I was waiting outside Birdham St James church for the instruction to change into my wedding outfit when TPR asked me to accompany him and our brother-in-law RH to the Isle of Lewis. I jumped into the car, and before long we found ourselves in the Outer Hebrides.

What I hadn’t appreciated was that the bride and groom intended to marry in private on Uig Sands (in the rain, unfortunately), then travel back to Birdham for the church ceremony. Nor did I know that I was meant to be participating with TPR and RH in both events. It was alright for the two of them: they were already dressed in their morning suits. I, however, was wearing a worn and faded black linen skirt, a tatty old jumper, and lilac pop socks. There was no way that I would appear in public in such an outfit.

So, while TPR and RH headed off to the first part of the ceremony (with a woman called Andrea in a yellow trouser suit), I spent the rest of the day racing around the island by myself. Although the car brakes weren’t working and I didn’t wear a seatbelt, I somehow survived my designed-on-the-fly Hebridean rally course.