So, yes, while I have researched flowers, cakes and dresses, and tweaked them accordingly (pockets! Honestly, this is going to be a game changer), I don’t just know what this wedding needs, I know what it doesn’t need too. Obsessing over what flavour frosting to have is rather silly – that’s just the icing on the cake. What you should be worrying about are the things that are out of your control.

I have essentially reverse-engineered every single wedding I’ve ever written, to make sure that my real wedding is perfect. It’s kind of a genius move.

I know for a fact that Daniel’s Auntie Susan and his Auntie Carole hate each other – and I mean hate each other. I also know that Ali would flip out if she knew that Alex, her ex-boyfriend, had been invited to the wedding. But thanks to my choice of venue – and, more specifically, room – they’ll probably never see each other. I know that neither of his aunties likes to dance and I’ve put them at opposite ends of the room, with multiple pillars blocking their view of each other. The same strategy will work for Ali and Alex, although I have had to get a little creative with some balloons to keep him out of her sight. So, he might not have the best view of the speeches, but he’d thank me if he knew it was saving him from having to pick pieces of his jaw out of his salmon. And then it’s only a matter of time. Once Ali has had enough to drink, and my girl drinks, she won’t even recognise him – hell, she’ll probably try and flirt with him.

There’s a knock on the hotel door. I glance over at Ali, who looks back at me expectantly.

‘Erm, can you open it?’ I ask her.

She pulls a face, like a lazy teenager who doesn’t want to tidy their room. You’d never know she was a hugely successful literary agent (although not mine, I hasten to add).

‘I’m in my underwear still,’ I point out.

I’ve had my hair and make-up done, now I’m just waiting for my mum to turn up with my dress. Ali is completely ready; she isn’t going to flash anyone if she answers the door. Although I suspect she might if they were hot.

‘Fine, fine,’ she replies, carefully pulling herself to her feet in her bridesmaid dress. She looks absolutely smoking in the bright red dress she selected for herself to wear today. Her long blonde hair extensions cost more than my mobile phone, but I can’t help but marvel at how real they look. My own real long blonde hair definitely looks real, but not in the way you’d want it to – it’s more like the kind of real where a little sunshine or rain will make it fizz up like a bath bomb, which is why I’ve opted for one sleek-looking fishtail plait today.

During the wedding planning stage there was this whole conversation, involving some of our friends, about whether or not it was appropriate to wear a bright red dress to a wedding – especially if you were a bridesmaid. I just wanted my bridesmaids to be happy and if Ali wanted to wear a red dress, then I wanted her to wear a red dress too. I’m sure I should be in tears, worrying about my wedding aesthetic, or that my friend might upstage me, but I’m not. I’m just happy.