‘I know. I thought you were going to faint again. Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine.’ Although the truth is I feel far from fine. I’m nauseous, and everything is still fuzzy, as though my ears need to pop. Even though I’m so happy that we’re finally married I feel as if I missed it. As though I was elsewhere while it was all going on. I want to cry with the unfairness of it all. Why am I feeling like this today of all days? Why did I have to faint on my wedding day?

Toby and I sign the register as everyone else heads outside, no doubt eager to gulp down some cool air. Eventually, we follow them out too, but not before Celia drapes a white faux-fur shawl around my shoulders.

‘It’s freezing out there. Don’t want you to catch a chill. Congratulations, you two. You make a beautiful couple.’

I’m grateful she doesn’t ask how I’m feeling. Because then I’d have to lie and say I feel amazing. Like I’m walking on air. Instead of the strange unsettling disappointment that clouds my mind.

Our guests clap and cheer and throw silver and gold confetti as Toby and I step outside into the icy air. Celia wasn’t wrong – it’s bitterly cold out here. We don’t linger. Instead, we all make our way along the paved pathway which leads to the hotel entrance. From the outside, it must look like a scene from a movie. Our route is wreathed with fairy lights and winter flowers – poinsettia, hellebores, holly berries and ivy. It should be a magical moment, but I don’t appreciate any of it. My body is hot and cold, shivering and clammy. My mind is hazy, as though there’s something I’m missing. I smile and laugh, and I hug and kiss my husband. But it all feels like an act. As if I’m going through the motions. What on earth is wrong with me?

Five

NOW

It’s dark as I leave work bundled up in my hat and scarf, my breath making silver plumes in the cold night air. I walk quickly through the familiar streets until I reach the blue metal gates of my children’s school. Alice and Jamie go to the after-school club three times a week, but thankfully they don’t mind as they either get to socialise with their friends or catch up on their homework. The latter is great for me, because then I don’t have the chore of supervising it at home, especially maths, which in Alice’s year has already passed beyond my capabilities.

‘Hi, Mrs Johnson.’ Cheryl, the supervisor, greets me at the door after buzzing me in.