I check my watch and see that Becky wasn’t wrong. I’ve only got five minutes until my next appointment. I head to the fridge and take out the Ziploc bag with my cream cheese bagel. Becky nods approvingly as I take a bite and chew without tasting, my mind still on my sister-in-law.

Four

THEN

The seventeenth-century stone chapel is full to bursting with all our friends and family. It’s mainly Toby’s large extended family, but that’s okay. They’re about to become my family too. My normally straight dark hair has been curled and swept off my face, held back with the pearl comb that belonged to my mother. My ivory lace dress is fitted at the bodice, and flares out slightly at the hem, the whole ensemble studded through with seed pearls. I’m standing at the back of the chapel as though in a dream.

‘You sure you’re okay, Zo?’ Becky gives me a worried glance as Lou straightens out my tulle wedding train.

It takes a few seconds to realise she’s talking to me. It’s sweltering in here. Forget the fact that it’s December, and that outside it’s threatening to snow. Here in the little chapel the walls are lined with piping-hot radiators, and the air is thick with body heat and CO2. I can barely breathe. I should have considered the temperature of the venue beforehand. Should have made sure it was a little cooler inside. It’s clear the congregation are finding it uncomfortable too, with top layers already discarded over laps and seat backs, and the order-of-service cards being used as makeshift fans.

I wipe the sweat from my top lip and forehead, wishing this dress weren’t quite as tightly fitted. The bump on the back of my head is throbbing, my brain is fuzzy and there’s the distinct possibility that I may throw up. ‘I’m fine,’ I whisper back. I decided not to tell anyone else about my fainting episode as I didn’t want my big day to be overshadowed by everyone talking about it. Toby and his family agreed to keep quiet about it too.

‘It’s just’ – Becky’s forehead creases – ‘you’re quite pale. I mean, you look stunning, of course, but… you don’t seem yourself.’

‘She’s getting married,’ Lou hisses, smoothing her dark hair. ‘It’s a big day, of course she’s not going to be herself. It’s nerve-wracking. And you talking about it isn’t likely to help.’

Becky glares at her. ‘It doesn’t hurt to ask. I’m just worried about my friend, that’s all.’

‘Um, she’s my friend too.’

‘Well, if she’s such a good friend, you’d have noticed that she’s paler than normal, don’t you think?’