‘She’s desperate for you to come, they all are,’ I lied. ‘What makes you think Sumi doesn’t like you?’

‘Besides the Facebook message she sent me telling me to fuck myself up my own arse with a cheese grater the last time we were dating?’ he replied.

I pressed my lips together as I tried to come up with a positive way to frame that.

‘Well, you don’t have Facebook any more,’ I reasoned. ‘And she’s a lot more friendly these days.’

‘If it’s important to you, I’ll come.’ He lifted the armrest between us and wound his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in towards him. ‘As long as it’s OK with the birthday girl.’

‘It’s more than OK,’ I promised, sinking into my seat and resting my head on his shoulder and smiling. Future plans. Future plans with friends. ‘Thank you.’

He kissed the top of my head as the curtains parted, the movie began with everyone speaking in German and my heart flew so high, not even the prospect of four hours of subtitles could bring it down.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

‘What about this one?’

My mother stepped out of the John Lewis changing room, a big smile on her face and not a lot of dress on her body.

‘I love it,’ she said as she tugged the already plunging neckline so far south, I could almost see her caesarean scar. ‘What do you think?’

‘It’s a beautiful colour,’ I replied, casting my eyes to the heavens.

If I’d tried to leave the house wearing the same frock fifteen years earlier, my father would have sent me out with a bin bag duct-taped to my body. It was nearly neon pink with slinky spaghetti straps that ran from her shoulders, all the way down her back until the fabric decided to at least have a go at being a dress, coming together just in time to cover her arse. It was Smirnoff Ice turned into an outfit. A dress that said ‘I give no fucks’ while proving that sometimes, just sometimes, it was necessary to give at least one or two.

‘It’s very slimming.’ She turned to the side and ran her hand over her stomach. ‘And your dad loves it when I wear pink. I’ve got this satin nightie teddy that’s just this shade.’

I squeezed the sides of my second giant iced coffee so hard the lid popped off.

‘Don’t take this the wrong way,’ I said as she tested the limitations of the dress with a quick burst of the pony. ‘But do you really think it’s appropriate for a second wedding? I know it’s not a normal big-white-frock affair but it’s still a relatively formal occasion, isn’t it?’

Mum reached around to the back of the dress, scrabbling for the price tag and both her boobs fell out.