‘Not for people who are pregnant, you don't,' said Sarah.

‘Oh no,' Elsa agreed. 'Maybe I don't.' She paused. 'I wonder what I'd put your sister in, if I had a choice.'

‘Have you had lots of pregnant brides to deal with?' asked Bron.

‘A couple. It's not usually a big deal, except for the photos.’

Sarah sighed. 'I wish you'd talk to Lily. She's insistent that her mother-in-law will go mad if anyone suspects she's not a virgin bride. Mad, really.’

`So what is she having?' asked Elsa.

‘Not sure yet. But at least this time she's in a proper relationship, with a decent man. They've been going out for over a year.’

`I'm not sure that's long enough,' said Bron, picking up a breadstick and crunching the end of it.

‘No? How long have you and Roger been together, then?' Sarah caught a sad note in Bron's voice but wasn't sure if she wanted to talk about it.

‘A couple of years.'

‘So,' said Elsa. 'What kind of dress would you have, Bron?'

‘Oh, I don't know. Haven't thought about it.’

Sarah, who had moved on from wedding dresses said, 'I wonder if I could branch out and arrange hen nights? The trouble is, I'm not sure I'd want to deal with the tackyextras – the cowboy hats, the French maid outfits.'

‘You could arrange classy hen nights: spa holidays, maybe even learning something, like cooking or – I don't know – pottery,' suggested Elsa.

`What, make your own dinner service?' said Sarah.

‘Useful when it came to the first row,' said Bron brightly. 'Oh, here comes the first course. I'm glad we decided to share one. It's huge!'

‘Shall we order some more wine now?' suggested Bron. This done, Sarah asked, 'So, Bron, if you haven't thought about a wedding dress, have you thought about your hen night?'

‘And can you please invite us?' said Elsa. 'All my friends from school are either abroad or living with someone, determined not to get married on moral grounds.' She frowned. 'I only kept up with those two.'

‘Ah,' said Sarah. 'Norma No-Mates.'

‘That's me,' said Elsa, cheerfully. 'Still, I can say "Always the bridesmaid, never the bride" now, because I've been one. A bridesmaid, I mean.'

‘You're young. You've got plenty of time. You might get married at any minute!' said Sarah.

Elsa shook her head. 'Not in the foreseeable, anyway. No, it's Bron's hen night we should be thinking about. She's got a man, after all, which is key, let's face it.'

‘I'm never going to marry Roger,' said Bron.

The words were like a brake on the general chatter and there was a small silence before Elsa spoke.

‘Aren't you?' she said. 'Of course, there's no reason why you should. I probably just got carried away by Carrie's wedding.' She stopped, abashed. 'Have I made an awful pun?'

‘We'll forgive you,' said Sarah.

‘So do you feel like Sarah, morally opposed to marriage?’

said Elsa. Something about Bron indicated she had things on her mind she might want to share, but needed a little persuasion to do it.

Bron shook her head. 'Nope. Not generally, just for me and Roger.’

The tinkling of mandolins and Italian tenors, the sound of other diners scraping their knives and forks and murmuring to each other seemed to make the silence that suddenly fell more intense.

‘Why not?' whispered Elsa.

‘Because..

In the pause, while Bron was trying to express the thoughts that had thrummed away in her subconscious for months now, their main courses arrived. If the waiters wondered how the lighthearted group of young women who'd come in could have changed into the tight-lipped people who dismissed them with only the politest of smiles, they didn't comment, but the atmosphere changed completely.

Bron ignored her chicken alla Milanese and picked up her glass. 'We just don't get on any more. I could never be the wife he wanted, however hard I tried. I'm not sure if we should even be together.'

‘What do you mean?' Sarah put her hand on Bron's.

Bron sighed. 'I always thought if I tried my best, conformed to how he wanted me to be I could make it work, but I just can't. He despises my job, despises me and always has to be the one in charge.'

‘Oh, Bron, I'm so sorry,' said Elsa, putting her hand on Bron's other hand.

Sarah said, 'We – I – I mean, we knew he didn't like you doing weddings, and going out at night, but I didn't realise things were that bad.'

‘Well, they are.' Now she'd admitted it, both to herself and out loud, Bron felt tears starting at the back of her throat. She drank some more wine and tried to push down the growing feeling of despair that threatened to engulf her.

‘Well then, you must leave him,' said Sarah firmly.

‘I know,' said Bron, 'but I can't until I've got somewhere to go to.'

‘Your parents?' suggested Elsa.

‘They live in Spain,' said Bron. 'I could go and stay with them, of course. They'd love to have me, but I couldn't work there, or at least, not till I'd learnt some Spanish.'

‘My flat is so tiny, there isn't room for me in there what with all the office stuff,' said Sarah. 'But if you needed a place to go..

‘That's awfully sweet of you,' said Bron. 'But it's not that urgent. He may be a bit of a bully, but he doesn't hit me or anything.' For some reason her voice cracked and she suddenly started to cry.

Elsa, sitting next to her, instantly put her arm round her. 'Oh, honey. Don't cry, it'll be all right.’

The hubbub of the restaurant buzzed around them, oblivious to Bron's distress.

‘I know.' Bron sniffed loudly, trying her hardest not to sob, 'but it's just dawned on me how awful it will be leaving him.'

‘Why?' asked Sarah. 'Are you in love with him? In spite of everything?'

‘No. If I'm honest I don't think I've loved him for ages now. We've just fallen into a habit.'

‘Then won't you be glad to get away?' asked Sarah gently.

‘I will be, but I hate rows and he'll shout.'

‘Well, shout back!' said Sarah, firmer now.

‘I could do that, if I had the engine running in my car so could leap into it and drive off when it got too awful,' said Bron, trying to lighten up a bit, 'but there's no point in shouting if I've nowhere to go. And the thing is' – she gave a huge final sniff and wiped her nose on her paper napkin – 'now I've made my decision, I feel I must do it at once. Or soon as.'

‘We've got to think,' said Sarah. 'Surely between us we know someone with a big enough floor.'

‘My floor's huge but it would be dreadfully uncomfortable, although you're very welcome to it,' said Elsa doubtfully. 'And I do have a sofabed.’

Bron shook her head and dried her eyes. 'I really don't think I want to camp on someone's sofa, although it's terribly kind of you to offer. When I tell him I'm leaving, I want to be able to tell him I've got somewhere else to go, or he'll persuade me leaving him is a really stupid idea. Which it would be, if I didn't have anywhere else.'

‘Oh, I don't know,' muttered Sarah. 'I'd rather sleep on a park bench than live with a man I didn't love.’

Elsa turned her attention away from Bron for a moment. 'You've obviously been badly hurt in the past, Sarah.'

‘That's another story.' Sarah waved a hand dismissively. 'Right now, we've got to focus on Bron. Don't we know anyone who'd like a nice lodger for a while?'

‘Roger's mother would,' said Bron, 'but I don't think that's an option. What?’

Elsa was wagging her finger in the air, biting her lip, as if she were trying to remember something. Then she said, 'I've got it, I've got the answer!'

‘What answer?' asked Bron.

‘To where you should live,' said Elsa. 'When I was giving back the bridesmaid's dress..

‘Yes?' said Sarah encouragingly.

. Ashlyn's mother told me she's got a cottage. She was complaining that her tenant had let her down or she couldn't get insurance or something. She's going to do something with it later – can't remember what – but doesn't that sound ideal? It would at least tide you over until you could find a place of your own.'