‘Or you can get a Meghan Markle style dress?’ Gen’s one hundred per cent Team Meghan and a bit obsessed. ‘She looked like she’d left room for expansion in hers.’

‘D’you think?’ Sophie perks up a bit. I’m scrolling through Instagram to find photos of Meghan’s dress, and before we know it, Sophie’s writing lists and making plans and normal Sophie service is resumed. I catch Gen’s eye over the top of Sophie’s head as she scribbles down a list of wedding dress designers in her ever-present notebook, and we exchange grins. Friend duty complete.

Chapter Twelve: Jess

Chapter Twelve

Jess

30th March, Bournemouth

I’m on the train heading south to the seaside. It’s Mother’s Day on Sunday, so I’m staying with Mum and spending the day with Nanna Beth. It’s only the second time I’ve been home since I moved – the last flying visit having to fit in around Nanna Beth’s chess tournament. I hadn’t factored in the cost of train journeys when I said I’d be back to visit as often as I could. But I speak to Nanna Beth on the phone all the time, and she’s still swapping Instagram photos with me. She’s developed a bit of a following: I showed her how to add hashtags to her posts, and it turns out there’s a whole world of elderly people out there sharing their photos. Who knew? Jav keeps joking there’s a book in it. She’s following her, and now her grandma in Mumbai and Nanna Beth are Instagram friends too.

Nanna Beth’s got a bit of an eye – I’m scrolling through her photos as we rumble out of the edges of London, past tired old buildings and graffiti-covered industrial units. The train stops and I snap a photo of a faded ghost sign and share it. Nanna B loves them.

The train pulls into Bournemouth and it feels like stepping into a pair of comfy old slippers after a long day in heels. I can smell the sea in the air and the sky stretches out huge in that way you only get at the seaside. I don’t even have to think about where I’m going, which is such a relief after the constant map-checking that characterises my London life. I’m still trying to find my way around the city. But here – home – my feet carry me along the road towards the prom and I turn left at the end, crossing over to walk along the pavement beside the edge of the little stony cliff that drops down to the beach path. It takes half an hour, but I’m not in any rush. Every step I take, every breath of salty air I breathe in, I feel like I’m unwinding. I hadn’t realised how much I missed being by the seaside.