We were walking through the precinct of Cribbs Causeway when it happened. Stella had her arm linked through mine, when she dragged me towards a window of bridal dresses. “Cathy, look at these. God aren’t they beautiful? Which one shall we get?”

My stomach flipped–bridal gowns? Oh poo! How do I get her away from here without a strait-jacket? “Erm, yes, they are lovely. Do we have time to bother with these today? I thought you wanted to get to the sales?”

“But, Cathy, look–they have a sale on, too.” Before I could think of any sort of reason why I didn’t want to look in a bridal shop, she dragged me into it.

A youngish assistant wearing rather too much makeup approached us, “Can I help you ladies?”

“No thanks, we’re just browsing,” I said.

“Yes, what have you got in a twelve?” said Stella, countermanding my reply.

“Several madam, any particular colour or material or style in mind?”

Don’t do this, Stella. My brain was trying to send telepathic messages to her, instead some one behind us picked them up and I heard a voice say, “Oh I’m not doing this today.” However, it wasn’t Stella’s, she was following the saleswoman down the shop towards racks of beautiful and expensive dresses.

Could she have forgotten that her own wedding had been changed to a funeral? That reminded me, we needed the details of the service, I’d have to speak with Dave or Sue.

I walked briskly down to the shop, she was admiring dresses and the assistant was putting them out on a rail for her to see more clearly. I tried once again. “Stella, we really don’t have time for this today, why don’t we come another day and then you’ll have more time?”

“What’s wrong with today? I need a wedding dress.”

“Stella, I think you’ve forgotten something.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

“Stella, Des can’t marry you, remember the accident? Last week?”

“No, what accident was that?”

I motioned to the girl to stop. “Stella, Des was killed last week, don’t you remember?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, if something like that had happened, I’m sure he’d have told me. We’re getting married, you’re just jealous aren’t you, because he’s marrying me not you?”

“Stella, Des is dead–there is no wedding.”

“Des isn’t dead, I spoke to him yesterday, I told him I was going to look for my dress with you. I knew it was a mistake, I knew you’d be jealous. Whatever I do, you’re jealous and try to spoil it.”

If she had said this to me in normal circumstances I’d have felt cut to the quick, this had to be delayed shock, least I hoped it was. I tried to keep myself from entering her delusion.

“Stella, look come home with me and have a chat with Tom and Simon, then if I’m wrong, I’ll bring you back tomorrow.”

“We’re not open tomorra, it’s Sundee.” At the shopgirl’s words, I wanted to slap her across her stupid mouth, or say something very insulting like, ’If your brain was as only half as thick as your mascara, you’d still be a halfwit!’

“See, I know your stupid plan.” She looked at the shop assistant, “She’s trying to stop me marrying the man I love because she wants him, my brother isn’t enough, she wants my Des as well. Your lies won’t work here, Catherine Watts–you’re not Lady Cameron yet, but I am, so there.” She actually poked her tongue out at me.

“Ladies please, we don’t want any unpleasantness, this is a shop of happiness not a street corner.” An older woman had noticed Stella’s outburst, undoubtedly the shop manager or owner.

“Throw her out then, she’s the one causing the problems. I came in to purchase a wedding dress for my wedding.”

“It might be better if you were to leave, madam.” The older woman took my arm and started to escort me to the door.

“Can I have a word with you?” I said quietly, to her.

“I think you’d better just leave, you’re upsetting my customers.”

“Would you like me to return with the police and psychiatrist and have her sectioned? I did once before? Would your customers enjoy that more? She gets quite violent when they try to restrain her.”

The woman’s face drained of colour, “What is she some sort of mental case?”

“That is my sister in law, she recently got engaged to a colleague of mine. Sadly he was killed a couple of days ago while driving down to see her. She has gone into denial, she knows he’s dead, the other night we were talking to his parents about the funeral. I suspect she’s suffering from a form of amnesia from delayed shock.”

Stella was busy talking to the shop assistant who kept glancing at me, so goodness knows what she was saying. Just then the assistant came up to us and said, “Mrs Butler, could I have a word please?”

“Would you wait here please,” the older lady said to me. She then went off with the assistant and spoke for a couple of minutes. Two minutes later, she returned, Stella was still examining gowns. “You nearly had me fooled, please leave, now or I’ll call the police and have you removed.”

“Please do, maybe the same ones who told her that her fiance was dead will answer the call.”

“You're bluffing, aren’t you?”

“Am I?” I took a small card from my bag, “Call this number, and speak to Professor Agnew. Ask him he if he thinks it’s a good idea for Stella, my sister in law here,” I nodded at Stella, “to buy a wedding dress?”

“Who is he, some sort of psychiatrist?”

“No he’s my boss at the university.”

“Professor of what?”

“Biological sciences. I’m a lecturer in the same.”

“I don’t know, if we upset Lady Cameron, we could have big problems.”

“No you won’t, I’ll speak to Henry.”

“Who’s Henry?”

“Her dad, Viscount Stanebury.”

“Oh shit, why did this have to happen the day before I go on holiday?” asked the older lady.

“I’m sure it’s delayed shock, go and call Tom and ask him to come and help me get her home.”

“I don’t know, Mrs..erm.”

“Cathy, will do. Look I’ll wait outside; out of sight of Stella.”

“I don’t want any trouble,” the woman said and I felt quite sorry for her. I looked up and Stella was going into the changing area with the assistant.

“Hurry and call Tom, I’ll be outside.” I left the shop, wondering what on earth to do next. I picked up my mobile and speed dialled Simon.

“Hi, Babes, look I’m kinda busy, can I call you back?”

“Simon, this is urgent, Stella has gone funny in a bridal shop…” I gave him a brief account of the event. “ I don’t know what to do, but I’m going to need help.”

“I’ll call the clinic where she stayed before, maybe they can advise us. If she goes funny, get the cops. I’ll get back to you.”

I stood just down the mall from the shop, clutching my phone and feeling very anxious. The longest five minutes in the history of time elapsed before my phone pinged and vibrated. I snapped the button, “Yes, Si?”

“It’s Tom, I’m on my way. I called the police and spoke to one of the officers who brought the bad news from Ghent. She’s on her way too. Be there in ten.”

I waited some more–not much else I could do. Poor Stella, why do these things always have to happen to her? I glanced down the mall and two police officers were moving towards me at a rapid walk, one was a woman. I hoped it was the one we wanted.

“Are you Cathy?” she asked.

“Yes, how did you know?”

“You’re the only one in this Nirvana of consumerism who looks as if she didn’t want to be here.”

“She’s in there. Look, I’m sure it’s delayed shock, she’s lovely really.”

“It’s okay, Cathy, you wait here, I’ll get her out.” So saying, she marched into the shop and spoke with the manageress and ten minutes later escorted Stella from the shop.

“If you don’t feel too well, I’d better get you home.” Stella took my arm and led me towards the car as my mouth gaped open. Just then Tom arrived, trotting towards us. “It’s okay, Tom, I was bringing her home anyway,” Stella smiled at him.

“Oh, alright then, shall I drive?” He offered and I handed him my keys.

“Will you be alright now, madam?” the policewoman asked me.

“I think so, thanks for your help.” She slipped a card into my hand and winked.

“Come on girls, let’s go home,” said Tom and we walked to the car.