He shoots out his hand and grabs the woman by the wrist. ‘Hello there, we’re Rory and Holly, the photographers standing in for Jules. And it’sgreatto meet you.’ His voice takes on this irresistible low resonance. In the split second it takes for him to grasp her hand and grin, it’s obvious he’s already got her.
She softens, then gives a giggle. ‘What a total hero you are, Rory. We’resograteful to you for coming to our rescue.’ Despite being almost old enough to be his mother, from the way she’s leaning in, she’s definitely flirting. As for her totally overlooking that I’m here, given I’ve signed the ‘no publicity’ clause, I can hardly complain. In fact, it couldn’t be better.
He’s wiggling his eyebrows at her. ‘We’re sponsored by Roaring Waves Brewery, by the way. The car’s right outside and there’s a complementary crate of Bad Ass Santa coming your way later.’
Even if I’m rooted in the doorway, my own eyebrows are mobile enough to go skywards in horror.
He’s calling to me, walking backwards into the venue. ‘Come on, Holly, time to find the bride.’
Somehow, as I shuffle after him, I force out an incredulous croak. ‘Sponsorship?’
His shrug is inscrutable. ‘Obviously I’m not rude enough to crash their big day without compensation. Once they see the paint job, most grooms want pictures with it anyway. It’s win-win for everyone.’
If he hadn’t made such an effort to look smart, I’d tackle him on that. As it is, under his windcheater, his white shirt is expensive and ironed. Any other chin and I’d admit it looked fabulous against the stubble. So fabulous there are flutters where there shouldn’t be any. It’s obviously because it’s a year since I had sex and crisp white shirts remind me so much of Luc. Let’s face it, I’m a beggar not a chooser here. So to calm myself down, I focus on the decorations that have appeared since Friday.
‘Wow, this place is looking fab.’ As we hurry across the wide-open space I’m dazzled by the stunning driftwood Christmas trees and enough white fairy lights to illuminate most of Lapland.
As we arrive at the dressing room, Rory taps on the door, waits for the word from inside, then eases it open. ‘Rory and Holly, photographers coming to the rescue.’ If he’s rushing around, acting like he’s the responsible adult here, for once I’m happy to let that go.
The room we’re walking into is a lot smaller and more simple than Poppy’s. Three girls in pale-grey fleecy robes are clustered by a long mirror next to a kettle. The one with theBrideembroidered on her chest steps forward.
‘Hey, I’m Nancy…’
I dive into my camera bag. ‘Great, bride in hair rollers, with a cup of tea. That’s a brilliant first picture. And it’s lovely to meet you too, Nancy.’ There’s no time to lose. The sooner I start, the more chance there is of me salvaging anything for any of us.
It seems a bit abrupt, not to say bizarre, air-kissing literally three seconds before I start taking pictures of the most important day in Nancy’s life.
‘Brilliant. And another of the champagne bucket, then the make-up bags.’ I’m mentally ticking the shots off the prompt list Jules emailed me yesterday, along with the list of groups he’d agreed with the bride and groom. We’ve got those on paper, and Rory, being a guy who has an iPad permanently in his jacket pocket, put them on there too.
Rory gives me a nudge. ‘So, if you’re all settled in, Hols, I’ll just grab a camera and head off to meet the guys at the pub.’ He glances into my open bag for a second, then grabs one of my spares and slings the strap over his shoulder. ‘Catch you later then.’
What can I say? Rory’s never one to stay away when there’s beer to be sampled. And that camera of his must be as non-existent as I thought all along. I’m left shaking my head, and looking around the room, because compared to Zoe’s day, it feels like there’s something missing. Then it suddenly strikes me. ‘So where’s your hair and make-over team?’
Nancy laughs. ‘Emily’s fabulous with plaiting and we’re doing our own make-up.’ She nods at the bridesmaid without rollers. ‘This is more of a low-input kind of wedding than a biggie. We want everything to be understated and natural.’
I nod. ‘I noticed the driftwood decorations. They look amazing.’
Nancy smiles and wanders across the room. ‘The bridesmaids are in short scarlet dresses, for a splash of winter colour.’ She nods at them hanging on the wall. And this is my wedding dress. Bought on eBay.’ She slides off the cover and the mass of tulle and muslin layers she shakes out seem lighter than air.’
I can’t help gasping. ‘Wow, so simple, yet so beautiful. It’s what I’d imagine a mermaid might wear.’
Her eyes light up. ‘That’sexactlywhat I thought. I love that it’s almost ragged, as if the wind’s torn it. It seems so right when we’re getting married by the beach.’
‘I’ll take some pictures.’ Although I’m not sure I’ll be able to do it justice. ‘Is it okay if I borrow your hair strand?’ Pearls trailing across make the fabric seem softer than ever. If the day carries on like this, I might just pull it off.
‘I’ve got a chunky grey hand-knitted wrap for when we’re outside.’ She gives a rueful grin. ‘The dress really goes with the lovely venue. I can’t believe we only stumbled on this place by accident. We were struggling, because there weren’t many places that accepted dogs.’
‘There’s a dog?’ I’m almost swallowing my tongue.
She nods. ‘Two, actually. They’re like our babies. We couldn’t get married without them.’
‘B-b-but …’ My mind’s racing. Humans that do as they’re told are bad enough. I’m totally unprepared for the randomness of dogs. I’m trying hard to sound less thrown than I am, so I yank my voice down back to where it should be. ‘There weren’t any dogs on the group lists … were there?’
Nancy looks mildly ashamed. ‘Hetty and Hannah? I know we might be overdoing it. They’re in pretty much every picture.’
I hesitate for a minute, to get this right, because I’ve seen the names. ‘I’msosorry. I thought Hetty and Hannah were bridesmaids.’
Nancy giggles. ‘They’d like to think that. And they have got red satin collars to match the bridesmaids and the flowers.’
