‘You’re clever too,’ she said, though lately she’d wondered if that were true. If Gilly were clever, why was her only plan to marry Brian and settle down in a semi-detached right here in Hertford? Didn’t she want to get out? See what the rest of the world had to offer? Sylvia felt full to the brim with it: the urge to leave where she grew up and forge her own path.

‘Well, we all know where you’ll be, Gills,’ Fiona said.

‘His parents are meeting mine tonight. We’re all going out to dinner to celebrate.’ Gilly beamed. She hadn’t stopped fiddling with her ring all afternoon.

‘What are you going to wear?’

‘I went shopping with Mum the other day and got this lovely green dress. It’s sophisticated, you know. And it shows off my boobs.’ She jiggled her breasts and the others giggled, even Maggie, though Sylvia caught all she needed to know about Maggie’s opinion of Gilly’s engagement from a briefly arched eyebrow and a loaded glance in her direction. They’d always been able to communicate silently – a sort of telepathy honed over ten years of sitting next to each other at school.

‘Are you sure this is what you want?’ Sylvia picked at a daisy and twirled it in her fingers. ‘I mean, what’s the rush?’

A flash of annoyance passed across Gilly’s face. ‘Of course it is. We’ve been together two whole years, why would we wait any longer?’

‘Oh, I don’t know, because there might be other more exciting—’

Maggie elbowed her arm. Don’t, she mouthed. ‘Well, good for you, Gills. I love a wedding. All that cake and champagne.’

‘And the dishy waiters.’ Tracey was lying on the grass staring up at the sky. ‘My sister said they’re right goers, waiters at weddings. She worked at one once and said they had a bet going to see who could get off with a bridesmaid.’ She rolled on her side and looked at Gilly. ‘Can I be a bridesmaid?’

Fiona laughed. ‘Slapper!’

‘Just an opportunist,’ Tracey grinned. ‘Well, how about it, Gills?’

‘Er, well, I’ll have to see.’ Gilly’s voice was shrill. ‘I know Brian’s sisters have to be in the wedding party so I don’t know how many more bridesmaids I can have.’ She waved her hand. ‘Anyway, back to the topic in hand.’

‘What was that?’ Fiona said.

‘Our futures! Predicting where we’ll all end up! I think we should write it down.’ She fished around in her bag and pulled out a pen and a school textbook, tearing off the back to write on. ‘Won’t be needing that anymore,’ she trilled. ‘Right. So, Fiona: lumberjack.’

‘Is that it? Is that all you predict for me?’

‘Well, for the moment. How about Maggie – bank teller?’

‘That’s not a prediction, that’s a fact!’ Fiona laughed.