‘Why does she have to stick her oar in? I just want to go and talk to him and figure this out without all the bloody drama!’ Merrin yanked at the bodice quicker than Bella could undo the buttons.

‘Keep still! Every time you pull forward I drop the little loops and have to start again. I think it’s too late for anything to be done without drama today. And the reason your sister is sticking her oar in is because he’s done a shitty thing to you and she loves you. We all do.’

‘I know that, Bells, and I love you all, but he’s my fiancé and I know there will be more to it; he’s not a bad person, something must have happened.’

‘Or maybe he is just as I described him: a coward and a knob.’

Merrin shook her head. ‘He’s not. He’s lovely and I love him and I know he loves me.’ Her mouth twitched into the beginning of a smile at the thought of him and she prayed she spoke the truth. She knew Digby, knew him better than anyone else, and could so easily recall the words whispered in the darkness as they lay together on a mattress, her head on his chest, their fingers entwined. ‘I can’t wait to grow old with you, can’t wait to have decades behind us as an old married couple. It’ll mean we have memories, history . . .’

Bella undid the last of the fiddly buttons and the voluminous dress dropped to the floor, filling the space between the two single beds with reams of frothy material, which Merrin had to clamber over, kicking to free her feet, which got caught in the fabric.

‘Well, if he’s as lovely as you say, then maybe you two will sort everything out, but no person on this earth is worth sacrificing yourself for. Don’t ever stop being you and don’t ever bend so far to accommodate someone that you break. Do you know what I’m saying?’

Merrin pulled on the long-sleeved t-shirt that she had slept in the night before and stepped into her jeans, which were soft with too much wear and in need of a wash, both retrieved from a pile at the end of her bed.

‘I do know what you are saying, and I love how much you all love me, but you have to trust me.’

‘I do, but . . .’

Merrin wished her friend would hurry up; she wanted to go and find Digby. Impatience made her jumpy.

‘Don’t you feel a bit angry at being left in the church like that? The vicar had to send everyone home, Merry! The whole bloody thing is awful!’ Bella let her shoulders rise and fall, as if knowing her words were inadequate.