I found myself nodding and it could have been because of the beautiful jewellery, but I was fairly certain it had more to do with the kind look on the jeweller’s face. Diamonds might be a girl’s best friend, but I needed a friend far more than I needed a diamond.

‘We have a lovely selection of headpieces that would look stunning with your gown,’ the jeweller suggested as I surreptitiously dropped my empty popcorn bag into his bin. He opened up one of the cases and produced a black velvet tray holding several bejewelled tiaras. ‘What do you think?’

‘This one?’ I said, pointing at the closest one.

‘You have an excellent eye.’ He held up the delicate silver-toned circle, curved to fit the crown of the head, and studded with diamonds and pearls. ‘A platinum band with fourteen natural, saltwater pearls and five carats of white diamonds.’

He crossed from behind the counter and pushed it carefully into place, the band disappearing into my hair as he fastened it in with unseen clips, leaving the diamonds and pearls sparkling in the light as though they were part of me.

‘Well, I don’t hate this,’ I said, staring in wonder at my reflection in the mirror. Maybe if I mortgaged the house, sold my car, maxed out mine and Stew’s credit cards, and pledged the soul of my firstborn child, perhaps, perhaps then I’d have enough to give him a down payment.

‘How about something in a choker, to set off the neckline of the dress?’ the jeweller suggested.

Mirror Fran gazed back at me, all made up, perfect hair, perfect dress, and now with added diamonds. I looked as good as I could ever remember looking, like someone who belonged at the Crystal Ball, rather than a stalled thirty-two-year-old with no job prospects, who lived in a damp nana museum with someone who may or may not be shagging his ex-girlfriend. It was such a shame she wasn’t real.

‘How about a statement ring,’ the jeweller said, eyeing my bare fingers. ‘What do you think about this?’

He held up a knuckleduster of a ruby set in a giant hunk of gold that even Thanos would written off as a bit much.

‘Do you have anything a bit more understated?’ I asked.

‘I know just the thing,’ he said, reaching for a small black velvet tray at the back of the closest cabinet and pushing it across the counter towards me.

‘Vintage Cartier,’ he said with hushed reverence. ‘One of my favourite pieces.’

It was a beautiful sapphire and diamond ring that looked delicate and strong at the same time. So far removed from my mum’s plain wedding band or Nana Beryl’s diamond flower engagement ring.

‘Art Deco, platinum-mounted, claw-set sapphire with baguette-cut diamonds on the halo. A real forever piece, you must try it.’

But I couldn’t.