Sipping my drink, I looked around the huddles of my family and friends, all chatting and laughing.
Weddings were always such a lovely occasion but today, I felt a little on edge.
‘So lovely to see you, Bep,’ a family friend beamed. ‘Your hair looks different.’
Self-consciously, I gave it a pat, then forced a smile back. ‘How are you?’ I said, smoothly, I hoped.
After a few minutes’ conversation, she drifted off into the crowds and I breathed a sigh of relief.
It was no wonder my hair looked different. I was undergoing chemotherapy, and having lost most of my real hair, I was wearing a wig. But I wasn’t going to tell anyone at the wedding. In fact, hardly anyone knew what I was going through.
