‘Right, have you two had a falling-out or something?’ she’d finally asked, exasperated.

Nothing. It didn’t help that neither of them were drinking. ‘It’s a bloody hen night, for God’s sake!’ But Jude was on another of her stupid diets and Cat had decided to forego booze until the big day. Which was finally here and actually happening. And Gareth didn’t matter for now. Nor did whatever had gone on between her two best friends.

‘Okey doke,’ said Father O’Leary, checking his notes, ‘I’m gonna ask Lara Loin to come up the front now, alrigh’? An’ sing a little song for the lot of us? Crackin’.’ And he waved at Lana to join them.

Despite being used to performing, she was surprised to feel her throat contract with nerves and emotion as the guitarist they’d hired began gently strumming the introduction. She stumbled at first, missing the cue, and the guitarist started again. What was happening to her? She’d never felt so vulnerable, so exposed. She was out of her comfort zone. Because this wasn’t bold, brash show-time – this was time for heartfelt singing, and lyrics about the beautiful bond of unshakeable love between Catrin and Solomon. Lana focused all her energy on them. It was the only way she could get through it.

The reception at Montgomery Hall was superb. Lana, being from a big family, had been to lots of weddings in her twenty years, and this was by far the best.

When Huw made his father-of-the-bride speech, he had to keep stopping to gather himself, and each time Catrin would squeeze his hand, which would start him off crying again. In the end, Liz took over, taking his prompt cards from him and saying, ‘This is what my husband would like to say …’ She was far more controlled, and the jokes that Huw had written in there were met with appreciative laughter and cheers. When she came to the final few lines, though, she too crumpled, and this time Edward Blythe took the speech from Liz. It was like some sort of parental relay race, with the speech baton being handed from one parent to the next. ‘This is what Solomon’s father-in-law would finally like to say,’ said Edward. And being of a more serious disposition than Huw, he delivered the closing line in a monotone that lacked any attempt at humour. ‘Sol-she’s-my-only-daughter-and-without-her-I-am-lost-I’m-not-in-the-Mafia-nor-nothing-so-I-won’t-wreak-any-revenge-or-have-you-disappeared-but-if-you-hurt-her-in-brackets-DeNiro-accent-I-will-have-to-chase-you-the-hell-out-of-town-in-brackets-laugh.’

There was an awkward silence, before Edward added, ‘I think that’s meant to be a joke,’ and everyone clapped and laughed with relief.

‘Better behave myself then, hadn’t I?’ Sol whispered, before standing up to give his own speech.

And when he spoke, Lana could see exactly why Catrin had fallen in love with him. He’d ended with the words of e. e. cummings, which had everyone in floods:

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)