The night before my wedding I heard my maid of honour through the hotel wall saying they'd pour wine on my dress and lose the rings. I recorded four minutes of it with my phone against the connecting door.

I want to put down what those ninety minutes actually were, because people picture me plotting and it was not that.

For about the first forty I did nothing at all. I sat on the end of a bed in a hotel room with my shoes still on and listened to four women next door going to bed.

One of them used the bathroom. Somebody put a hairdryer on for about a minute. Then the light went off under the connecting door and it was quiet.

And I sat there and I was not angry.

That is the part I cannot explain to anybody. I was waiting to be angry, the way you wait to be sick, and it did not come, and it still has not.

What I had instead was a list.

Where is the dress. Who has the rings. Who has the schedule. Who is in which room. Who do I actually trust in this building at two in the morning.