‘Used to call her Garbo! Yeah, go on,’ said Judith, keen for Catrin to get to the point, the phone nestled in the crook of her neck as she nursed her sleeping grandchild.

‘Sorry, right … so, just as she was leaving she said she had some gossip to share. Well, I tried to put her off, ’cos, y’know, we’re not meant to gossip …’

‘Oh Cat! Spit it out, for God’s sake!’ said Judith in a whispered shout so as not to wake Ivy.

‘It’s your mum,’ said Catrin. ‘She’s getting married.’

‘Well, so she claims!’ said Jude. ‘But she’s put it off several times already.’

‘No! She’s getting married today! At two o’clock!’

An hour later, Judith, Gareth and baby Ivy were on the M4, heading for Wales. Gareth was driving and Judith was in the back with her granddaughter.

‘What the hell’s she playing at, Gar?’ demanded Judith for the umpteenth time.

Since Adrian’s announcement in December, Jack, Gareth and Judith had all worked tirelessly to persuade Patricia that she was making a mistake. And she had seemed to be relenting, having changed the wedding date twice to later in the year.

Jack had been optimistic. ‘I really don’t think she’ll go through with it, Mum,’ he’d said. ‘And that social worker agrees. They’re keeping a very beady eye on things, y’know.’

So it wasn’t that Judith had become nonchalant about the wedding, she’d just come to believe that it was never going to happen; that, true to form, Patricia would keep Adrian well and truly hanging on.

And now here they were, heading for Wales to try to put a stop to a wedding that Patricia clearly had every intention of undertaking.

‘She’s a sly, manipulative old witch. And so is he,’ she said. ‘They’ve obviously been lying to us, planning to do it in secret all along!’

The phone rang. It was Catrin again. ‘I can’t get hold of my mum or my dad!’ she yelled over the speakerphone. ‘So they can’t help. And I’ve got a list of patients as long as my arm waiting to be seen. There’s no way I can go, Jude! Maybe you’re just gonna have to accept you can’t stop her.’

‘No way.’

In the background they could hear Catrin’s receptionist informing her the next patient was on his way in.

‘Look, there is someone who can help,’ Catrin said hurriedly. ‘But you’re gonna have to make the call. I’ll text you the number now. And if I can escape after morning surgery, I’ll meet you there.’

Catrin hung up. And within seconds Judith’s message alert beeped.

CONTACT DETAILS for LANA LLOYD.

Judith sighed.

59

Lana

She was getting ready for a lunchtime event at a gay club in Cardiff. The gay clubs seemed to love her, but she didn’t want to take her recent popularity for granted. Who knew when the next brilliant look-and-sound-alike would come along? She’d heard rumours of a very convincing Barbra Streisand from Pontycymer taking the scene by storm. So she mustn’t let her guard down – or drop her standards.