But when Melissa tried to talk to Ray about her plans he didn’t seem as interested as she’d hoped. He was a man, of course, which would explain a little of his reticence, but this was supposed to be his wedding, too, and she wanted to be certain that he was as excited as she was about the details. She tried again now as they lay in bed, Leah sleeping quietly in her carrycot beyond the partition wall.

‘I’ve found the perfect wedding dress,’ Melissa began, propping herself up on her elbow so that she could watch Ray’s face as she spoke. ‘I can’t tell you anything about it, like. That’s bad luck. And I can’t afford it either, but my Auntie Kathleen is a canny dressmaker. She’ll make it for me if I ask her.’

Ray muttered something that might have been affirmative, but then he rubbed his nose into her cleavage, his hair tickling her under her chin, and made a sound a bit like a growl. Melissa pushed him away gently and then, when he refused to move, with a little more force.

‘Ray!’ she said, trying to make her tone serious. ‘Concentrate!’

Ray narrowed his features into a grave expression, his eyebrows pulling together and his brow furrowed. ‘Yes, Miss. Sorry, Miss,’ he said.

Melissa wanted to laugh, but this was important, so she kept her face straight and continued. ‘And I thought we could maybe have the reception at the football club. I know the steward and I reckon he’ll do us a deal if I ask. What do you think?’

Ray rolled back into the pillows and stared up, his arms crossed behind his head. He didn’t speak.

Melissa had grown used to these silences. At first, they had worried her. She’d interpreted them negatively, assuming that he was building up to telling her he’d had enough of her, that it was over. Each silence had been accompanied by a growing sense of panic as she imagined what it could be that he was having such difficulty saying. But as their relationship had gone on and particularly now that he had proposed, she found his silences less unsettling. It was just his way of thinking, she understood, the way he processed what had been said. So she stayed still, propped up on her elbow, just watching his face, and waited.

‘You don’t think,’ he said finally, ‘that this wedding planning is getting a little out of hand?’

Melissa was confused. She hadn’t suggested anything outlandish or madly extravagant. All brides needed a dress, didn’t they? And they had to have a reception.

‘How do you mean, like?’ she asked him.