From the bus stop on York Place I travelled just two stops. Nearing my destination, the grumpy bus driver scraped the vehicle down an incredibly narrow street and pulled up next to the main of St James Centre. Here I was to join my sister-in-law SM and her friends for her hen party in Uptons’ department store. My mother also promised to come along.

We were barely through the doors when a small, dumpy wedding guest reached over to a rail of cornflower blue taffeta dresses, rapidly chose one, then raced straight to the till to pay for it without even trying it on. I realised that I would have to act fast if I were to get my first choice of outfit on this shopping expedition for the wedding day.

We ended up taking a break in the shop’s café. I was anxious that my mother had not yet turned up. I checked my phone every couple of minutes to see if she had made contact, and tried her number a few times, but she was nowhere to be found.

Meanwhile as I admired another shopper’s green satin shoes, one of the other hen party members attempted to persuade my god-daughter that she would enjoy a long coastal walk. The latter was unconvinced.