Lauren and I are in her kitchen. She looks flawless with perfectly tonged hair and subtle make-up – always Instagram ready. The kitchen is huge, white, open-plan, modernly designed and magazine-shoot-worthy. There is a double oven and six-hob range, which she apologised for as soon as I arrived, saying the only things she knows how to work are the kettle and the toaster. She doesn’t pretend to be a domestic goddess – a chef brings their low-carb, low-fat meals to the house every few days. Her only real care for the wedding breakfast was that there was a decent vegan option. She let Mayra choose the rest, via me.

‘Can we do a selfie?’ she asks me. ‘We haven’t done one yet.’

‘Oh, OK,’ I say. Not seeing any harm in that.

She stands next to me and puts her face close to mine. Her head lands perfectly to the left, her cheekbones pop out as she pouts, her eyes squint as if she is looking a lover in the eye. I don’t know how she manages to make this photograph sexual, but she does. I wonder if she and Gavin are at it all the time. Two beautiful people, young, no kids. I bet if I went over this house with an infrared light there would be sperm everywhere.

‘Are you on Instagram?’ she asks me.

‘Not really. I mean, we have a work account and I post lovely images from our events. And I do have a personal one but that’s just for friends and family, I’m rarely on it.’

She isn’t really listening, typing away into her phone. ‘What’s the handle?’

It takes me a second to remember it; Risky does most of our social posts. ‘Um, @BFFWeddingConsultancy.’

‘OK, found you. BFF, does that stand for Best Friends Forever?’

‘Yes. When I started out people kept saying I was like their best friend, easy to talk to and to work with. I thought it was a nice title, to let people know it’s a friendly service,’ I tell her. I actually kind of regret the name of my business, it’s a bit silly. Also, I used to like being everyone’s best friend, but I didn’t intend for my husband to see me that way too.

‘It’s cute,’ Lauren says.

‘Thanks.’

She concentrates extremely hard for a second or two. ‘OK, tagged you. Let me know how many followers you get after that, I’m always interested to know. I posted about my friend Danny’s dog and she got so many replies she set up a page for the dog and he already has 402k followers. You should follow him, he’s at @DiggettyyDogetty. Funny.’

‘Cool,’ I say, ‘OK if I sit here?’

‘Sure.’