‘I can’t believe this is happening, Kat.’

‘Me neither. It’s surreal isn’t it?’ I look around at her room. The George in Hathersage. Right beside the little church they’ll marry in and the only place she could book that would let her have the entire hotel for the whole weekend. Like she’s some kind of celebrity. Plus, Lou has plans to walk the long route back to the hotel, via the village, as opposed to the little pathway that leads straight between the two. Not that she was keen to draw attention to herself at all. Not for a second.

She pulls out her overnight bag, which may as well be a suitcase, and starts taking out all the things she needs for tomorrow: products for the hairdresser, her own designer make-up for the make-up artist, lotions and potions to lift, separate, smell nice and glisten. I look in my own bag: toothbrush, toothpaste, Bio-Oil for my face and a few discarded toothpicks.

‘You okay?’ she asks me.

‘Course.’ I smile, knocking back the fizz and pouring us both some more. ‘Just setting the alarm. Are you sure we need to be up at six?’

‘Absolutely. And when I say are you okay, I mean are you okay?’

‘Yes. I’m fine. We are all set; I’m looking forward to tomorrow. This is your big day – I can’t wait to be part of it.’

‘I know but…’ She wrinkles her nose. ‘I don’t want you feeling shit because it’s not you, you know?’

‘My, Lou, you have a real empathetic take on this.’

She smacks me. ‘You know what I mean. Not that long ago, this was going to be a forerunner to you getting married. He was supposed to be here.’

‘I know, I know. But he’s not.’ I take a sip of the champagne. ‘And I’m fine with that. In fact, I’m glad.’

‘Really?’

‘Really, Lou.’ She eyes me up. ‘I’m a new woman,’ I say, taking my glasses off and putting them on the table. ‘It’s not just these and the hair that’s changed.’

‘I totally love it,’ she says, running her fingers through my new cropped pixie do.

‘Are you sure you don’t hate me for having it cut off before your big day?’

‘Nope. You look like you’ve found yourself, and I like it,’ she says. ‘You look smoking!’

‘Thanks. I feel… Well, I feel like I’m just beginning to learn who I am.’

‘I can tell you,’ she says, clinking my glass, ‘you are my amazing, brilliant, smart, funny, kind friend, with a sparkling career and total control over your future.’ I top up her glass. ‘And I’m set to become an old married witch who anticipates feeling all jealous of this independent you and the fun you’re going to have! Now pass me the chocolate.’

I slice my nail into the gold wrapper and the sea salt and caramel smell wafts through the air. ‘I’ve never thought of myself as an independent woman before,’ I say, popping a piece in my mouth.‘Well, you are, and I love you,’ she says, wrestling the box off me.