I probably should have considered the fact that despite being my two best friends, my bridesmaids aren’t exactly the best of friends with one another, which is one of the main reasons I didn’t ask them to stay over at the hotel with me last night. All they’ve done since they arrived this morning is bicker. I’m not sure why they’re so antagonistic. They don’t even know each other that well. I went to school with Lou Schiavone and I get the feeling she’s a little jealous of my newer friendship with my work friend Becky Webb. But I shouldn’t even be thinking about that right now. This is my wedding day. Not the time to be dealing with friend issues.

My sister Dina should have been here with me as well, but she said she left it too late to get a flight back from Thailand. So here I am with Becky and Lou as my bridesmaids.

Maybe it’s just as well Dina couldn’t make it. Especially as things were so shaky the last time I spoke to her. Although that’s an understatement. My sister and I have a complicated relationship. One that I really don’t want to dwell on right now.

My stomach flips as the wedding march starts up. I’ve been looking forward to this moment for months. I give a start as my dad takes my arm. My bridesmaids set aside their differences for the time being and pick up my train between them. I fight the urge to turn around and check if they’re okay. But there’s no need; I can sense the hostility bubbling away back there. I’ll leave them to it.

Instead, I turn to my father. To my astonishment, his eyes are bright with unshed tears. ‘You look beautiful, Zoe. Just like your mother.’

My breath catches and I exhale, feeling instantly tearful myself. ‘Thanks, Dad.’ He isn’t given to fits of sentimentality, so his words and emotion mean a lot. I just wish I felt well enough to appreciate it. His face suddenly swims before mine and I have to take a deep breath to fight back a wave of dizziness and nausea. Please let me get through the next few hours without passing out again. Maybe I’m coming down with flu. Talk about bad timing.

I’m ready to walk down the aisle, but Dad holds me back a few seconds longer. ‘I just have to ask, Zoe… are you absolutely sure you’re ready? This is a big decision.’ His words are blunt. A shock. His eyes search mine.