‘It’s not like I see a lot of nefarious action on my Instagram,’ Hannah said, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes and repeat the phrase ‘dark side’ in a Darth Vader voice. ‘It’s mostly, “God, those blush peonies are just THE PRETTIEST” and “Venue goals” and “Where did you source that vintage glassware?”’
Hannah had a private, altogether neglected personal account on the app, but had invested considerable time and effort in building up a following of just over twelve thousand on the Eventurous Instagram profile. Gorgeous images of the occasions she planned had become a key calling card for the business, enabling her to reach and attract clients across the north of England – and generating so much work that, this summer, she’d jumped at the chance to hire Livi as a temporary assistant. Her sister had immediately begun cross-posting Hannah’s photo carousels and short videos to TikTok, where she’d already racked up 4,500 followers.
‘I’m serious, Hannah,’ Charlie said, ‘andyou’renot taking this seriously enough. He’s a former pop star who’s still good-looking and charismatic enough to have women swooning over him and men wanting to emulate him. People feel like they know him. They care about him – or at least, they think they do.’
‘So?’ Hannah said wearily. If Charlie was trying to make a point, she had no idea what it was.
‘So, some proportion of his followers are always going to leap to his defence if they think he’s been screwed over,’ Charlie said. ‘How many does he have again?’
‘Er – about fifty thousand, I think. Then some more on Instagram. Maybe another thirty k?’
‘So it’s fair to say he understands how these channels work,’ Charlie declared. ‘In which case, he’s either so gutted you’ve dumped him that he’s had temporary brainfade –or.?.?.’ She paused for dramatic effect, as if she was Hercule Poirot on the Orient Express, not herself in a small-town co-working cafe.
‘Or?’ Hannah asked.
‘Or, he understood full well that sharing that sappy song, with a caption that’s clearly about a specific woman who’s wronged him, would get some of his most ardent fans riled up. In my book, that’s putting you at risk – especially because a good handful of his followers, local people, will have seen you out together.’
Hannah sighed, ready to admit defeat.
‘OK,’ she said. ‘Maybe it’s all a bit passive-aggressive. He’s acting out – most likely because, from what I can gather,he’sused to being the one who decides when things end. But he hasn’t named me, I’m not identifiable .?.?. I don’t think he means me any harm.’
‘Hmm,’ was the only response Charlie would offer.
She went back to drawing combinations of carefully labelled foods, and a peaceable silence descended as Hannah returned to work on drafting a new price list for corporate events. She tended to work on a ‘what’s your budget?’ basis for weddings, outlining what she could achieve based on how much a couple was able to outlay, then working with them to design a day they could afford. On the other hand, clients who hired her to organise meetings, awards ceremonies and conferences tended to want an upfront idea of what different sums of money would buy them – in terms of time, facilities, catering, and so on.
‘What was the name of that conference centre we worked at in Sheffield last November?’ she asked Charlie. ‘I’m trying to think of another example venue for my mid-tier corporate events package.’
‘It was the Mercury Centre, wasn’t it?’ Charlie said. ‘The one just outside the city – three different-sized rooms, plus kitchen facilities.’
‘That’s the one,’ Hannah agreed.
‘Aren’t we there again on Friday, now you mention it?’ Charlie asked. ‘For that spoddy-sounding university thing. Something to do with doctors? Medicine?’
Hannah felt her neck get hot and her heart rate kick up as she said, ‘Oh god, yes, we are.’ She’d booked the job six months ago and still had no idea why. She could only assume she’d been having a ‘push through it’ sort of day, and must have decided walking across hot coals was preferable to running away from them – especially if she was going to get paid for it.
While working in the city of Sheffield was never a problem for her, any university-adjacent event made her jittery, and she’d avoided them up to now. She knew this reaction was thoroughly nonsensical, but Jude had spent three years studying there after leaving Cambridge, and – though he was half a world away now – the institution still had powerful associations for her.
‘Had you forgotten?’ Charlie asked, grinning – so pleased to have the superior handle on their shared events calendar that she’d failed to notice Hannah’s silent turmoil.
‘Kind of,’ Hannah confessed. ‘I did all the prep work ages ago and I’ve been in wedding mode for weeks now. Plus, I’m not handling the speaker side of things, just the hospitality and practical bits – equipment hire, programmes and stuff.’
‘Gotcha,’ Charlie said, then pointed towards the cafe’s counter. ‘One for the road? I reckon I’ve got another half hour in me before the well of inspiration runs dry.’
‘Go on then,’ Hannah said. ‘Can I have a decaf Americano, please?’
She refocused on her laptop as Charlie walked away. Deciding she’d made enough progress with the new price list, she clicked out of the Word document and opened her email inbox. There, she found three new enquiries – two for dates next year that she’d already booked out, and one for .?.?.three months from now?
Frowning, Hannah scanned her calendar, fully expecting 20 September to be blocked for the early-autumn nuptials of Holly and Rufus – only to discover that their big day was 27 September and she was, in fact, available.
She scanned the rest of the information in the email, which pulled its content directly from her website’s enquiry form. This asked a range of questions pertaining to the kind of day a couple was envisaging – from when and where they’d like it to take place, to how many guests they thought they’d invite and how much, roughly, they expected to spend. Hannah made clear on the form that opting for a smaller sum was no bar to working with her – it merely helped to ensure any follow-up conversation could be focused and useful. When she reached the budget section of this email, however, she gasped aloud.
‘What’s up?’ Charlie said, back with two steaming mugs in hand.
‘I’ve just had a wedding enquiry come through, dated .?.?.today,’ Hannah said, after checking. ‘It’s for the twentieth of September—’
‘Thisyear?’ Charlie interrupted, and at Hannah’s nod, she added: ‘Bloody hell, cutting it fine, aren’t they?’
‘Very,’ Hannah agreed. ‘But that’s not even the oddest bit. The email address is weird: [email protected], and they’ve not filled in any names. Even madder, the “realistic budget” they’ve set for the day is a hundred and fifty grand.’
