight to a ten. Hardly the ‘obese’ category into which Alison fell on those hideous height-weight charts. She turned off the taps and wiped her hands on a sumptuous cream guest towel.

‘I lost five stone,’ Sarah said.

No! Alison spun around to face Sarah. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘How?’ She tossed the towel into the laundry basket.

‘I dumped my useless boyfriend. I was a comfort eater so I needed to get rid of what was causing me discomfort. With Jason gone, I didn’t need to turn to chocolate, cake or kebabs so the weight came off. And I go running on the beach. Never thought I’d get into that.’ She smiled gently. ‘Are you a comfort eater?’

Alison shrugged. ‘I think I’m just an eater. Full stop.’

‘Do you want to lose weight?’

Alison shrugged again. ‘I’m not sure.’

‘If you’re happy, then don’t change a thing. Personally, I think you’re amazing exactly as you are.’ Sarah paused and cocked her head to one side. ‘But people who are happy don’t usually hide in the toilets, troughing chocolate. Remember, I’ve been there, done that. I know it doesn’t help.’

‘It’s fine. I’m fine. I just…’ Alison voice cracked and she shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. Who was she kidding? ‘I hate the way I look, Sarah. I hate the way I feel. I hate the way other people make me feel, like that little girl just now. Yet I can’t seem to stop eating. What’s wrong with me?’ Tears tumbled down her flushed cheeks.

Sarah held her arms out and Alison gratefully accepted the hug. She was used to Dave’s grumpiness and could usually laugh off incidents like the one at reception. Just not today. She clung onto Sarah as sobs wracked her body.

‘Thank you,’ she said when she’d calmed down.

Sarah nodded. ‘Anytime. If and when you’re ready, I’d love to help you.’

Alison wiped at her smudged mascara. ‘Thanks, but I think I’m a lost cause.’

‘No, you’re not. I believe in you. You just have to believe in yourself. You can do this, Ali.’

Someone believed in her? For that brief moment, Alison felt inspired. ‘Okay. You’re on.’ She removed another chocolate bar from her blazer pocket and handed it to Sarah. ‘Amnesty time.’ She could do this. She really could.

‘Chelsea told me what anniversary it is,’ Sarah said. ‘I’m so sorry. I remember it happening. You must have been quite young.’

‘Twelve.’