So what is this? Is there someone else involved, a woman maybe? I’m about to jokingly ask but before I get a chance to say anything he walks over to the vase in the middle of the kitchen table and tells me that Mrs Higgins from two doors down sent the bouquet to brighten the place up for the wedding. I’m biding my time before asking him if he knew Avril Ryan because I want to sound casual rather than jumping straight in like I’m working for the prosecution.

‘She mustn’t have had any faith in me,’ he says.

‘Well you’ve certainly done a good job, Dad, thanks.’

‘More cards have arrived.’ Dad takes a bundle from the table and hands them to me. I put them in my bag to open with Lucas later. Then I make my way upstairs to admire the great job he has done cleaning the bedroom that the bridesmaids and I will be getting ready in on Saturday morning. Amy and Emily will be arriving here at seven for breakfast and bubbles before the hairdresser arrives. The make-up girl is booked in for eleven. I hope she has time to do the three of us before the car arrives at one.

The dresses are hanging from the wall, where I left them. Taking a deep breath, I unzip the bag covering my dress and hold it open to look inside. My heart lifts with joy. It really is beautiful. My hand glides over the white lace and I feel a twinge of pain in my heart. I miss Mam. I wish she was here now. She’d love the dress. I know she would.

‘Do you need me to do anything else?’ Dad says.

‘No, everything looks perfect.’

Before going back downstairs, I check the second bathroom to make sure he waved his magic wand over that and I am not disappointed.

‘And your suit?’ I say.

‘Hanging up, ready to go. The only thing left for me to do is prepare my speech which I’ll have a go at later. You won’t be wanting anything too long?’ he says, following me down the stairs.

‘God no, just a few words Dad, and as I said before, only if you want to.’

Back in the kitchen, I’m checking the list on my iPhone, making sure I’m leaving nothing out when out of the blue my father asks, ‘Will Faye be at the wedding?’ He’s opening a cupboard and putting the polish inside. I’m completely shocked because my father has never mentioned Faye since the day my mother passed away.

‘Er, no, actually, I don’t really see Faye anymore.’

‘Ah that’s a pity,’ he says, but my curiosity doesn’t want to leave it at that.

‘Why are you asking about Faye?’