All the guests were pretty glamorous too. It was a small wedding, considering, but the spend per outfit would almost have covered the entire cost of Lily's budget affair.

She turned her mind back to that very different wedding. What were they getting up to now? Dancing, she hoped, to the CD the bride and groom had made together, marking the progression of their romance with the songs. She was so pleased that she'd been able to help her sister have her perfect day. Carrie was having a band later, for the dancing that was going to take place in the drawing room. Sarah had talked her out of having a string quartet playing during the meal as they would take up valuable space.

At last Carrie arrived. She was handed out of the carriage by her father, who was giving her away in the proper traditional manner Carrie had wanted. Her little bridesmaids were all ready. When Sarah heard Purcell's 'Trumpet Tune' for the second time that day she knew the end was in sight. In eight hours or so she could fall into bed.

Elsa slipped into the back of the chapel, having arranged Carrie's dress for the final time before she set off up the aisle. She was very pleased with how it had turned out. The back, particularly, was a triumph. This was the part that people spent most time looking at, after all.

The crystal-studded corset and the stiffened georgette caught the light and glittered as if it had been sprinkled with diamonds. No theatrical costume could have looked more fairy-like or magical.

Even the little bridesmaids, whose dresses had been so last minute, looked like fairy servants behind their queen. No one would know the panic, the frantic sewing, the midnight hours that went into those costumes except a very few people, but, Elsa now knew, it had all been worth it.

She had spent the few minutes she had before Carrie appeared star-spotting. It was one way to pass the time, and she thought it might help her throw off the melancholy that had settled over her recently.

She'd heard nothing from Laurence for ages. He'd warned her he'd have very little time to call or text, and he was in the States anyway, so the time difference made things even more difficult. But she was a bit hurt. There were at least half a dozen ways a person could contact another person these days, not including carrier pigeon.

Had she made a mistake in sleeping with him? Was that why his texts had dwindled to nothing a matter of days afterwards? If she had, it was a lovely mistake, and she'd just have to be content with the memory of a wonderful night of passion with a caring, considerate, sexy man.

A little spark of excitement flickered, like light on Swarovski crystals, in her heart. Maybe he'd still be able to make it after all. Perhaps he was on his way at this very moment and unable to call her. The fact that he might turn up gave her that little hope.

Still, she thought, if he couldn't come, there were plenty of fit young men here, even if they were mostly accompanied by size zero, WAG-type starlets and unlikely to look at her in her Regency ball gown.

After the ceremony, and when the wedding supper was over, having checked Carrie's dress again after the bride'd been upstairs and had her lip-gloss reapplied, and her back and shoulders powdered and sprinkled with the merest dusting of iridescent make-up, Elsa looked around the room and caught Bron's eye. Bron, she knew, was worrying about the fact that her bed was still covered in glass from when the ladder went through it. There'd been no opportunity to do anything about it and while there would probably be somewhere spare for her to sleep, not knowing where that would be was depressing for her. As was the fact that James seemed to have disappeared.

‘May I have the pleasure of this dance?' The best man, whom Elsa recognised as an American soap star, stood before her. He was smiling down at her with his perfect teeth practically twinkling.

It was a waltz: Carrie had wanted her reception to start with several traditional ballroom dances to show off her beautiful gown before it morphed into a more general free- for-all.

He was very good-looking, Elsa had to acknowledge, and although at one time she would have refused, there wasn't an adult bridesmaid he should have been dancing with and she could do waltzing now. She said yes. She smiled at him and allowed him to take her into his arms.

He was hopeless, she realised; as bad, if not worse, than she had been the very first time she had tried waltzing with Laurence. They went twice round the dance floor, which was not huge, and then he said, 'I'm sorry. I'm no good at this. Would you mind if we just did a slow dance instead?'

‘What do you mean? Waltzing isn't terribly fast.’

He laughed at her teasingly. 'You're cute. I meant like this.' He took her hands and linked them behind his head and then put his arms round her waist. It was, she had to admit, much easier than trying to steer him round corners.

Nothing like being in the arms of an attractive man to chase away memories of another one, she thought as they circled the room. Not that this man really had chased away her thoughts of Laurence, but it was a distraction. At one time her dream scenario at an occasion like this would have been to find a good spot to watch it all from. But not now. Since being a substitute bridesmaid at Ashlyn's wedding, she had come on a lot. She now wanted to be part of the party, not just an onlooker.

For example, she pondered, as they plodded round in a small circle, would she have had the confidence to dance with him at all, to let him hold her close if it hadn't been for Ashlyn's wedding and all that followed it? She doubted it. Having her hair cut, Vanessa making her have her colours done, Laurence making her learn to waltz, had all given her confidence. So what if he'd decided it was a mistake, she told herself firmly, at least now she was a braver, more ^confident person. Having come to this conclusion she decided she should be bolder. She relaxed and smiled up at her partner and held his gaze as he smiled back.

‘Excuse me!’

Someone tapped her on her shoulder and peeled her off her partner. It was Laurence.

‘Excuse me,' he said again, to the man this time. 'But this is my girlfriend. I'm afraid I'm going to take her away.' Elsa's heart gave a little dance of pleasure.

‘Hey, fella! Doesn't she have some say in the matter?' The young American film star was heavier than Laurence and seemed ready to fight for his woman.

‘I'm afraid not. Come on, Elsa,' said Laurence. Then he took her hand and led her away.

‘Laurence!' said Elsa, struggling to keep up with him. 'What are you doing here? I thought you couldn't come!’

He didn't stop until they were in a little pantry, miles away from the party. 'I know, I nearly didn't make it, but I just had to, whatever it took.'

‘Why didn't you let me know?' she said. 'I haven't heard from you for so long. I thought..

He looked suitably contrite. 'I'm so sorry I haven't been in touch. I was so busy. Then I lost my phone and the battery died on my laptop – couldn't get a spare where I was and all my telephone numbers were on it.'

‘Oh.' That did cover most of the bases, apart from the carrier pigeon, of course.

He sighed deeply. 'I really am sorry. Anyway, I'm here now.’

She nodded.

‘I had to get a taxi from the airport. Cost me an arm and a leg.'

‘Oh dear.' She didn't know what else to say.

‘Elsa, I haven't driven for over five hours to get here to listen to you saying "Oh", or if I'm lucky "Oh dear"!’

She twinkled up at him, thrilled to see him, standing there looking so handsome in his dinner jacket. Dear Laurence, he'd come back to her.