He squinted at his phone. Were those … doves? Surely Victoria hadn’t wanted doves?

‘Henry?’ Lily’s shaken voice called him back.

‘It’s OK,’ he said with a reassurance he was beginning most definitely to not feel. ‘It’s going to be fine. I just need a list of things that are going to be affected by this.’

‘I don’t know where to …’

‘Begin at the beginning. Whatever comes into your head. You said something about a wedding arch?’

She began to whine again and her hands were fluttering in panic. Like the doves.

God, please not the doves. How did that work anyway? Were they left to fly free or did some poor bastard have to run around trying to catch them? Henry suddenly had an image of himself halfway up a tree with a net trying to capture an elusive bird.

‘It’s fine – we’re going to fix this. I promise. You can trust me,’ he said, determined to do whatever it took to make this wedding whatever Lily wanted it to be.

They had driven off in Henry’s Jeep less than half an hour after Henry had revealed the news that had sent Lily into such a panic. She’d been numb at first, startled by her own level of shock at the wedding decorator’s cancellation. But then hopeful, when Henry had announced he’d found a place that should be able to help.

But the moment she’d taken one look at the bright pink, yellow and baby blue cheap plastic, she’d squealed again and had been ushered out of the store by Henry before she could burst into tears.

Back in the Jeep, the windows down, she let the swathes of air rushing in and teasing tendrils of her hair about her face cool her.

‘Breathe,’ Henry commanded. And she did.

‘And again,’ he prompted when she failed to take another inhalation. ‘I don’t understand why Victoria didn’t hire a wedding planner to deal with all this,’ he grumbled.

‘She didn’t need one. She has me,’ she said thankful that his reply wasn’t, And look how that turned out. He didn’t need to, because she was blaming herself enough as it was.

‘It’s not your fault, Lily,’ he said as if he could read her mind.

She puffed out a breath between pursed lips. ‘I know.’

‘Do you?’

‘Yes, Henry. I know that it’s not my fault that Jenny Langford went into early labour and is no longer able to fulfil her contract.’

She shifted in the seat of the battered old Jeep as she tried to remember all the things they would need for the wedding.

‘You know I’m going to have to see that mood board now, right?’ Henry teased.

‘Not going to happen,’ she replied without missing a beat.

‘Oh come on, please? Just a peek?’