Then he took her in his arms and kissed her.

It took Elsa a few seconds to get into the kiss. At first their noses bumped and their teeth clashed but then it settled down into a stomach-weakening clinch that made Elsa's head swim. She was glad he didn't let go when he stopped for breath or she might have fallen over.

‘Goodness, Laurence,' she said breathlessly. 'That was quite a kiss.'

‘I hope you know now how much I've missed you.’

‘Well, I've got some idea.' She smiled, all warm inside. 'I know we hadn't really got that far in our relationship…' He paused.

‘Did we have a relationship?'

‘Well, friendship. But I couldn't wait any longer. And that gorilla would have had you if I hadn't stepped in.’

Elsa laughed. 'I don't think so. We were only dancing.'

‘I know only too well what dancing can lead to!' said Laurence. 'That dancing teacher definitely fancied you.’

Elsa suddenly started to giggle. It was so lovely and funny and silly to be here with Laurence and him being jealous. 'Actually, I think the dancing teacher was gay.'

‘If he was, he was thinking of changing his mind.'

‘Idiot.' Then she went on, not wanting any awkwardness between them, 'When I didn't hear from you for such a long time I wondered if I'd made a mistake sleeping with you. We didn't know each other all that well. I thought maybe you'd lost all respect for me.'

‘Oh Elsa! I could never do that.' He took her into his arms again for a long time.

As Elsa was sort of on duty, in case Carrie had a ‘wardrobe malfunction', they drifted back up to the dancing. They met Sarah rubbing her foot in the doorway.

‘Laurence!' she said, pleased to see him. 'You made it.'

‘In the nick of time.' He glanced at Elsa and Elsa noticed a proprietorial gleam in his eye and it made her insides give a little skip of pleasure. 'She was just about to go off with the best man.'

‘That's what I do at weddings,' Elsa explained. 'It's a golden rule.’

Laurence's hand found her waist and tickled her. 'Not any more it's not. From now on, it's bridegrooms only.'

‘Bridegrooms?' asked Sarah, laughing and easing her foot back into her shoe. 'Not at any wedding I have anything to do with – it would ruin my business.'

‘Not if the bridegroom was me,' said Laurence. 'I'm fed up with always being the best man, I want my moment in the sun.'

‘You'll get a moment in the Sun if you're not careful. A few journalists have muscled their way in,' said Sarah. 'I'm just going to ask them to leave.’

Elsa laughed but uncertainly. She wasn't sure, but she might have been proposed to, in a very roundabout way.

‘So,' said Laurence when he'd got them both fresh glasses of champagne, 'how would you like to be a bride?’

Elsa considered, still not sure if he was asking in a general way, or actually proposing. She decided to take it lightly. 'I don't think I would. I don't think I'd like being the centre of attention.'

‘We could have a very quiet wedding, just family and a few friends..’

She bridled, a skill she didn't know she had. 'What's this "we" business? I thought we were discussing me being a bride!'

‘If you're going to be a bride, I bagsy be the bridegroom.’

She shook her head reproachfully. 'You don't bagsy brides, as if they were a seat on a bus! You go down on one knee and propose-' She let out a small shriek. 'Don't you dare!'

‘I won't go down on one knee if you don't want me to, but I would be very thrilled and happy if you'd agree to be-' He bent his knee.

‘No!' She pushed at him, starting to laugh again. It was all so daft. 'We hardly know each other!'

‘We know each other, in the Biblical sense, quite well.’

‘Really, Laurence!'

‘Really, Elsa!' He hesitated for a moment, and then the band struck up and the wonderful, poignant notes of 'Smoke Gets in Your Eyes' began, and the low; mellow tones of the singer started to float through the air.

He got up and took her hand, 'Come on, they're playing our song. Let's dance.’

She followed him to the dance floor. 'We haven't got a song, Laurence.'

‘We will have from now on. From now on whenever we hear this we'll remember the night you nearly agreed to be my wife.’

Elsa chuckled. 'So will we have another song if ever I do agree?’

He snatched her into his arms. 'No. This one will have to do_’

There was nothing like not knowing where you were going to lay your head that night for making you tired, thought Bron. She hadn't realised that being the make-up artist to the stars would be quite so exhausting. The trouble was, she'd been up before dawn for too many days prior to the actual wedding. Doing the cakes and a lot of flower-arranging meant she was tired before she started on her proper job.

She hadn't seen James for ages. He might have gone home. He might have felt that this was not his sort of party. Maybe she had lost her moment, for ever. Vanessa would be cross with them both. She suddenly felt sad. She'd just have to accept he saw her as a friend and be thankful at least for that. Bron wasn't sure it was her sort of party either, really. It was lovely to look at, beautiful people being beautiful all over the place. The cake had looked fabulous. Everyone had admired it. The caterers had taken Bron's details. It might be the start of a whole new career. When Sarah told her how much she was going to be paid for making it she realised there was more money in cake than in up-dos. She would have felt exhilarated if she hadn't been exhausted. The events of the last couple of months had finally caught up with her.

When the last lick of lip-gloss, the last brush of powder had been applied and Carrie and her new husband had been carried away, Bron decided to slip off. She was aware that lots of the people she knew, Rupert and Fenella, Elsa and Laurence – Elsa had looked so happy she was pleased for her friend despite the pang for herself – and probably Sarah, were going to kick back and relax. The wedding had been a huge success and they could now stop working and start partying. While Bron wanted to do this too, she wanted some sleep first.

She slipped away down to the kitchen and out of the back door. She thought about her bed, probably still strewn with broken glass and muttered to herself. Then she remembered the caravan. She could sleep there. She felt like someone in a desert on the way to the oasis – nothing was going to stop her getting her head down.

The caravan was occupied. James was sprawled across the double pull-out bed, sound asleep. There were other beds concealed somewhere, Bron knew, but she didn't want to crash about pulling down bunks or finding hidden mattresses. Too much like work and far too noisy. Carefully, she climbed over James so she was next to the bulkhead and lay down.

Those last few months of keeping to the edge of the bed with Roger have come in useful, she thought as she pulled the light cover that James had thrown off over herself. Then she slept.

She woke a little while later. James was still asleep. She raised herself on her elbow and watched him. His mouth was very slightly open and his shirt was half pulled out of his trousers, revealing a little triangle of flesh. She couldn't help herself. She wanted him.

She took a few deep breaths and then decided she was a modern woman – of many parts – and that she should take control of her destiny. Vanessa had implied as much. She put her hand on his shoulder. He was wearing a new shirt – she knew that because they'd discussed what he should wear for the wedding and he didn't have a decent shirt. She could feel the heat of his body through it.

Her courage increasing, she moved her hand to the buttons and pushed her fingers between them, finding his warm skin. She undid a button. He stirred slightly but didn't wake up so she undid another. When his whole torso was exposed she spent another few minutes admiring it. She had seen his chest before – and his well-muscled back – when he was working in his garden without his shirt. But she'd never had the opportunity to see it at such close quarters.