The walls and roof above, comprised of glass panels sunk into thick iron leadwork, were stunning enough, but decorated with bows of ivy and baby’s breath and white trailing roses carried over from the ceremony and into the orangery made it feel as if this was a magical garden, rich and alive. Ten tables made from reclaimed scaffolding board added a rustic beauty to the scene. The hurricane lamps Henry had bought – bright with glorious white candles glowing beside jam jars with even more baby’s breath – made Lily smile. She would always think of him when she saw them. She knew that now.

The seating plan was resting on the large aged wine barrels and a hand-painted sign welcomed each of the guests to the wedding breakfast.

The conversation swelled as people took their places and uniformed waiting staff poured wine and Reserve when they were seated. Lily followed Victoria and Ollie and their parents up to the table that ran along the tops of four long others. She quickly checked the numbers and located where she might direct the wedding cakes to be placed at the end of the meal.

‘Stop working,’ Victoria mock growled, taking Lily by the crook of her arm, making her smile.

‘Can’t help it.’

‘Seriously, have you thought about wedding planning?’

‘What, if my restaurant doesn’t work out?’ Lily demanded in horror.

‘No,’ Victoria said, laughing. ‘As well as. Kate and Vihaan,’ she nodded to where they sat amongst the guests, ‘seem to have it pretty much under control. And you’re so good at it. Just look at this, it’s breathtaking.’ Awe was shining from her voice.

‘It really is, Lily,’ Ollie chimed in. ‘We can’t thank you enough,’ he said, slinging an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his side.

Lily beamed under the praise and tried to ignore her usual inclination to shrug off the compliment. Instead, she let it sit, let the suggestion sit. Because as much as it had been stressful at times, she’d really enjoyed this. Enjoyed putting together something she knew would be perfect for the bride and groom. Realized how much pleasure she got from the joy and happiness felt by the guests who were busy on their phones snapping photos of the table decorations and the orangery and taking selfies. It was almost the same feeling as when she had first cooked dinner for her mum.

Everyone took their seats and Stella and Victoria’s mother bonded over how appalling it was that people were drinking their sparkling wine before the speeches.

‘You’d better start, dear,’ Ellen said finally, turning to her husband who was even more watery-eyed than before – if that was possible.