‘Poor girl,' said Hugo, filling Sarah's glass, and sounding almost tender. 'And you can't persuade your sister to change the date?'

‘Not really. The church is booked and she's pregnant.' Her hand flew to her mouth. 'I shouldn't have said that. I've probably had too much to drink.' She took another sip of wine anyway.

‘We won't tell anyone,' said Bron. 'Are you excited at becoming an aunt?’

Sarah bit her lip. 'Well, yes, I will be nearer the time, but I think I've had a bit too much excitement recently.' Too late she wished she hadn't said that and really hoped that Hugo, sitting next to her, wouldn't think that he was part of the 'too much excitement'. He definitely was.

He didn't put his hand reassuringly on her arm as he might once have done, before the 'kiss', and Sarah suddenly yearned for him to. Why was it that those little gestures, which are so disgusting when done by the wrong person, are so lovely when done by the right person. Things like that should be neutral; you should either like the pressure or not. She glanced round the table quickly, hoping no one could discern her weird thought processes.

‘So, Elsa,' said Hugo smoothly, as if he were not sitting next to a madwoman. 'How did you enjoy being a bridesmaid at the last minute? I must say, you looked lovely.’

Elsa blushed at the compliment and it occurred to Sarah once again what a very pretty girl she was. Why was she single? she wondered. After all, she wasn't a hardened spinster like Sarah.

‘I got into it eventually,' said Elsa.

‘That hairstyle is perfect. It really suits you,' said Hugo. Sarah realised how charming he could be and part of her regretted that she'd been so adamant, but then she remembered how charming Bruce had been. Better safe than sorry.

‘And you're up for making a wedding dress just like Ashlyn's?' asked Hugo.

Elsa shrugged. 'I did think it would be a good idea if we could persuade Carrie to actually wear Ashlyn's dress.'

‘I'd rather ask Ashlyn if Carrie could wear her dress than ask Carrie if she'd contemplate having her big celebrity wedding in a "pre-loved" one,' said Bron.

Everyone laughed. Sarah said, 'Even my sister, who's on a really tight budget, although she won't admit it, won't wear a second-hand one. I thought I might get her to wear our mother's wedding dress, but I don't think she will. It's bound to be really dated by now anyway.'

‘I could probably adapt it for her, if she'd like me to,' said Elsa. 'That's how I started out, making things over for people.'

‘Really? That's interesting,' said Hugo. By the way he looked at Elsa Sarah could tell he really was interested. He was very good at all this and Sarah wondered if it was because of his sister; from what he'd said they seemed quite close.

‘Yes. I had a Saturday job in a dry-cleaner's. I did the mending. Then I went to college.'

‘What about you, Bron?'

‘I went to college too.' She seemed to Sarah to sound a little defensive. 'I see hairdressing and beauty therapy as a bit of a vocation.'

‘Oh?' Again, Hugo's attention was total. This seemed to give Bron confidence.

‘Yes,' she explained. 'Lots of people think that hairdressing is only for people who couldn't do anything else. I could have done lots of things, but I wanted to do hairdressing. There's a lot more to it than people realise.’

Bron picked up her glass and luckily the waitress arrived at that moment with a large plate of tortellini.

‘Ah, here's your food,' said Elsa to Hugo. 'Shall we look at the pudding menu, girls?'

‘Oh yes,' agreed Sarah. 'I always look at it. I don't often let myself have one, but I love to read about them.'

‘We could share one,' said Bron. 'What about chocolate tart with a trio of ice creams and fudge sauce?'

‘Oh yes,' said Elsa.

‘Why don't you have one each?' asked Hugo. 'If you like that sort of thing.'

‘Not nearly as much fun,' explained Sarah. 'And we'd be sick.'

‘And fat,' put in Bron. 'Men don't like sharing their food. Roger gets terribly annoyed if I pinch a chip or ask for a spoonful of pudding.'

‘He's probably an only child,' said Sarah.

‘Well, yes, he is,' said Bron. 'But so am I. I don't mind people sharing my meal. I think it's friendly.'

‘I'm an only child too,' said Elsa. 'I'm also pretty relaxed about food. Mind you, my dad has always stolen my chips. I got used to it very young.'

‘I'll order the pudding,' said Sarah. 'Hugo, is there anything you'd like?’

He shook his head. 'I'm happy with this, thank you, but please feel free to share it if you want to.'

‘We wouldn't do that, Hugo,' said Bron. 'That would be very unfair.’

They chatted easily for the rest of the evening, and Sarah finally relaxed. Hugo was good company and regaled them all with amusing anecdotes about some of the weddings he'd been to that Sarah hadn't organised. Finally, as the waitresses began stacking chairs, they felt they really should leave.

Everyone squashed into Hugo's car, laughing and joking. Elsa and Bron got in the back before Sarah could nab a place there.

‘I hope you don't mind being a chauffeur, Hugo,' she said, suddenly feeling guilty for taking advantage of his good nature.

‘I don't mind,' said Hugo. 'I have been a chauffeur in my time.’

As they drove in silence through the night she realised there was a lot about him she didn't know. Part of her yearned to find out more about him as a person, but she knew she mustn't do or say anything that might risk drifting away from their professional relationship. They'd managed to establish their old easy relationship – well, perhaps not entirely, but time would help that.

When he'd dropped off the other girls, they had both given him a peck on the cheek when they said goodbye. Feeling horribly awkward about the whole thing she did the same, a quick rushed peck that was more like a stab, really.

‘Goodbye, Hugo, thank you very much for the lift.’

‘You are entirely welcome, Sarah,' he said.

She walked up to the door of her building feeling wistful. He probably was as nice and as trustworthy as he seemed – he was certainly as sexy. It was a real shame she couldn't trust anybody.

About ten days after their jolly evening at the wine bar, Elsa got out of bed and put the kettle on. This done, she went into her workroom while she was still bleary-eyed and sleepy, wearing the big sloppy T-shirt she'd slept in.

One of the things she really liked about living on the premises was being able to go straight to work if she wanted to, even on a Sunday, without having to shower, or dress, or travel. She liked having her first-thing-in-the morning mind, as yet uncluttered by the daily grind, to apply to her creative process.

Later, she might visit her parents, have lunch or tea or go for a walk. They never minded her being casual about these things – if they weren't in they weren't in. Now she had got a prom dress and a beaded corset off her hands, she had a slot to really think about Carrie Condy's wedding dress.

She knew that Carrie Condy wanted everything about her wedding to be the same as Ashlyn's, but she also knew that even brides who weren't celebrities wanted to be uniquely beautiful on their wedding day. Another inconvenient fact was that she couldn't really make any proper plans, apart from drawings, without speaking to Carrie. She could produce fabric samples galore, but until Carrie made her choice, she couldn't do a thing. Sarah was going to ring her the moment she heard anything.

She wasted a few moments thinking about Ashlyn's wedding and her role in it. Had she secretly enjoyed being part of the action in a beautiful dress? Or was she really and truly happier in her usual black? On balance she felt she was a backroom girl at heart. She was the one who made things happen for other people, rather like Bron was. Let the limelight be for others.