A Beautiful Day for a Wedding: This year’s Bridget Jones!. Charlotte Butterfield

leaving her with a stockpile of perfumes and make-up for photoshoots, impromptu birthday presents for friends, and exactly what was needed for situations just like this.

      A minute later Eve found herself waddling down Bond Street as fast as the skin-tight mermaid-style dress would allow, her face full of blusher, her lips a vibrant coral colour – since Fiona had vetoed corals in the magazine, the beauty cupboard was heaving with them – and smelling of a putrid perfume that had evidently been in the recesses of the cupboard for far too long.

      ‘Darling!’ Her mum rose to greet her, wrinkling her nose as she gave her a hug.

      Her brother wasn’t quite so subtle. ‘What’s that whiff? Eau de balsamic?’

      ‘It’s Chanel.’

      ‘And what are you wearing?’

      ‘My new dress.’

      ‘Didn’t they have it in your size?’

      ‘They did, and I’m wearing it. Anything else?’

      ‘Your lipstick. Didn’t you know that no one’s wearing orange any more?’

      ‘It’s coral, and yes they are, I am.’

      ‘You two, stop it.’ Eve’s mum, Faye, stepped in. ‘Can we please try and have a civilised dinner without you two resorting to hair pulling?’

      Eve and Adam smiled. Their squabbling sibling routine was as fun as it was familiar. They were Irish twins, having been born just eleven months apart, which left them sharing the same age for one month every year. Eve had always been thankful that she was the eldest, so she came before him in the introductions, otherwise the comedy value in their names might have presented more of a problem growing up. Their dad had gone through a brief religious phase around the time of their births, but it could have been worse; Bathsheba and Moses were also contenders.

      ‘Sorry I’m late Mum, work’s been a bit crazy.’ Eve took a grateful glug of the champagne that the hovering waiter poured out for her but made a silent note to convince them all to switch to house wine after the bottle was finished.

      ‘You’re here now, that’s what matters. Anyway, they haven’t even brought the menus yet.’ Faye put her hand over her daughter’s. ‘It feels like I haven’t seen you two in ages, what’s going on in your lives?’

      Eve started regaling them with stories of Tanya’s hen weekend, and as she got to the part where they slept in their cars, Faye snorted wine out of her nose. ‘Oh Eve.’

      ‘I know. I know. Bad bridesmaid.’

      ‘That’s hilarious,’ Adam said. ‘I bet Tanya was livid.’

      ‘Is livid. There’s no past tense yet.’

      ‘Well, I hope you perform better at my stag do.’

      ‘Speaking of which, have you decided if you and George want a joint one, or separate ones? You’ve got most of the same friends, but if you want a night out flirting with male strippers for the last time without him there, then speak now or forever hold your peace.’

      ‘I have never, or will ever, flirt with a male stripper.’

      ‘Thank goodness for that,’ Faye said in mock horror. ‘The thought makes me quite queasy.’

      ‘Says the woman who is internet dating,’ Eve jibed. ‘How’s that going?’

      Faye waited until the waiter had taken their order and was safely out of earshot before quietly replying. ‘The three I’ve had have been very useful. Ian came to put up my shelves last weekend, Gavin works at the same hospital, so we now car share twice a week which is saving me petrol money, and Harry put me in touch with a rock choir that I now sing with every Tuesday, so not a waste of time at all.’

      ‘You’re meant to be finding a soul mate Mum, not a handyman, taxi service or a hobby.’

      ‘I found my soul mate thirty-five years ago Eve, the chances of finding another one, are pretty slim.’

      The mention of their dad made a silence fall over the table. News of his accident had come in the form of the phone call every child dreaded receiving, especially one living as far away as Eve had been. She’d packed up her life in New York the night of his crash, had boarded the next available flight from JFK and still arrived three hours after he’d taken his last breath. Their mum was a shell of what she had been before, her life shattered in one moment by a woman who’d had too many drinks at a work party and thought calling a cab was too much hassle. Eve had moved in with Faye for a while – one of them had to. It took Faye a couple of months before she felt ready to leave the house, and even then, it was only to a neighbour’s for tea. Anything more taxing took a few more months. She had to be reminded to brush her hair, to eat, to answer the phone, the door. Then one day, an estate agent turned up, hammering a ‘For Sale’ sign up outside her house. Eve and Adam had pleaded with Faye to give herself some time, to wait. But Faye’s mind was set. She didn’t want to sit watching television alone in the same room she’d watched it with him for thirty-five years. She knew that one more night sleeping in their bedroom, in their marital bed where they’d made love hundreds, if not thousands of times, and conceived two children, was one night too many. Standing in front of the hob stirring a single can of soup in a pan for her evening meal, when the same hob had yielded huge family feasts in the past and countless Christmas dinners, had given her a pang in her chest so painful she had to steady herself by holding on to the counter until it had passed.

      Shaving fifty thousand off the valuation meant the house sold the same day the sign was hoisted up, even before photos had been taken of it, or the estate agent had a chance to describe the garden as ‘pleasantly South facing, a stone’s throw from the delights of Brighton’s city centre and seafront.’ Eve looked at her mum across the table in this fancy London restaurant. She’d retrained as a therapist, lost a stone, had her blonde hair feathered and highlighted, and sold her trusted slow cooker on eBay. Apart from the easy humour and warmth she still exuded, there was little to recognise from the mother they’d grown up with.

      ‘Speaking of soul mates, Eve, do you need a plus one for our wedding?’ Adam asked.

      ‘No, you’re alright.’

      ‘Come on darling,’ Faye cajoled. ‘It’s only the middle of May now, their wedding isn’t until August. Everything could change in that time, this might be the impetus you need to meet someone.’

      Eve didn’t want to use the same words that Faye had just done about already finding her soul mate once and the chances of meeting another one being pretty slim, but she couldn’t stop herself thinking it.

      ‘So is that a yes, you need a plus one or no?’ Adam said. ‘I need to know.’

      ‘Right now?’ Eve asked. ‘Your wedding is in August, why do you need to know now?’

      Adam tapped the table impatiently. ‘Yes or no?’

      ‘Yes,’ Faye interrupted. ‘Yes for both of us. Two and a half months is plenty enough time for us both to find nice companions to bring, isn’t it Eve? It’s good to have a goal.’

      Having been single for four years Eve didn’t think that ten weeks was anywhere near long enough to become coupled up again, but she didn’t say so.

      ‘Speaking of plus ones,’ Faye added casually. ‘Are either of you doing anything in three weekends’ time, on the 25th?’

      ‘Absolutely nothing,’ replied Eve. ‘Thank God. It’s my only hen-free, wedding-free weekend of the whole summer.’

      ‘Oh. Never mind then.’

      ‘Why do you ask?’

      ‘You know your dad’s cousin, Thomas? The one that lives in Dartmouth? Well, his daughter Leila is getting married at Kew Gardens and I’ve got a plus one, and Ivy was going to come with me, but she’s having her hip replacement then. I haven’t got the nerve to tell Judy, Thomas’s wife,