‘Right, here goes …’ I screw up my courage, open the first file and begin to scroll through. ‘Sheesh, the bridesmaids on the beach are safe. And some of the photos are okay too.’ In fact they’re so much better than I could have hoped for. My heart does a kick as I take in how alive and vibrant they are. Somehow they completely capture the exuberance and poignancy of the morning. I must have got hooked on looking through them, because I’m still on the same file when a flowery mug of frothing hot chocolate arrives at my elbow.
‘Squirty cream, baby marshmallows, grated chocolate?’ Rory couldn’t be more attentive if he were working at the Surf Shack.
‘Please. Five marshmallows not four, though, remember.’ I smile, but carry on without looking up. Just this once I’ll trust him to add the embellishments. Then as I open the next file I let out a scream. ‘Oh my, the ceremony’s here.’ I’m so relieved I want to get up, fling my arms around Rory and squeeze him until he shrieks as loudly as me. But luckily for me, I hang on tightly to my stool instead and slurp hot chocolate all over the tabletop, due to me jumping so violently.
He’s moving around behind me, reaching over to mop up with kitchen roll. ‘Careful, HB. Not that I’m being a lightweight here. But I’m not up to dealing with a cocoa flood on your keyboard at midnight.’
I’m with him on that, so I scrape off a few fingerfuls of cream and take a long drink of thick, delicious chocolate. By the time I open my eyes, after licking my lips, there’s already a tray there to put it on.
I put down my mug. ‘Thanks for the tray.’
‘No worries, best to be safe, all part of the service.’
I brace myself to go in again. ‘Yay! The groups seem to be here too.’ I do a mini air punch. ‘Speeches … cake cutting … the beach … guests relaxing …’ As I work through, I’m almost in a trance. If the kitchen cupboard doors are banging behind me and the plates are rattling on the shelves, it’s all happening a long way away from me. When I murmur, it’s as if I’m talking to myself. ‘These food pictures are making me feel hungry all over again.’ I flinch as I come to a platter of vol au vents. But I’m also beginning to puzzle, because I can’t work out what isn’t here.
‘You’re frowning. What’s wrong, Berry?’ For some weird reason, Rory’s got a tea towel in his hand.
I hesitate. ‘I can’t see what’s missing.’
He’s right over my shoulder, leaning past me, finger on my track pad. ‘Shall I look?’ Slightly late with the question there, because he already is.
And what the hell happened to respecting my personal space or asking me to move? He’s so close I can tell whatever body spray it is he’s wearing has lasted all day, and it’s still just as … Heady is not a word I’d ever use in the same sentence as Rory, so definitely not that. Let’s just say, if Poppy or Jess were asking for ideas for Rafe or Bart’s Christmas present, this particular scent would get five stars on Phwoar Advisor.
I sigh, then reach for my mug as he scrolls down the screen. I’m scraping the last of the froth onto my spoon when I realise he’s stopped at the picture of two little boys on the floor, playing with the same skittles he and Gracie had ignored the other day. I’m about to mention that, but he cuts in first.
‘So were you and Runaway Luc planning to have kids, then?’
I spend a minute picking my jaw up off the floor at the question, then dive in to put him right. ‘I was the one who ran. So technically, it’s Runaway Holly, not the other way around, okay?’
His sniff is dismissive. ‘Seeing as you’re here and he’s in the States, I’d disagree on that one.’ He gives me one of his significant, know-it-all looks. ‘So did you? Think about kids, I mean?’ He’s not backing down on the interrogation, but at least he starts scrolling again.
‘It wasn’t that kind of relationship. We were more in the moment, both busy with our work.’ Even if it’s true, I suspect that’s not going to be enough. Luc wasn’t that preoccupied with the future, beyond his next meeting and his projected career trajectory. Apart from his personal pension scheme, of course, which did seem to occupy an extra large part of his leisure time thinking. But that caution and care was part of who he was, and the reason he was so good at his job. It never particularly bothered me that we didn’t have long term plans. The loft apartment was like a cloud I’d hitched a very comfortable ride on. I hadn’t got as far as looking beyond that.
