I finally get my gaping jaw into gear. ‘You wantmypictures?’ If I’m behind here, it’s because after everything he’s said, I can’t believe he’s even asking.
‘Obviously.’ Jules’s look of disgust couldn’t be huger. ‘No point keeping a dog and barking myself, is there? Some of them are …’ He hesitates as if he’s searching for the right phrase.
And that’s when I spot what’s wrong. A ping three seconds later tells me Poppy’s seen it too. Except it’s so obvious once I’ve noticed, there’s no need to read the text.
One of Jules’s startling blue eyes is brown!!!!
Where Jules should be rolling two deep-turquoise eyes, the colour of St Aidan Bay on a summer’s day, complete with shimmer, instead there’s only one. The other’s a murky greyish brown. More like a puddle after a rainstorm.
‘… not too bad at all.’ Jules frowns at us. ‘Is something wrong?’ As he blinks at us we get an uninterrupted view.
Poppy and I stare at each other as though we’re about to burst. I’m aching for her to jump in, when there’s the sound of the shop door. From the excited voices and clatter of feet, it sounds like the start of a stampede. From the speed of Poppy’s reaction, however big her bump, she isn’t suffering from baby brain.
Pushing past Jules, she dives in the desk drawer and pulls out a pair of sunnies. ‘Quick, pop these on before the boys arrive.’ She’s hissing at him. ‘You’ve got a wardrobe malfunction. One of your contacts is missing.’
Jules stutters. ‘Contacts?Whatcontacts?’ He gives a wince of disgust as the specs hit his hand. ‘Don’t you have Ray-bans? Or some with less bling?’
Poppy shakes her head at me. ‘Jeez, Jules, we’re a wedding shop not an opticians. They’re unclaimed lost property, not prescription lenses. Just put them on or these guys will eat you for breakfast.’
‘Who’s here?’ The flyaway cat’s eye frames he’s peering through give him a curiously androgynous air. But at least the mismatch is hidden.
This one I know. ‘The groomsmen’s party, from the upcoming Manor wedding.’ Probably the reason poor Jess is stuck up a mountain as we speak.
‘Shite, if they see me like this I’m done for.’ Jules groan is heartfelt.
Poppy nods. ‘On every count. So move it. Lie low in Sera’s studio.’
He pushes his sunnies up and wrinkles his nose. ‘My head’s hammering, I’ve got what I came for, so I might choose my moment and make a run for it.’
‘As you like.’ Poppy’s already got her welcoming face on and she’s crossed the room to usher in the group. ‘Hello Paul, Brett, Gus …’ She’s talking to them through the doorway. ‘Gary and Ken, you two already met Holly.’
As Gary laughs it’s obvious he’s Santa from last Saturday. ‘Without the pony and tights this time.’ Although he’s clean shaven, he’s still got a sizable paunch. What’s more, I can completely see how he nailed the local karaoke championships with hisKarma Chameleon.
‘Not to mention the beard, and the ho ho ho’s.’ As if they weren’t enough clues for me, Ken gives an elfie skip. Just to be sure.
‘Harry, Travis, Tom, Taylor and another Tom.’ As Poppy waves in the last man, there’s a blur of a stripy scarf as Jules bolts across from the desk.
As he pauses momentarily in mid-dash, the chandelier reflections flash off his glasses. ‘I’m going to say, “hi and bye”. I’ll catch up with you all very soon.’
As Jules whooshes away down the hall, Gary gives a chortle. ‘Now there’s a man with a twinkle in his shades. I’m liking Julian in blue mirror glasses.’
Ken’s purses his lips and he arches one neatly plucked brow. ‘My gaydar’s on overdrive. Do spill, has pin-up boy Jules finally come over to the dark side? I always knew he’d make a fabulous pixie.’
I surprise myself by leaping to defend Jules’s manhood. ‘Absolutely not. Those are borrowed sunnies. To ward off a headache. That’s absolutely all.’
‘Whatever.’ Ken gives a smirk. ‘We might change his mind at St Aidan’s wedding of the year.’
Poppy’s taken up her station at the end of the rail of suits. ‘So, who’s for trying on?’
Aware I’m supposed to be helping here and knowing I need to get my wedding muscles into shape, I decide to chip in. I look down the line-up of friendly faces. ‘So, which one’s the groom?’
I can see Poppy’s lips twitching as a sandy haired guy steps forward.
‘That’s me.’
I’m opening my mouth to congratulate him, when another voice chimes in.
‘And me.’ Blond number two steps next to him.
