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It’s Sunday. Party day. And the gang is all together.

‘Ready?’

We’re huddling up for a group photograph before entering the nursing home. The camera is balanced on the brick wall and May is making one final check on the composition before she presses the timer.

‘Here we go!’ she calls before scurrying to join us.

I pull her close as she channels Robin Williams from Mork & Mindy – thumbs hooked in her rainbow braces, arms clad in a stripy T-shirt, legs hidden beneath baggy, peg-pleat trousers.

‘I can hardly bare to look at those!’ Jay tuts, setting the pearl drop in his headband a-jangling.

He switched his outfit choice at the last minute to Rachel from Friends in her opening scene wedding dress. I think we all secretly knew this was going to happen but we oohed and aahed nonetheless because he’d clearly gone to so much trouble with the embellishments and even has wet-look hair.

Charlotte and Marcus have stuck to the script as Margo and Jerry from The Good Life, even if they are now spiritually more on a par with Tom and Barbara.

Gareth is doing his best with an Irish accent to convince as Father Ted but visually looks much more like James Norton in Grantchester. I am not complaining.

As for me, I ended up as Polly from Fawlty Towers. The outfit is fairly simple – a pale blue dress with a white pinny and bow – but I’m loving the bulbous bouffant bun of my hair. I feel like a cross between a seventies perfume ad and Barbra Streisand in Hello, Dolly. Gareth leans in and nuzzles at the bare back of my neck, causing me to shiver-shudder in delight. I find myself constantly reaching to touch him, even though every inch of him is covered up, from his black boots to his clerical collar.

‘Oh look!’ Charlotte cheers as we enter the building. ‘The Vicar of Dibley!’

‘I have to get a picture of you two!’ May positions Gareth directly behind the female vicar so that their heads and dog collars align. ‘Perfect!’ she cheers then asks the woman’s name so she can send her a copy of the pic.

‘Geraldine,’ she replies.

May hesitates. ‘Is that your character name or your actual name?’

‘Ummm . . .’ The woman looks anxious.

‘Not to worry,’ I step in. ‘You look wonderful, that’s all that matters!’

‘May I escort you to the dance floor?’ Gareth offers her his arm.

‘Oh, yes please!’ she beams up at him.

‘I’m guessing there’s going to be quite a bit of identity confusion today,’ Charlotte notes as we follow behind.

‘Either that or they’ll end up recognising more faces than normal,’ Marcus counters.

There’s certainly going to be plenty of musical recognition with the sitcom soundtrack Lidia has compiled – everything from Last of the Summer Wine to Cheers. Apparently music is especially good for conjuring memories in dementia patients. And everyone else for that matter . . .

‘They’re playing my song!’ Jay cheers as we enter the community lounge to ‘I’ll Be There For You’.

We immediately start dancing with imaginary tambourines, feeling a rush of good vibes, reaching for as many soft, crinkly hands as we can.

The nursing home typically feels like a sleepy, tinkering-along place, with the odd bit of squabbling or commotion and a tinge or two of melancholy. Today guests are buzzing and eager to get moving, grooving and, well, confessing.

‘Just go with it.’ I give Gareth my blessing as another little old lady tugs at his sleeve, eager to whisper her secrets to him.

The rest of us have decided we want a copy of the playlist, loving all the cosy, familiar feelings it is conjuring, until the jangly piano of Will & Grace strikes up and May clutches at her heart.

‘Oh my god, this reminds me of Mum.’

Jay looks equally wistful. ‘Remember how we’d all do the bare tummy bump at the start?’

‘I miss her so much!’ May cries out.

‘Can I get you two a drink?’ Marcus asks, eyes full of concern.

‘I’ll help you,’ Charlotte offers. ‘I know what they like.’

I guide the twins to the side of the room so they can take a moment.

‘She would’ve loved today,’ May sighs, leaning back onto the wall. ‘Seeing everyone dressed up and playing a part.’

‘That was her favourite bit of modelling,’ Jay nods. ‘Never knowing who she was going to be at each shoot.’

I can already see how the costumes are bringing out a different side to the residents, from the excessive flirtiness of les Blanche Devereaux to the puce-faced bluster of assorted Captain Mainwarings.

