His baggy grey suit was trying too hard to be casual, with its oversized buttons and patch pockets, and the white shirt underneath it was left open at the neck, exposing a V of suspiciously tanned skin. He was too used to being handsome, the extra power it brought to his already bulging portfolio. He wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.

As my eyes flicked away then, I spotted her, a last-minute arrival slipping through the church gate. She was gripping the hand of a lanky man with greying curls, leading him towards the milling crowd. I froze with shock, then knew I had to get away from them.

‘I’m just going to run to the loo,’ I gabbled. ‘I don’t want to need to go when we’re by the font,’ I carried on, my legs carrying me towards the church before any of them had time to reply.

I sat on the closed wooden seat for far longer than I had time for, my heart thumping in my chest. She was here. She was actually here. How could she turn up like this? I could hear people streaming into the church now. They’d be looking for me soon.

The first thing I saw as I emerged was the smiling moon of my little sister Sophie’s face. Normally I’d have been thrilled to lay eyes on her, but shock still gripped me like a vice. She grabbed my arm.

‘There you are – I’ve been in here sorting out the orders of service. You’re meant to be at the font!’

‘Yeah, no. I know that,’ I said.

Sophie would be the world’s worst professional poker player. The light in her hazel eyes dimmed as soon as she heard my tone, her round body slumping with disappointment. She wanted so much for me to see the world through her rose-tinted glasses: she literally wore them – glasses at least – round ones, with wire frames, which added to her nerdy cuteness. Life had flowed for Sophie with an ease it never had for me. She was the adored late surprise baby, petted and fought over by all of us. She’d sailed through school, then met a boyfriend she adored at university, who’d put a ring on it by the time she was twenty-five. I could see him now, his head, with its thinning crown of ginger hair, swivelling around from his spot on the front row to seek her out. Toby wasn’t the most exciting choice, but he made her happy.

‘Are you okay, Rachel?’

My eyes roved around the church, my sister’s words no more than background noise. Esther was sat halfway back on the end of a row, the curly-haired man’s hand a long-legged spider that entrapped hers.