From the way his nose wrinkles, Rory’s not buying into this. ‘Surely Luc didn’t just produce a ring, like pulling a rabbit out of a hat? Didn’t you ever talk about your hopes and dreams when you were chilling on those ten foot sofas of his?’ If there’s the slightest bitter twang in his voice there, I’m probably imagining it.
Actually the magician analogy is close to what it felt like, watching Luc as he whipped out his surprise ring. On the day it happened I was frozen with that same wide-eyed, startled astonishment and disbelief magicians get in response to their tricks. But I’m not going to admit that now. ‘Mostly when he was home we went out. We didn’t spend that much time at the flat.’ However luxurious Luc’s sofas looked, they weren’t anything like as comfy to sit on as the ones at the Lifeboat Station. As for Luc, he was usually racing around the flat, on his phone, working out his appointment itinerary. He rarely sat down at all, unless he was out with clients. That was just part of how conscientious he was. He used to explain he had until he was forty to get where he was going and, understandably, he had to give it everything.
Looking back, however much I personally enjoyed slurping round in my pj’s, Luc didn’t join in, because he always had too much work on. Watching my boxed sets was alone-time for me. Done on last season’s couch next to an abandoned cross trainer, in the surprisingly small and cosy fourth bedroom. To be honest, I’m not that sure Luc even knew the room existed. He certainly never visited when I was in there. But that wasn’t a bad thing. At least it meant I could watch what I wanted.
Rory pulls down the corners of his mouth. ‘So you weren’t that close, then?’ Why the hell is he still pushing this? As he rubs his thumb across his jaw he gives a sigh. ‘Do you remember that party where you drank too much punch and chucked up?’
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ I can’t help my wail, but I surprise myself by moving on so fast to close it down. It might be great to look back and talk about Freya, but Rory dragging up my most embarrassing moments is the flipside of our reminiscing. ‘I didn’t know it was cider. Lucky for me I have a memory blank for the whole evening. Why?’
He gives a wry smile. ‘Maybe you’re wilder than you think. Back then I was damned impressed by a girl who pebbledashed an entire row of prize roses. You were so warm and chatty and spontaneous, it’s impossible to understand how you’d end up with someone cold and clinical. Harder still to see why you’re desperate to get back with someone who sounds like they don’t understand you at all.’
My voice is shrill because I’m so indignant. I’d rather he’d made me relive the puking and the shame than come out with that damning condemnation. ‘Crap, Rory, relationships come in all shapes and sizes. And they certainly aren’t meant for other people to stick their noses in.’ One way to shut him up is to turn this back onto him. ‘So how about you? How are your plans for kids shaping up? Have you got it all worked out?’ I already know the answer. Anyone as child-unfriendly as he is couldn’t possibly be contemplating them. When you’re as self-absorbed as Rory is, there’s definitely no room for other people in your life. If what he says is true, he hasn’t even got the space for a girlfriend, let alone kids. Which is probably a good thing, seeing he’s hanging round the attic kitchen this late.
His face twists. ‘Iwasplanning lots of things. First the Audi TT. Making the boardroom as a corporate lawyer. The four storey Georgian house complete with a huge family, all haring up and down the stairs yelling at each other. A big basement kitchen, tiles from Fired Earth, massive Sunday barbies in the garden cooked on volcanic rock, rugby kits strewn across the landing …’ His bottom lip pulls into the familiar Gracie pout. ‘Sometimes life doesn’t play out quite as you expect.’
I’m blinking at the detail. ‘In London on-trend people mostly get their tiles from Bert and May.’ And I only know this because after their jobs, Luc’s friends’ main obsession was their homes. ‘If you’re wanting flashy ceramics, they’re definitely worth a look.’
Rory’s shaking his head. ‘My whole point is, I’mnotneeding tiles, Berry. They belong to the lives my mates are living, not me. I got as far as the car.’ He frowned. ‘Then other stuff got in the way.’
‘Stuff, what stuff?’ It’s a squeal of frustration. Because, if I’m honest, he lost me at ‘volcano’.
His sigh is so long and deep, I feel it on my cheek. ‘Nothing I’m going to go into after a full day at a wedding where the dog mashed the memory card, that’s for sure.’ He’s leaning forward. ‘Actually, it’s the bride walking down the aisle shots.’
Here we go again. ‘Sorry?’ Still no idea what the hell he’s talking about.
