“Not you, though.” Barbara rounded on me. “Whenever you come to me, it’s ivory or a champagne gold for you. That pasty pink skin of yours won’t take anything else.” She pointed at me like my pasty pink skin offended her.

“Cheers,” I said, “but I won’t be getting married.”

“Why not?” She twisted her face, personally offended by my rejection of marriage. “Sure the lesbians can get married now.”

“How do you know I’m a lesbian?”

I shouldn’t have been surprised. This was Barb. She was wise and also psychic apparently.

“Oh, wisht. You think you can work in the business of love this long and not get some of that gaydar? I’ve known some brides in my day who shouldn’t have been marrying grooms, that’s for sure. You still get the odd one here and there who doesn’t know it yet, poor dears. I try and give them a hint, you know, subtle, Would you not like a nice pantsuit, dear. That sort of thing.”

“Truly you are doing God’s work, Barb.”

Barbara nodded sagely and tapped her nose.

“But I don’t think a wedding is for me anyway,” I went on. “The whole till death do us part? Bit ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“Oh, death schmeath,” Barbara tutted. “How about life’s too short to be second-guessing yourself the whole way? You can only go with what you feel right now and if you feel like it might make you happy, even for a while, jump in with both feet, girl, and get wet.”

I eyed Barb curiously. Was she that good at reading people or did she spout off wisdom all the time and this just happened to be exceptionally relevant to my interests?

Just then Beth emerged from the changing booth and we stopped talking. The dress was pure white with a boat neck and lace that draped off her shoulders. It hugged her waist and hips and then flared out at the knee. When she turned around, there were tiny silk-covered buttons about three-quarters of the way up her back. It really was beautiful.

Beth looked in the mirror and caught my eye in the glass.

“This is it,” she said, “this is the one.”

Barbara nodded approvingly, “See, I told you I’d know exactly what you needed.”

We left the shop exclaiming about how weird and wonderful Barb was, so I didn’t notice her until it was too late. She didn’t notice me because she had stopped dead in the middle of the street to rummage in her bag. That’s how I literally walked into Izzy on the path outside a wedding dress shop.

“Oh, Saoirse,” she said, after we’d both rebounded and exchanged the “I didn’t see you there, stranger” sorrys and realized who we were saying sorry to.