‘Yes, it does,’ I said, encouragingly.

‘Would you ladies like some champagne?’ the consultant asked.

‘Yes, we would,’ I said, encouragingly.

‘They say it’s free but you know you end up paying for that,’ Mum said, still making eyes at herself in the mirror as the consultant drifted away. ‘I can’t begin to imagine how much this dress costs.’

‘It’s four hundred quid and you’re buying it,’ I told her. ‘You look amazing, Dad’s going to die.’

‘He does like a bit of cleavage,’ she replied, juggling her boobs in the front of the frock. ‘But I don’t know.’

‘Mum,’ I said in my most serious voice. ‘Does this dress make you feel like your most fabulous, wonderful, complete self?’

She pouted and tied her hair up into a loose topknot.

‘It’s four hundred pounds, daughter.’

‘And aren’t you worth four hundred pounds?’

A hint of a smile appeared at the edges of her mouth.

‘You can always save some cash by not having bridesmaids,’ I suggested. ‘I for one am prepared to make that sacrifice.’

‘So generous, Rosalind,’ she said, looking back at me in the mirror. ‘Fine. I’ll get it.’

I dipped into a low bow, catching sight of my knackered trainers.

‘You’re going to need shoes,’ I said as the consultant returned with our champagne. ‘Do you have shoes?’

‘Of course,’ she replied smoothly. ‘What size?’

‘She’s a four,’ I said, taking a sip from my glass and kicking back in a particularly comfortable armchair while Mum continued to make love eyes at herself in the mini hall of mirrors.

My work was done.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Once I’d put Mum back on the train with her dress, a beautiful pair of not-stripper shoes and, god forbid, some tasteful lingerie, I moved on to the next task at hand, Sumi’s birthday.

‘This is going to be the best party she’s ever had,’ I told Adrian, marching purposefully down the street from the bus stop with a bouquet of birthday balloons in my hand. ‘I’m deadly serious, she’s going to enjoy herself if it kills her.’

‘Someone spent an entire day with her mother,’ he replied, skipping to keep up. ‘Where’s Patrick then?’

‘Meeting us later,’ I said, pushing down the excitement that bubbled up in my belly. ‘He had to work today.’

‘Work?’

‘Write,’ I clarified. ‘He’s on a deadline for a book he’s writing. It’s about his travels in South-East Asia, it’s amazing.’

‘Hmm.’ Adrian jumped as a very big mouse or, more likely, a reasonable-sized rat scampered out in front of us. ‘For Christ’s sake, woman, where exactly are we going?’