‘I certainly saw your mum in a whole new light when I was getting her ready.’

I frown back at Jay. ‘You were here earlier?’

‘I wanted to help her into her outfit.’

I’m about to say, ‘That’s very nice of you but she can still zip a skirt!’ when I catch sight of a woman dropping jaws and widening eyes in her black satin corset, mid-thigh leather mini and over-the-knee PVC boots. Her hair is a wild, tousled mane. All that’s missing is a whip.

‘Oh my god!’ My hand goes to my mouth as the recognition hits. ‘What did you do to her?’

‘Exactly what she asked for.’

‘Jay, she wanted to come as Roz from Frasier!’

‘That is Roz from Frasier,’ he insists. ‘In her Halloween costume from season five, episode three.’

I stumble towards her in shock. ‘I can’t believe you talked her into this!’

‘This was all her,’ Jay protests, hurrying after me. ‘She had reference pictures on her wall and everything.’

‘So Lidia knew?’ I can’t believe this.

‘She said she’d spoken to you about it.’

Hmm. This actually rings a bell. I think she did try to broach the subject at the hospital . . .

‘Honestly, if you’d seen her laughing when we were backcombing her hair . . .’

‘Really?’ I soften. ‘She does look happy.’

‘And super hot.’

‘Maybe a little too hot. I’m worried about Malcolm’s ticker.’

‘It’s not his ticker you should be worried about,’ May chimes in. ‘Anyway, you reckon she’s only been with your father, it can’t hurt for her to take on the persona of a powerfully promiscuous woman for one afternoon.’

‘She really does seem to be in her element,’ I concede, watching admirer after admirer sidle up.

‘Here!’ Marcus hands me a plastic cup of squash.

I knock it back in one, only to splutter at the burn.

‘I meant to say – I topped off our drinks with my flask.’

‘Really?’ May takes an appreciative sip and then eyes Marcus. ‘You know, you are almost impossible to dislike.’

Marcus looks chuffed, seemingly understanding what a compliment this is coming from May.

‘Ooh – she’s finally free!’ I break away to catch my mum en route to the refreshments. ‘Mum! Mum!’

She turns around to face me, frowning as she looks me up and down. My heart sinks.

‘Polly?’ she finally speaks. ‘Polly from Fawlty Towers?’

‘Yes!’ I cheer.

‘Oh darling, you look lovely with your hair up!’

‘And you look amazing with everything up – and out!’

‘I’ve never had so much attention!’ she beams.

‘You deserve it. Oh, watch out – incoming Marty Crane!’ I step back to allow the silver-haired chap in a red check shirt to make his move.

When she accepts his invitation to dance he boldly casts aside his aluminium walking stick and clutches her to him, as if merging for a tango.

I watch transfixed as the pair of them traverse the floor with surprising coordination and intensity.

‘May!’ I beckon to my friend. ‘Could you get some snaps of my mum dancing?’

‘I’m way ahead of you, kid,’ she says, showing me the latest images on her phone.

‘Oh, look at the pair of them!’

‘Adorable,’ she agrees. ‘An elderly lumberjack cutting a rug with his dominatrix.’

I can’t help but smile.

‘Check out these gems.’ May scrolls through a selection of the slightly surreal moments happening all around us.

I tilt my head. ‘Why May Day, have you got your mojo back?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘You said you were tiring of fashion girls . . .’ I prompt.

‘This could be my new project!’ she gasps. ‘I could have an exhibition right here on all these blank walls.’

‘I bet Lidia would be all for it, she’s been dying to jazz things up. I haven’t seen her yet. Wait!’ I do a double take.

As does May.

The woman we have only ever seen in her plainer-than-plain work uniform has the I Dream of Jeannie outfit down to perfection – platinum blonde ponytail, petite red velvet bolero, gauzy pink harem pants and ruched bikini top with a tantalising tassle. The tattoos are a surprise addition, all her own.

‘She seems to be having trouble opening that bottle,’ May notes.

‘Ironic for a genie,’ I mutter.

‘I’m going to help her.’

I watch as May makes her approach, opens the bottle in one deft move and then pours two glasses of cider. Lidia blushes alluringly as they clink.

