My eyes are wide because he’s just wrongfooted me again. ‘Watch me, I just did. Thanks all the same, but I don’t do beer.’ There’s a certain satisfaction in seeing his jaw drop, even if I’m getting the feeling he can’t wait to get rid of me. Although, seriously, I doubt I’d be this sassy if I hadn’t just sungLet it goso many times.
For a guy in shock, he picks himself up surprisingly fast. ‘So, Holly Berry, what are you doing tomorrow? With the pre-Christmas rush at Huntley and Handsome, I’ve got to go into work. But you and Gracie seem to get on so well, I’m sure Immie would appreciate a hand with the kids if you’re at a loose end.’ He holds a bottle up to the light and scrutinises it. ‘These beauties don’t happen all on their own, you know.’
I pull a face. ‘You don’t say.’ As for this ‘hand with the kids’, read a full day’s free child care, without appreciation. Whatever happened to Rory having it sorted? ‘Sorry, I’m tied up all day tomorrow.’
Rory frowns. ‘Aren’t you on holiday?’
Not that it’s any of his business, but I try to sound nonchalant. ‘I’m actually snowed under with computer work.’ That covers editing a few thousand pictures. But he doesn’t need to know that. I dive into my coat and haul my camera bag over my shoulder. ‘No time to lose. I’d better run.’ And no idea why I didn’t just say I’m covering at the shop.
‘Careful you don’t die of boredom.’ Rory’s fleeting grin fades as I move towards the door. ‘You do know I wouldn’t have dragged you up here if it hadn’t been an emergency, Berry.’
It takes a moment for his words to sink in. ‘It was a panic not a crisis.’ If I’m sounding snappy it’s because it couldn’t be clearer. Not only is he desperate to get rid of me, but it’s also obvious he’d rather I hadn’t come at all. ‘Once you crack the childcare, you’ll know the difference.’ No doubt Poppy and Immie will keep him right on that. Because from now on I’ll be making damned sure I stay well away. From Rory, and his kids.
He lets out a long sigh as he rakes his fingers through his hair. ‘Thanks anyway. For hauling me out of the …’
However much I’m dying to know if he’s about to say ‘plop’ or ‘shit’, I don’t wait to hear. A second later, I’m hurrying down the yard, kicking myself for the way my stomach just descended like a highspeed lift when I saw him rub his thumb across his jaw and give that pained look.
I was fourteen when my insides last did that. What you can excuse as very bad judgement from a clueless teenager is totally unacceptable when you’re well past thirty. Especially when I’m in love with someone else. One thing is certain. It definitely won’t be happening again.
Chapter 9
Tuesday 5th December
In the kitchen at Daisy Hill Farm: Mental pictures and wind-down tipples
‘Are you there, Poppy? I’m just coming to say bye and ring for a taxi. I met Rafe and he told me to come on in.’
As I knock and crack Poppy’s kitchen door open, Jet, the black farm dog is there to welcome me with a thump of his tail on my leg. After the heat and mess of Rory’s cottage, Poppy’s place feels like a haven of calm. Apart from a few notes of violin music drifting up from the main house and the occasional slam of a car door, it’s hard to believe there’s a wedding party going on a few yards away. As I walk into the gentle light, Poppy looks up from where she’s curled on the sofa.
‘Rafe keeps popping in. He’s a lot more twitchy about all this than I am.’ She gives her tummy a rueful glance. As she checks her phone, she stifles a yawn. ‘Hey, you stayed late, Hols.’
‘I bumped into Gracie running off as I left, so I took her back to Home Brew Cottage on my way here.’ My name for the Rory residence, not Poppy’s. And we both know it’s a lot further up the yard. I’m hoping we can skip over the aching embarrassment of the last twenty minutes and that I’m still smarting at the speed of my ejection. Which is ridiculous, when staying was the last thing on my mind.
‘How are they doing in there?’ From Poppy’s wince she already knows.
Hopefully my huge eye roll will cover it, because my cheeks are already lighting up again. ‘He’s a long way from Uncle of the Year, but at least the smalls are asleep now. And, for the record, he couldn’t get rid of me fast enough. Just saying, so you know wherehestands on this.’ Seeing she’s looking so tired, I won’t push it further now.
Poppy grins and thankfully moves on. ‘So, well done, you survived your first wedding. It’s always a milestone.’ She’s looking at me searchingly. ‘And I’m sorry if I didn’t pick up quitehowwobbly you were earlier.’
‘It was a great day, I learned loads, my batteries lasted, nothing broke.’ Apparently dying power packs and failing equipment are a wedding photographer’s worst nightmares. And I knowexactlywhat she’s getting at with the last part, so I might as well explain. ‘The puking wasn’t about nerves, though. I just got a horrible shock when Zoe told me Aidan proposed last Christmas, and it suddenly hit me that it could have been me getting married today.’
Her face wrinkles into a worried frown. ‘Poor Hols.’
‘I’m okay again now. But there’s something else I’ve been puzzling over too.’ Probably all brought on because I don’t come face to face with bridal couples that often. ‘I’ve just spent a whole year pinning my hopes on patching things up with Luc. Then today, as I watched Zoe and Aidan signing the marriage register, I realised – I’ve never had a mental picture of me in a wedding dress, standing next to him.’
Poppy pushes her finger on her lips as she ponders. ‘And is that good or bad?’ It’s a measure of the kind of friend Poppy is, that she isn’t jumping in with her opinion too early.
‘It’s a surprise. That’s all.’ Not that I know what to make of it.
She laughs. ‘A lot of women have their weddings worked out on Pinterest, down to the last detail, before they’ve even got a boyfriend. Maybe you’re at the other extreme. Because you’re a photographer, you prefer real images to imagined ones.’
Now I’m the one who’s smiling at the skill of that reply. ‘That’s one way of looking at it.’ We’re neatly skipping over that I had a boyfriend and was careless enough to lose him at the vital moment. Seeing as I haven’t got a clue what the explanation really is, I try to move on. ‘Today was the most exhausting day ever. How the hell do you do it on a regular basis?’ At her busiest times, Poppy will have several weddings a week. For someone who’s wilting after one, that’s a mind blowing thought.
Poppy laughs. ‘Believe me, I was a wreck for my first few too. But now I get this huge buzz from helping couples to have a wonderful day. When I’m there, that is.’ She gives a wistful sigh.
I’m picking up her frustration. ‘Not quite the same when you’re viewing it from the sofa?’
She pulls a face. ‘Being stuck in here makes me feel so useless.’
