Sarah, who'd seen many more wedding dresses than Lily, said, 'Mm.'

‘If you'd like to try any on,' said the smiling assistant, 'please let me help you.'

‘Oh yes, please!' said Lily enthusiastically. 'Can I try that one? I'm a size ten.’

Sarah cleared her throat. 'At the risk of sounding like our dear departed mother, I think you should go and wash your hands.’

Lily looked at her hands. 'Oh my God! So sorry! Covered in chocolate! I'll be back!’

Lily had many skills, and one of them was being able to find a Ladies in a completely strange place without needing to ask. It was as if she was tuned in to the smell of handwash and hot-air driers, and could track them down, like a bee scenting its hive.

While she was gone, Sarah perched on a little sofa, resting her feet that were still aching a bit from Ashlyn's wedding. She didn't want to engage with the woman in charge of the dresses because she knew Lily wasn't going to buy one, however much she might want to.

Lily skipped back a few minutes later smelling of something floral. 'There was a woman selling personalised perfumes,' she explained. 'Couldn't resist. Right, dresses. Can I try that one, please?'

‘Perfect,' said the woman, handing it to her. 'This dress only looks really good on more slender brides. Call me when you need help with the buttons. Oh, and there's a zip at the side, too.’

Sarah stayed sitting while Lily was in the changing room, putting her perfect but pregnant size ten into a garment which was so fitted, even a fairy cake would show if you ate one, let alone a five-month pregnancy.

How, Sarah wondered, had a woman with her history got to be a wedding planner when she was so cynical about marriage? She didn't often have time to ask herself this rather important question, but while twenty pearl buttons were hiking in her sister's tiny waist with the aid of at least two other women, it seemed the perfect opportunity.

Her own utter disillusion formed her attitude to marriage, that was straightforward enough. But why encourage other women to commit to men who probably wouldn't commit back? It really went back to that holiday job she'd had as a waitress, working for a friend of her mother. She'd only been expected to hand round trays of nibbles, but the lack of organisation in the kitchen had maddened her. There was an industrial dishwasher, but none of the women was willing to work out how it operated except her. Then she had to organise a system of plates in, plates out. Her bossy streak emerged.

Later, after university, she got a job in public relations and events management and one thing led to another. She found she had a flair for wedding planning and, ironically, helping to create the special day for others took her mind off her own heartache until it became only an unpleasant memory – although it had obviously scarred her for life in terms of ever daring to love again. She decided, when she had her first set of business cards printed, that while she couldn't do anything about the happy-ever-after aspect of weddings, she could create a dream day for every bride. It wasn't long before she realised dreams were a lot harder to create than anyone might think, but it was still her aim, and when it all went perfectly, she found it enormously satisfying. Now she only hoped she could help her sister's dream along towards perfection.

When Lily finally emerged, there was practically a round of applause from the other assistants and the few soon-to be brides who were there. She looked stunning, there was no getting away from it.

‘Oh!' said the assistant. 'I've gone all teary. You look so lovely!'

‘Well, Sarah?' said Lily. 'Isn't the dress for me?’

She swallowed. Lily did look beautiful but Sarah's practical side came to the fore. She bit her lip and summoned all the tact she was famous for. 'Well,' she said cautiously. 'If you waited until next year to get married you could have that dress. It would look gorgeous.'

‘Why won't it look gorgeous now?' asked Lily, frowning a little as she turned this way and that in front of the glass. 'It's probably the shoes.' She waggled a bare foot. 'I need some heels.'

‘It's not that,' said Sarah quickly. 'It looks wonderful now, of course it does, but…' She paused, not wishing to announce her sister's condition to the world. 'It might look better next year, that's all.’

Lily got the point. 'Oh! You mean because I'm pregnant, I shouldn't have this style?’

Sarah caught the eye of the saleswoman, who giggled. 'Well, I wasn't going to say that, but it's what I meant.'

‘The baby is only tiny! Just a few centimetres!' protested Lily.

‘But unless you're getting married tomorrow, you won't manage in anything as sleek as this,' put in the saleswoman. 'An empire line would be more suitable.’

'But I've always had such a tiny waist! I want to show it off!' Lily protested again.

‘Well, you can,' said Sarah, 'but you have to have the baby first!' She didn't suggest that her sister's waist might not be quite so tiny after she'd had the baby because (a) it was cruel and (b) her sister was the sort of woman whose figure would more than likely just ping back into shape a day after her milk came in. Maddening, but true.

Lily shook her head. 'Not possible. I'd better get out of this. I am so disappointed!' She scowled at Sarah as if it were somehow her sister's fault she was pregnant. She stomped back to the changing room, fiddling with the buttons as she went.

When Lily re-emerged later, some of her sunniness had returned, especially when Sarah said, 'Honestly, there are lots of fabulous styles that not only hide the fact you're pregnant, but look heavenly as well.’

Secretly, Sarah wasn't as certain about this as she sounded, but there was no point in spoiling all Lily's pleasure in her wedding preparations. After her first dismal attempt at matrimony, when Lily had worn jeans and wild flowers in her hair and it had all gone horribly wrong, the girl was allowed her dreams. And no one had been more delighted than Sarah when Lily had introduced her to Dirk.

‘Let's get some more champagne,' said Lily, all smiles now. 'I'm thirsty!'

‘You really shouldn't be drinking, you're pregnant,' said Sarah, but she said it to herself.

At lunchtime, which they ate in the conservatory that must have been tacked on to the castle long before anyone ever tried to stop anachronistic additions, Lily produced a book.

‘Look, it tells us here when you have to do everything. It's a timetable.’

Sarah nibbled a cucumber sandwich. 'I actually do know all that stuff. It's my job.’

Lily took no notice. 'I think I'm quite well ahead. We've got the venue, after all.'

‘It's a church, Lils, I think you should call it that.'

‘And Dirk's mother wants a marquee in the garden for the reception. I'd much rather go to a hotel…' She glanced up at her sister, who shook her head. 'OK, I'll go with the marquee. Did they have one in Four Weddings and a Funeral?'

‘I'm sure they did.' As this film was so often mentioned to Sarah she realised she should probably watch it, but since its hero bore more than a passing resemblance to her ex, she'd always avoided Hugh Grant films.

‘Ooh, it's also got a place for the budget. How much do you think I should spend on my dress?'

‘Depends. You still haven't told me how much your total budget is. There's no point in allocating a thousand pounds if that's all you've got for the whole thing.'

‘Mm.' It was Lily's turn to be pensive now. 'Actually, I think that may be our budget. I should ask Dirk.’

‘You should definitely ask Dirk. But don't worry too much. As I said, I'm sure Dad'll contribute something. And I'll do everything I can to keep costs down.'