‘Well, what do you know . . .’ I mutter to myself.

‘They make a cute couple.’ Charlotte is quick to catch on as she joins me.

‘I actually think this could be a match,’ I concur. ‘Lidia won’t put up with any nonsense and May wouldn’t have any trust issues with someone as genuine as Lidia.’

Charlotte smiles. ‘Our family is expanding!’

‘It is, isn’t it?’ I sigh. ‘There was May worrying that we’re fragmenting when really we’re just adding new members.’

‘Come on, girls, it’s time to do-do-do the conga!’ Marcus jollies us along.

‘Is this wise?’ I frown. ‘If one goes down, they all go down!’

‘It seems to be more shuffling than kicking. Plus, they’re interspersing the younger folk to add some stability to the chain.’

‘Come on!’ Charlotte finds an opening and we shuffle along, coordinating every once in a while from sheer chance, getting more hysterical with every step.

As the music changes, it occurs to me that so much of what we need to be truly happy is right under our noses. We might believe sipping a cocktail on a Tahitian beach is the goal but there are a lot of surprisingly satisfying alternatives. Take Gareth. As much as I’d like to have his hands on my hips right now, it’s giving me even more pleasure to watch him slow-dance in the corner with a stooped woman who barely comes up to his chest. Her eyes are closed as if she has ‘Moon River’ playing in her head.

I go to move towards him but Malcolm blocks my path.

Well, actually it’s Malcolm as David Brent from The Office, complete with fluffy yellow Emu costume.

‘Gosh. Malcolm. That’s quite a look.’

‘Yes, yes.’ He pushes past me to get to Jay. ‘Are you one of those transgenders?’

Oh dear.

‘I’m just a human who likes to dress any way I please.’

‘Hmm,’ Malcolm grunts. ‘I heard you got Sophie in that outfit.’ He looks lustily in her direction.

‘I did. And you’re welcome,’ Jay smirks.

‘Could you do the same for me?’

‘Well, I was going to say those PVC boots don’t come in your size but I actually know a place that has them up to a size 14.’

‘Really?’ His eyes light up.

‘Wait, are you serious?’ Jay gasps.

‘I’ve just always wondered, you know, what my drag alter ego would look like.’

‘Well, it’s going to take more than one flourish of my magic wand to make that transformation,’ Jay informs him, eyeing his beard. ‘What have you got hiding under here?’

As Jay starts foraging for a jawline, Malcolm seems startled by his touch. ‘I – I don’t know. I’ve had it for as long as I remember.’

‘Do you want to find out what is underneath? Together?’

Malcolm’s usual bluster evaporates and his watery eyes fill with concern.

‘I know it’s scary showing the world who you are, trust me,’ Jay soothes. ‘But I think it’s time.’

Malcolm looks back over at my mother. ‘Do you think it could make certain people look at me a different way?’

‘It would be a start,’ Jay encourages. ‘There might be a few behaviours you can shed while you’re at it. You know, leave it all on the barbershop floor.’

Malcolm nods and then leans in. ‘Can we do it now, before I lose my nerve?’

‘My clippers are already vibrating,’ Jay assures him. ‘Come on, show me your room.’

Gareth joins me to watch the unlikely pairing totter off, Malcolm graciously offering Jay his arm so he can scoop up the excess of his wedding dress with his free hand. ‘There’s some kind of magic in the air today, isn’t there?’ I muse.

‘Speaking of air, would you like to get some with me?’ Gareth takes my hand.

‘It’s a shame Claire has locked the staircase or we could go up on the roof,’ I note as we head out the door.

Gareth raises an eyebrow. ‘We should probably check that lock.’

‘It’s just along here . . .’ I point down the corridor.

‘Can you keep an eye out?’ He motions for me to turn back towards the party.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Give me two minutes.’

I lean on the wall, trying to look casual while humming along to ‘Hooky Street’ from Only Fools and Horses. ‘This market banter is a bit like a cockney rap, isn’t it?’

‘Amy!’ I hear Gareth hiss my name and turn to find him beckoning me through an open door.

‘How did you do that?’ I gasp as I hurry over.

‘There are still a few things you don’t know about me.’

