‘Almost here,’ Amy says, taking the roundabout like she’s the only car on the road. Someone beeps. Amy presents them with the finger she keeps for these occasions. We both laugh as we eventually arrive and pull into one of the few parking spaces close to the shop. I feel happy again, excited. This is it. The last fitting. I’ll be taking the dress away with me tonight and leaving it at my dad’s house. I don’t want Lucas to see it before the big day. That could bring bad luck and there’s enough of that floating around at the moment.

‘I see your cousin Emily is already here,’ Amy says, noticing her car parked outside.

‘Great,’ I say.

‘I hope you’re still saying great when you see who’s with her.’

‘What do you mean? Who is with her?’ I stretch to try and see what Amy saw but all I can see is Emily. She’s talking to someone who has already gone through the door of the shop. But who could be with her? A dreadful possibility suddenly enters my head…

‘No!’

‘I’m afraid yes.’ Amy laughs, pushing open the door for me to enter first. I can’t believe Emily brought Aunt Rose along.

‘Well I guess I had to meet her sometime,’ I say, but I’m not at all happy about it. Rose is bound to say something to upset me, something about my dress or the colour of the bridesmaids’ dresses. She never could keep her opinion to herself.

When we get inside, Emily rushes over to us. Rose is sitting on a chair by the dressing rooms. She nods sheepishly at me. At least she doesn’t expect me to be all over her. I nod back while removing my jacket. The lady who owns the shop, Mrs Beth, is all buzzing and excited for me. She’s blabbing on about how beautiful I’m going to look as she brings my dress from the dressing room into the middle of the shop floor. My heart sticks in my throat. I’m going to cry, it’s so beautiful.

‘You’re up first,’ she says to me, bringing me into the big dressing room on the right. I look back at Emily and Amy who look as excited as I am. ‘Here goes.’

The dress is just what I wanted. I’m standing still, my eyes devouring the picture in the mirror in front of me when I feel a hand landing on my shoulder.