The wedding of the season?

Spotted: Malak Yacoubi, home from Greece with a tan, a ring, and the particular glow of a woman with excellent news she has no intention of announcing herself. Casablanca noticed within the hour. Casablanca always does.

She has spent the week gliding through the city's best tables the way only a hometown favourite can, greeted everywhere, hurried nowhere. A summer that ended on a Greek clifftop has, it seems, agreed with her enormously.

Whoever lands this wedding becomes, overnight, the most talked-about name in town.

The details are being guarded like a state secret, which of course only sharpens the city's appetite for them. What we hear: the plan leans intimate, family and the innermost circle rather than a cast of thousands. The organisers, tellingly, have not yet been chosen. Every event planner in Casablanca is currently pretending not to wait by the phone.

Understand the mathematics of it. A grand Casablanca wedding is a spectacle; a deliberately small one is a quiet competition for invitations. This will be the latter, and it will be discussed long after the last guest has gone home.

Congratulations, Malak. We will be watching, from a polite and admiring distance, as ever. ■