I took the dress off its hanger and stepped into the bodice, careful not to tread on the tulle as I pulled it up over my arse. Rachel fastened the single shoulder strap and I looked up at my reflection in the mirror. My mouth fell open. When Jess went shopping, she was always searching for the outfit that would most clearly communicate who she was and who she wanted to be, the pair of shoes that told the world who she knew she was, deep inside. I, on the other hand, considered my clothes camouflage. Simple, neutral, don’t look at me. This was something else entirely. I hadn’t just put on a different dress, I’d stepped into a different life. Gone was the girl who wore beige bras and sensible cardigans, and in her place was a glamorous, confident, beautiful woman. She was the kind of person who didn’t worry about things like how far she might end up walking before deciding which shoes to wear. The woman who wore this dress never ran all the way back home from the bus stop to make sure she’d turned the central heating off because the bill wasn’t going to pay itself. A legion of friends hung on her every word, her boyfriends adored her, and it was someone else’s job to make sure there was toilet paper in the bathroom before she sat down to pee.

‘Look at you,’ Rachel grinned. ‘This is it, this is your dress.’

It fit, just. Juliette and I were close in size, if not in shape. The bodice was a touch on the snug side, but if we didn’t tie the shoulder strap too tightly and I didn’t bother with breathing, I was fairly sure I could get away with it.

‘I don’t think I dare move,’ I said, resting my hands lightly on either side of my waist. ‘I’m scared it’ll rip.’

‘It’s stronger than it looks,’ Rachel replied wisely. ‘And it’s perfect. You and this dress were meant to be.’ She pulled my hair away from my face, lifting it up and back, sharpening my cheekbones.

I laughed, a short hysterical giggle I couldn’t control, as I pulled away, my hair falling back down around my shoulders.

‘I don’t believe in all that,’ I told her. ‘Nothing’s meant to be.’

‘Call it what you want,’ she said with a shrug. ‘But something special is happening between you and that frock.’

I looked back at my reflection and straightened my shoulders as I met my own eyes. The dress deserved better than slouching. Rachel clapped her hands twice and started to unhook the fastening at my shoulder, my heart swooping low as it fell away from my body.

‘No need for a face like that,’ she said. ‘It’s time for you to take a shower and then you can put it back on.’