First, the topic of conversation turns to the wedding, as it always does.

‘We think we might have finally sorted out the seating arrangements,’ she says, suddenly producing a sheet of paper from the depths of her bag and thrusting it at me. ‘What do you think? It should keep everyone happy, although there’s probably something I’ve missed.’

‘It looks good,’ I say. ‘Well done. Must be a load off your mind.’

‘It’s one load off it, yes. Plenty more where that came from, though. Just you wait until it’s your turn. Shit. Sorry. That was insensitive. But no-one tells you how much people try to interfere and offer their thoughts and opinions all the time, even though they’re telling you it’s fine, it’s your decision, it’s your day, it’s what you want that counts. But if you could just make sure this, that and this happens, everyone would be awfully grateful.’

I want to tell her that at least her fiancé is going to turn up on the day and not leave her with a fully-planned and mostly-paid-for wedding, not to mention a broken heart. I can’t begrudge Cath feeling stressed out about it all, though. And I certainly can’t begrudge her a lifetime of happiness.

Maybe a small part of her is acutely aware of the Matt situation and perhaps she’s a bit worried the same might happen to her. She and Ben are devoted to each other, and it’s never going to happen, but it’s the sort of thing that would make anyone worry — even if only at the very back of their mind.

‘Seriously, the thing I’ve learnt is to just nod and smile,’ Cath says, as I realise she’s going off on one of her reflective ramblings. ‘Most of the time they forget the stuff they’ve mentioned anyway. They just want to suggest something, anything that makes them feel useful in some way, when what you actually want is to say “Bugger off and let me get on with it”, but you can’t say that because it’s a wedding and everyone’s meant to be happy and relaxed and everything’s joyous and wonderful. I’ll tell you what. There’s a reason why people who get married a second time choose a cheap registry office and a reception in the pub afterwards. Sometimes I wish we’d decided to do that this time. You still end up with a ring on your finger and a certificate in your hand. And that way you’ve got an extra fifteen grand in your back pocket, too.’

‘It’s not all about money, though, is it?’ I say. ‘It’s meant to be the biggest day of your life. You want to do it properly. No-one remembers the credit card bill twenty or thirty years down the line. They remember the photos, the event, the glamour. I know it’s hard work now, but it’ll all be worth it in the end.’

‘So they keep telling me.’

It’s strange seeing Cath like this. She doesn’t tend to do stress. She’s always the calm, level-headed one who is able to see both sides in any argument and always latches on to the positivity in all situations. She’s not the sort of person to lose her head over something like this. I decide it might be best to change the subject.