‘Like you’re a cat burglar on the sly?’

‘Or maybe that my uncle is a locksmith.’

‘A likely story,’ I tut as we climb up to the roof. ‘I am so getting you a black polo neck for Christmas.’

‘Oh wow!’ Gareth stalls as we emerge, taking in the shimmering cityscape, the park treetops, the flowing river, the gracious bridge and the most pleasing of breezes.

‘Isn’t it beautiful up here?’

He steps towards the railing, surveying our kingdom. ‘It’s funny, this is my neighbourhood but I’ve never seen it from this perspective before.’

‘Mum always seemed so blissed out here – like she’d given her cares the slip,’ I say, snuggling under his arm.

Gareth is quiet for a moment. ‘There might be a way for her to feel like that again.’

I shake my head. ‘Claire would never allow it after her fall.’

‘I was actually thinking about down there on the water – a sunset cruise along the Thames . . . Do you think she’d find it relaxing, gliding along, watching the sky change colour and the bridge lights come on . . .?’

I sigh with delight. ‘Yes!’

‘There’s just so many things we can do together now.’ Gareth sighs contentedly. ‘You said we were properly old in the premonition?’

‘Super wrinkly,’ I confirm and then tilt my head at him. ‘Is that a tad daunting?’

‘Not at all,’ he assures me. ‘It’s what I’ve always wanted: to have one true love – and to have that one true love be you.’

For a moment I lose myself in the warmth of his eyes and then melt into his kiss. Familiar yet new. Thrilling yet comforting.

‘There is one question I have about your sneak peek into the future . . .’ he says as we take a breath.

‘Yes?’

‘Did I still have my hair?’

I burst out laughing. ‘You’re going to be a total silver fox!’ I insist as I forage in his soft curls. ‘But everything else that happens between now and then, that’s for us to discover together.’

‘Like whether we’ll have plant-themed latte art at The Botanist?’

‘You know, just this morning I watched a YouTube video on how to etch a cactus in the froth.’

‘We’re golden then,’ he beams. And then he gets a very particular look in his eye.

‘What are you thinking?’

His hand slips to the small of my back, pulling me close so that our hip bones bump. ‘I’m just wondering how it will feel sleeping beside you tonight . . .’ I can feel the heat between us, the magnetic, pulsing charge. My head starts to swirl – the anticipation of skin on skin is too delicious – but then our phones start buzzing in unison. We leap apart, as if a mild taser has been applied to our groins.

‘That’ll teach me to try skipping ahead,’ Gareth chuckles as we reach into our respective pockets.

As suspected, we are being summoned back to the party.

I’m torn. I want to prolong the heavenly sensation of being in his arms, but I also want to see Malcolm’s chin and add my name to my mum’s dance card.

‘We can do it all,’ Gareth assures me. ‘Together forever, one minute at a time.’

‘I love that!’ My eyes light up. ‘Do you think we should get that tattooed?’

‘Maybe in our seventies.’

I smile back at him. This is going to be so much fun . . .

*

As we rejoin the party I realise that my mum doesn’t yet know that Gareth and I are an item. I can’t wait to tell her.

‘Finally!’ She heaves a sigh of relief as we present ourselves. ‘All this talk of mystery men at the wedding had me worried.’

‘What?’

‘You don’t need a premonition to predict a happy future for the pair of you. I never wanted to say anything in case you got all contrary like I did when my mum insisted Pete was The One.’

This makes my shoulders slump. ‘To think you could have had a true love all this time.’

‘I did,’ she says. ‘I do.’

I sigh. It makes me sad that she still thinks of Dad that way.

‘For over thirty years I’ve had you,’ she continues.

I force a smile. ‘Well, I’m glad I can be something of a consolation prize.’

‘You are not second best, Amy. You were my first choice. I chose you, you know that, don’t you?’

I look to Gareth and then back to her. ‘How do you mean?’

‘When I kissed your father I knew he was going to leave me – I saw him walking out the door, but I also saw you.’

My stomach drops. ‘What?’

‘I saw you in my vision. And I felt a love for you like nothing I had ever known. You were my girl. The biggest part of my heart. If I didn’t go forward with Jimmy, I knew I would never get to be with you, never get to hold you in my arms as a baby, never get to hear you call me Mum, never get to see your life unfold. And that would be a far greater heartbreak for me.’

