Ali reluctantly opens the door. She lets in my mum and my sister, Mandy. They both look as if they’ve just stepped off a roller coaster.

‘What’s wrong?’ I ask, turning around on my dressing-table stool.

‘Something has happened,’ my mum says solemnly.

‘What?’ I prompt. A dramatic build-up is a plot device, not an appropriate way of delivering bad news in real life.

Mandy steps to one side, to reveal my three-year-old niece, Ruby, standing behind her.

Ruby is my flower girl. She also insisted she wanted an up-do like her mum, so I had her golden blonde curls wrapped around a flower crown. I say ‘had’ because her crown appears to have vanished and her curls look so wild, I don’t know how we tamed them in the first place.

‘Oh, my God,’ I shriek, before placing one hand on my chest and the other over my mouth.

‘Sis, I’m so sorry,’ Mandy starts. ‘I left her in the gardens with June, but I suppose she was too busy swiping on bloody Tinder to keep an eye on her, and she got attacked by a bloody bee!’

‘It was on my head,’ Ruby explains sheepishly.

June is our nineteen-year-old cousin. I don’t think she’s looked up from her iPhone since she was fourteen. A terrible choice for a babysitter, for sure.

‘You all need to relax,’ I say, giving up my faux-devastated act. ‘It’s fine, Ruby looks beautiful as she is. I don’t care if she has a flower crown – she’s a kid, I’m surprised she kept it on this long.’

‘Lila Rose, what have I told you about being sarcastic?’ my mum ticks me off as she recovers from the fright.

I keep telling them all not to worry so much. I have all the bases covered. Nothing is going to go wrong today. I’m certainly not going to have a meltdown because a three-year-old can’t keep flowers in her hair.

‘Don’t you mean Lila Tyler?’ my sister says.

‘Lila Tyler,’ Ali says mockingly. ‘Lila Tyler, Lila Tyler.’

OK, I admit, it isn’t an ideal married name, and I’ve always been so fond of Lila Rose because it’s not only a beautiful name, but it sounds as if I was born to be a romance writer. But if Lila Tyler is what my new name is going to be, then that’s what it’s going to be. I may as well get used to it.

‘Well, crisis averted,’ I say. ‘Is it time to put my dress on yet?’

I am so excited to finally be able to wear my dress. Other than a few times trying it on, putting my hands in the pockets, dancing around in front of the mirror, I really don’t feel as if I’ve been able to enjoy it yet.

‘Yes,’ my mum replies. ‘Sorry, it’s in my room. I’ll go fetch it.’

‘And I’ll break a brush in this one’s hair,’ Mandy says, nodding towards Ruby.

‘I want my flowers,’ Ruby says.