That thing is a dress I would never have bought in a million years, or even tried on, for that matter. Long, flowy, and coral pink in color, it is in a style that Sophie refers to as “Bohemian Chic.”

When I look in the mirror after their efforts are exhausted, I actually gasp a little, and my mouth forms a wondrous O. My reflection is beautiful. I am beautiful. I see someone who looks in the throes of their youth.

I see life.

Mum takes one look and promptly bursts into theatrical tears.

“Oh, love,” she wails through sobs. I get the impression that if she had a handkerchief she’d be sobbing into it. Once a person has a taste for amateur dramatics it’s hard to let that go. “You’re absolutely stunning.”

“Thanks, Mum.”

“Seriously,” Amanda says. “You look like a model or something. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this good. Did you guys use paint or something?” She peers at my heavily contoured right cheek.

Sophie snorts.

Kate rolls her eyes. “Don’t listen to her.”

“She gets her looks from me, you know,” Mum says, nudging Nadia with an elbow. “And her smarts. And her even temperament. In fact, I’m not sure what her father contributed, really. Well, I know what he contributed, if you know what I mean.” She nudges Nadia again. “Shouldn’t you be writing all this down?”

“Oh, I record most of my interviews these days,” Nadia says. “Much easier and less likely to miss something. Then I can type it up later at my own leisure.” She looks at her watch. “Where on earth is that photographer?”

I notice a look pass between Kelly and Sophie but think nothing of it because my stomach has gone all queasy at the thought of posing for photos.

“I don’t think I can do this.”

“You can’t back out now,” Nadia says, a little too sharply. “This is our lead story for next week’s issue.”

“I’m not backing out.” I feel Amanda bristle protectively beside me. “I just need some air.”

“Oh, of course.” Nadia nods sympathetically. “Off you go. I need to speak to your mother and friends, anyway. Get their side of the story.”

Mum follows me out to the balcony. “Are you sure you’re OK? Are you in pain?”

“I’m fine,” I reassure her. “The pain is OK, nothing I can’t handle. I really do just need some air. Too many people in one small room. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

I give her an arched-eyebrows look. “Are you kidding? And miss out on being interviewed by your second favorite journalist?”

She winces. “I said that, didn’t I. I was star-struck. Didn’t think before I opened my mouth.”

Nadia’s voice calls out. “Mrs. Green? If you don’t mind I have some questions?”

Mum looks at me questioningly.

“Go,” I reassure her. “I’ll be back soon.”

She kisses me on the forehead and ducks back into the house. I wait until she’s gone, slip off my flat shoes, and head quietly for the stairs that lead down to the lawn.