‘But, but . . .’

‘I didn’t say I didn’t love him. I did. I do. Because he gave me you.’

Now my eyes are tingling and the tears start to flow.

‘I love you, Mum!’ I say as I fall into her arms.

‘Oh sweetheart,’ she talks into my hair. ‘I know it’s hard for you. To see me come and go. But you have to know my love for you is eternal.’

And then she reaches out and pulls Gareth into the hug. I could happily stay in this embrace forever but a certain exaggerated cough is trying to get our attention.

‘Yes, Jay?’ I say, noticing he has also assembled May, Lidia, Charlotte and Marcus, who is distributing a fresh round of drinks.

‘So I need to present Malcolm to you but not as the tall blonde from Third Rock from the Sun as I originally intended. There are two reasons for this: firstly, it turns out he has a hot nephew living in Manhattan so I am going to string this process out.’

‘Okay.’

‘Secondly, well, you know how he previously had grooming skills on a par with a highland cow?’

I can’t help but chuckle – it’s a fair comparison, such an unruly mess of hair and facial fuzz.

‘Well, now he looks like a rather more distinguished Scottish icon.’

He steps aside to reveal what is essentially Sean Connery circa Entrapment.

We blink in disbelief.

‘Malcolm?’ It takes my mother a moment to recognise him. With a mix of curiosity and wonder her hand reaches to touch his face, running her manicured fingertips over the area where his raggle-taggle beard once was. ‘I didn’t know you had a mouth.’

‘All the better to kiss you with,’ he says, somehow managing to sound more sincere than wolfish.

My mother raises a brow and then looks at me. ‘Do you dare me?’

I gasp. And then bite my lip. ‘Why not?’ I encourage. What’s a party without a party trick?

We watch spellbound as she raises up on her tiptoes, gently guiding his face to hers. As their lips meet, his eyes close in rapture and I watch nervously as my mother experiences the rushing, warping intensity I know so well. I prepare to steady her but then her face lights up.

‘Malcolm,’ she breathes as she takes a step back. ‘I had no idea!’

‘What did you see?’ I squeal. ‘How did it end?’

Mum turns to give me a knowing smile. ‘I think we’ve had enough talk about endings, haven’t we?’

She’s got a point.

I reach back for Jay, without looking where I’m putting my hand.

‘Oi!’ He smacks my wrist. ‘I’m saving that for the honeymoon!’

‘Sorry,’ I chuckle. ‘I just wanted to thank you for transforming my mum and Malcolm – and for adding a whole new dimension to their time here.’

‘Well, you know me, I live to liberate.’

I give him a kiss on the cheek, careful not to tangle with his veil, and then sigh as I look around the group. ‘Now I’m done with the fast-forwarding aspect of my life, you know what I wish I could do?’

‘What?’

‘Press pause, right now.’

‘No you don’t.’

‘Yes, I do – everyone I love is in one place, everyone is so happy . . .’

‘Yes, but if you paused life here, then May and Lidia would never get their first kiss, you’d never get your first night with Gareth—’

‘Oh!’

‘We wouldn’t find out where Marcus and Charlotte’s philanthropy leads or whether I make it in New York. And your mum wouldn’t get to experience for real what she just got a flash of in her premonition . . .’

‘Well, when you put it like that . . .’

‘If you’re going to wish for anything, why not wish to fully embrace the present moment?’

‘Okay, wise one,’ I nod. ‘I’ll drink to that!’

‘You’ll drink to anything!’

‘Cheek!’ I say, then urge everyone to raise their plastic cups in a toast.

‘What are we toasting to?’ May wants to know.

‘To embracing the present moment!’ I cheer, adding, ‘And each other!’ as I catch Gareth’s eye.

He smiles dreamily and pulls me into his chest. Then just when I think my heart can’t swell any more, I realize a mass hug is layering around us – vicars and genies, husbands and wives, mothers and daughters, friends and lovers, all forming one giant embrace. I take a long breath in as I nuzzle deeper, knowing this is the feeling I want to carry with me for the rest of my life.