Immie’s holding her hands in the air. ‘Stop guys! I’m up to my ears with cottage changeovers, Poppy’s very pregnant and needs to rest. It’s a few hours tops.’ Her voice rises from reasonable to a roar. ‘Whatever’s going on with you two, man up and get over it!’
I have to jump on this. ‘There’s absolutelynothinggoing on.’ I turn to Rory, who’s staring somewhere out in the mews. ‘Back me up on this, Rory.’
He turns and blinks as he hears his name. ‘What’s that? I’ve got no idea what the hell … but I’m damned if …’
Immie’s roaring again. ‘Language, Rory.’ Then she drops her voice to a hiss. ‘By the sound of it, we’re in a shit hole here. Poppy’s helping both of you out massively with your accommodation, so the least you can do is put your differences to one side for half a day and go with this. Okay?’ Faced with a scowl that fierce, there’s nothing else for it.
I can hardly believe what I’m agreeing to with my squeak. ‘Okay. I’ll go.’
Rory snorts like a bull. ‘Fine.’ If there’s one consolation, it’s that he’s as unwilling as I am.
Poppy’s eyes are wide and a lot less relaxed than her voice. ‘Great, so that’s the first hurdle sorted.’
I’m back to opening and closing my mouth, because on reflection, I’m not sure it is at all. Right now I’ve been lined up for a day out with the last person in the world I want to spend time with, taking pictures of a wedding venue as a favour. A favour for a guy who, to be honest, has been pretty hostile to me up till now. What’s more, I’m moving further and further away from my sausage casserole comfort zone with every second.
Immie’s moved on. ‘But what’s wrong with Jules?’
I’m momentarily putting my immediate problems aside and thinking back to his hammering head. ‘Is this because of his nervous rash?’
Immie’s straight in there. ‘Rash?’
‘He had a couple of pimples on his forehead yesterday.’
Immie’s voice soars. ‘Refusing to leave the house just because he’s got a spot? Jeez, I know Jules is faddy and vain in spades, but this takes the biscuit. What’s wrong with a blob of concealer? That wimp needs to grow some balls, slap on theHide the Blemish, and show his zit to the world, like the rest of us mere mortals do every day.’ Sounds like the full brunt of Immie’s baby angst has moved on from us to Jules.
From the way Poppy’s face crumples, she could be sucking on a sour lemon. ‘Jess said to break it to you bit by bit, Hols. But maybe it’s best to tell you the truth, all at once.’
I’m frowning. ‘You mean there’s worse to come?’ From where I’m standing a day out with Rory is as bad as it gets. Worse isn’t possible.
Poppy’s voice is soft. ‘Jules has got more spots since yesterday. A lot more. They think he’s probably got chickenpox. And that can be really serious in adults.’
Immie’s chortling. ‘So you won’t be in any danger from that, Rory. That’s one advantage to being an eternal child.’
Rory says nothing, but the way he’s waving his middle finger at her confirms she’s right anyway.
Gracie’s twiddling with her fingers so quietly we’d almost forgotten she was there. ‘Rory showed me and Teddie the loose sign.’ As she sticks up her middle finger and waves it around everyone except Rory exchanges horrified glances.
Immie grabs her hand and closes her fingers around Gracie’s. ‘Snowmen don’t do the hang loose sign, because their fingers are too stumpy. So you and Teddie need to forget the hand signals, right now, okay?’ She rolls her eyes at me, but Poppy’s words are slowly sinking in. Like dumplings into stew. Checking out camera angles in Port Giles sounds like the start, not the end of this nightmare.
‘So what’s happening to all of Jules’s wedding bookings?’
Poppy’s eyes are very bright. ‘Jess thought … and Jules thought … as your pictures from Zoe’s wedding were so fab … thatyoumight like to … help out …’
Despite my iron muscle control my stomach lurches, and this time it’s nothing to do with Mr Sanderson. ‘Me step in?’ It’s almost a yell. Although why I’m clutching my waist when my gut’s already left the building, I have no idea. ‘Absolutely not. That’s NO with the caps lock on.’ Seeing Poppy isn’t reacting, I might need to suggest my own solution. ‘Isn’t there someone local to do it? Doesn’t he have any friends in the business?’
She sighs. ‘His two besties are grabbing some winter sun in Fuerteventura, so they can’t help. It’s lucky this happened in the off season.’ Poppy’s got her pleading look on. ‘After Port Giles, all the weddings are with us. If you could take over … just until he’s back on his feet again … we all know you’ll nail it …’
I might as well throw it in. ‘ActuallyJules agrees with me on this. Heactuallytold me weddings weren’t my bag.’
Poppy’s eyebrows lift. ‘According to Jess, he’s had a radical rethink on that. Nothing like chickenpox to change a man’s mind. You’re his best hope here, because you’ve got the technical skill and the flare to come through with the kind of shots he likes to do. Don’t worry, we’ll pull together for the rest.’
Worry doesn’t begin to cover what I’m feeling here. My throat is dry, but I have to explain. ‘Becky and Nate are understanding friends, who know what they’re getting, and would excuse me for less than perfect pictures.’ They’re completely ready to take a chance I might screw up on their big day, in other words. Which let’s face, it is quite possible given how complex weddings are these days. ‘But Jules’s couples will be clients demanding a top notch job. And deserving it too. There’s a world of difference.’
Poppy’s got her pleading face on. ‘You have no idea how much work goes into putting a wedding together. And the photographs are what the couple have to remember the day forever.’
‘That’s my point entirely.’ At least we’re agreeing on something here. The pressure to deliver perfection is immense.
‘But that’s also why all those weddings happening without a photographer would be unthinkable. Please, Hols. I know it’s hard, but you’vegotto help us out here.’
