Muffin was thrilled to see her, acting as though they had been separated for months and throwing his tiny furry self all over her like a hyper-rodent on heat. His small pink tongue attacking her hands and face ferociously when she tried to sit down on her bed. She barely had time to rustle up something to eat before she needed to start getting ready and realised her answer machine was flashing with a ton of messages.

Every single one of them was from Abby. Checking in. Sharing excitement. Confirming eight pm at the front car park. Describing her final choice of dress and finally wishing her luck. Every call...