‘I’m aware the vicar had to send everyone home, and no, I’m not a bit angry.’ She shook her head, speaking softly. Her words, despite her urgent need to leave, were slowly found and delivered. ‘I’m totally destroyed. Totally. It’s like I’m dreaming. I’m hollow and gasping for air, desperate to find out the truth, to understand the reason, and I can only do that by looking him in the eye and hearing it from him, and only then might I be able to process it, because if I don’t’ – she put her fingers in her hair – ‘I just might lose my fucking mind!’ Her voice was reed thin. Without warning, her gut bunched and her throat tightened, and she bent forward and retched, aiming her mouth over the wastepaper bin that was full of tissues covered in the make-up Ruby had wiped from her face, heaving until a thin and inadequate bile dribbled from her.

‘You’ve nothing to bring up, love. Should have had a bacon sandwich.’

Merrin straightened and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. ‘I’m clinging on, Bells. But only just.’ Her voice quavered.

Bella placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder. ‘I understand, Merry. I do understand.’

Merrin took a moment to steel herself before rushing down the stairs, where she stopped in the parlour to shove on her trainers.

‘Where are you heading off to, lovey?’ her mum asked, as she, her dad and her gran sat around the table, their wedding outfits quite incongruous to the moment. They all stared at her, transformed now from bride to their ordinary daughter in her jeans and t-shirt as if it was any other day, which is exactly what it had become.

‘Just think, I should be tucking into my roast beef about now,’ her gran lamented, sidetracking the conversation. Her comment didn’t help and again Merrin felt the bite of nausea.

‘I’ll go make you a sandwich, Ellen.’ Her mum stood and rolled her eyes.

‘I’ll have a sandwich, if you’re making, Heather.’ Her dad rubbed his stomach.

‘I shan’t be long, I’m going to see if I can find him and then I’ll come straight home.’

‘I wish I knew what to do, Merrin, what to say.’ Her mum voiced her thoughts. ‘But I really don’t. I don’t know whether I should be telling you to stay home or trying to make it better or getting mad on your behalf, or going up to the house to have it out with Loretta; I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.’ She unpinned the elegant lavender-and-heather corsage from her coat; it had started to wilt.

‘That makes two of us.’ It hurt to see her mum flustered and concerned on a day that had held so much promise.

‘You want me to come with you?’ Her dad swivelled round on his chair.