I can’t resist reminding him. ‘Gracie and Teddie are actually real, not proverbial.’ And right on cue, Teddie begins to whinge.
There are better ways to spend an hour than waggling a snowman over the back of the seat to keep a six-month-old’s howls at bay, while Green Day pulsates on your eardrums. But on balance it’s better than talking to Rory. And by the time we arrive at Port Giles it means I’ve spent an entire sixty minutes without worrying about dying batteries or backing up data. As the road veers closer to the coast, the hedges open up to give a view of the sea being lashed by the rain. And then we’re winding between the neat white and grey cottages of the village, coming into Port Giles, and making our way along the stretch of road that leads to where the Old Lifeboat Station stands stark against the washed-out sky.
But as the neatly raked gravel of the car park scrunches under the tyres and we pull in further along next to two picturesque upturned boats, there’s a hand-painted blue and white sign. And the wordsWedding Venuejerk me back into the room with a bang.
Chapter 14
Friday 8th December
At the Old Lifeboat Station, Port Giles: Rain stops play
‘You didn’t want to use the car park, then?’
Rory couldn’t have parked further from the building if he’d tried. I’m tempted to use the ‘don’t worry, we can walk to the kerb from here’ line. It’s only after we’ve suffered Teddie’s roaring as we changed a nappy – Rory’s job – found missing silver wellies – Gracie’s – and checked our cheeks – me, and they couldn’t be more floury if they were baps from the bakers, but on the upside at least they’re not pink – that we set off. As I duck into the horizontal rain, pushing Teddie’s buggy towards the venue, my smallest waterproof camera bag slung on my shoulder, I realise the beer-mobile is actually up on a hump between the car park and the beach.
Rory gives me a doubtful stare. ‘What’s the point hiding away in car parks? Every outing is a Roaring Waves publicity opportunity. After the trouble I went to with that paint job, I go for maximum exposure.’ He’s back to laughing again. ‘Whatever you think, I didn’tonlyagree to come so I could spend a day winding you up. I’m hoping I might get some orders out of today’s foray into northern territory.’
Two hours in, I’m resigned to the fact that these badly aimed side swipes are the best we’re going to get. ‘It’ll serve you right if your four by four gets swept out to sea.’ Just saying. It wouldn’t be the first time.
He gives me a dirty look for that. ‘The good news is, the rain’s stopping tomorrow and the wind’s set to drop. Sunday should be a balmy six degrees, with enough sun for photos on the terrace deck in front of the ceremony room. The tide will be on its way out when they get married at one, so you should be good for beach shots too. Low tide’s at four twenty, high tide again at eleven.’
‘Show off.’ I seem to be travelling with my own personal weather and tide geek. As for the lifeboat station, I wasn’t expecting it could have been converted to anything so stylish. Today the grey blue frames of the floor-to-ceiling windows along the single storey extension exactly match the diesel colour of the sea. The tall stone building, with its dark slate roof, stands proud against the racing clouds, with the old boat slipway sliding down to the beach.
Rory ignores that snipe. ‘My mate’s manager here, he’s expecting us to help ourselves. It’s actually a virtual offshoot of the local pub business in the village.’ He nods at the long row of windows as he pushes through the massive blue-painted entrance door. ‘The ceremonies are held in there, with a view straight out to sea. Then, so long as it’s fine, the guests spill out onto the terraces either side for drinks, depending which way the wind is blowing. If the sun’s out, there should be plenty of natural light for your photos.’
‘Great.’ I hide my surprise by fiddling with the pushchair cover and grinning at Teddie as I push him down the ramp. For a bonehead, Rory seems to be completely across this job. And more. If we weren’t dancing round each other locking horns, I’d almost be grateful to Immie for sending him.
He can’t hide his enthusiasm as we move through into the high space of the main building, where an elliptical staircase sweeps to the upper level that sits below the sloping roof. ‘It’s a brilliant place for wedding parties. And there are fabulous hanging deck balconies on the seaward side, too.’
Inside the light has the soft luminous quality you only get by the sea. It’s splashing off the white-painted walls in a way you’d never find in London. And although it looks sparse, I can see it will leap into life once the wedding gear and the guests arrive.
‘So who gets married here, then?’ I’ve got as far as finding out that Sunday’s couple are sailing school owners, Scott and Nancy, and they’re having thirty for their buffet wedding breakfast, and forty more to their evening party. I’m still waiting for Jules to forward the rest of their instructions.
Rory rubs his nose as he thinks. ‘Beachy people having smaller weddings who like things quirky and simple.’ He lets go of Gracie’s hand, squats on the edge of an immensely long cream leather sofa and pulls an iPad out of his jacket pocket.
I wrinkle my nose. As I run my hand along the soft leather of the sofa back, it feels jarringly familiar.
Rory narrows his eyes at me. ‘And?’
I wasn’t intending to mention it, but seeing as he’s asked. ‘These are the kind of couches Luc used to have in his loft.’ The open plan living area of his flat wasn’t so much huge as epic. Anything less than ten feet long would have been dwarfed.
Rory looks up from his screen. ‘If I didn’t already hate him, I do now.’ He gives a disparaging sniff, presumably to show he’s joking. ‘Here, I uploaded some of the pictures from the wedding I came to. I don’t know if they’ll help. I’m sure you’ll find great shots of your own, but in case you don’t have time …’
I get the subtext. In case I’m too nervous to think straight. Although I’m not offended. Seeing how far up this particular shit creek I am, I’m happy to grab all the help I can get, even if it comes from a Sanderson direction. So I perch as far away from him as I can, suspend hostilities for a moment and crane my neck to see as he flicks through. ‘That’s a good angle to make the most of the staircase. Nice backdrop of the sea with all the bridesmaids along the balcony rail. Groomsmen standing on the sofas. So where doyouusually live, then?’ That came out all on its own, when it wasn’t meant to. Which is exactly what used to worry me every day on the school bus. That I’d make an even bigger fool of myself and accidentally say yes to him.
He moves onto the next one without answering. ‘The way that cluster of umbrellas looks on the terrace, it’s almost a shame it’s not going to rain on Sunday.’
As I look at the fabulous shot of guests with their brollies taken from above, it suddenly strikes me. ‘That’s the difference between taking pictures of burgers and pictures of weddings. With the food, I set it all up in advance and I’m in total control. Right down to faking the steam coming off a stew with a carefully hidden tampon soaked in boiling water.’
‘Really?’ A look of delight spreads across Rory’s face as that sinks in. ‘Cheating like that? I’m surprised at you, Holly Berry.’
I don’t even bother to reply to that comment. ‘Whereas with weddings it’s all about reacting to the moment. You can plan a certain amount, but the rest is pure spontaneity. It’s an adrenalin junkie’s dream. But for someone like me who likes certainty, it’s the stuff of nightmares.’
He pulls down the corners of his mouth. ‘Sounds like you’ll be feeling the pain, big time.’
I sigh, because the more I think about it, the more hopeless it feels. ‘Even if the venue is the same, everything else changes every time. The dress, the weather, the guests, the styling.’ As I say it, the enormity of what I’m taking on is sinking in. ‘AndI’mthe one who’s got to capture and maximise all those possibilities. That’ssomuch responsibility. There’ssomuch potential to fail.’
He flicks through a few more photos then turns to me. ‘Although as Poppy said – or was it Jess – if they’re anything like these, you’ll be getting some great pictures.’
