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‘I’m in the kitchen,’ she said slowly. ‘I’m crying because of the venueand because my mum texted me to tell me she wouldn’t come to the wedding. I have the certificate in my hand and I’m thinking I must put it away before I soak it with tears. So I think of somewhere safe. So I went to … to …’ Her eyes shot open. ‘Kerrie’s bag!’ she yelled. ‘I knew I could trust her more than myself.’

Kerrie shot out into the other room and retrieved her bag. She yanked it openand a folded piece of paper fell out, fluttering to the floor like confetti.

‘Oh, thank you, sweet Jesus!’ Kerrie shouted. ‘I have it.’

‘What’s with you two? I thought you humanists didn’t thank Jesus, Mary or St Joseph for anything,’ Jenny said drily.

They all burst out laughing.

‘Quick,’ said Lucy, ‘give it to me.’

They finalized the paperwork, and by a quarter to two the guests were arriving,the scene was set and the two brides had calmed down after their fright. Darren had insisted on pouring them a glug of brandy each – ‘Medicinal,’ he assured them – so the atmosphere had mellowed considerably.

Debbie kept peeping out of the back room.

‘She’s not coming, Deb, you have to accept it,’ Kerrie said.

‘I’m sorry about your mum. It’s tough on you.’ Sarah patted Debbie on the back.

‘Jesus, will you stop? She’ll start crying again. I need dry make-up,’ Jenny huffed.

‘It’s just the two of us. My dad died when I was ten. I thought she’d come around. Oh, well …’ Debbie choked up again.

‘I’m your family now, Deb.’ Kerrie kissed her.

Lucy went out to the room to greet guests and ascertain how many were there. She checked the candles, made sure the niece and her boyfriend hadall they needed, persuaded the uncle not to give her an early rendition of his speech and made sure Kerrie’s great-aunt Maggie was seated comfortably. Then she asked the guests to take their seats, or perch, and be ready to greet the bride and bride.

In the back room, Debbie and Kerrie were hand in hand.

‘Are you ready to get married?’ Lucy asked.

They nodded.

‘Right. Here we go.’

As Lucystepped out from the back room, the front door of the salon burst open. A woman in her seventies tripped over the lip of the doorframe and stumbled in.

Lucy rushed over to help her to her feet. Debbie charged out of the back room. ‘Mum? Are you okay?’

‘It’s bad enough that you’re marrying a lesbian, but did you really have to get married in a hairdressing salon? Really and truly.’

‘Hi. I’mLucy, the celebrant. Can I get you a chair?’

The woman straightened up and brushed down her jacket. ‘No, thank you. I’m going to be walking my daughter up the aisle, or the salon floor or whatever this is.’

Debbie’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Mum. That means the world to me.’

Her mother pursed her lips. ‘You’re all I’ve got, Debbie – I can’t lose you. I don’t like it, but I’ll try.’

‘That’sall I’m asking, Mum.’

‘Stop!’ Jenny came over holding a make-up brush. ‘Mum, step back, please. Debbie, look at me. Look up.’ Jenny filled in the tear marks on Debbie’s face. ‘Right, ladies, no more tears. This is supposed to be a happy occasion.’

Lucy ushered Debbie and her mum to the back room and told Kerrie to come out and wait beside her. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place as Debbie andher mum walked through the salon, arm in arm.

Lucy was reminded of something her mum, Tina, used to say: ‘Love is family and family is love.’