Page 68 of Italy and Forever

‘I am looking forward to today’s outing though,’ the bride said brightly. ‘It will be a shame I can’t drink the new wine, but I’m looking forward to visiting Andreas’s uncle’s farm. I might speak to Rhys about taking some posed photos, because it’s supposed to be a beautiful spot.’

Ginny waited for a little dig about Rhys but Sophie didn’t so much as wink. She hauled herself to her feet, supporting her back with one hand.

‘You know, if you ever want to talk about this… casual thing, you can. If not with me, then with Kira. She knows more about that.’

Part of Ginny was tempted to let it all out. When Sophie squeezed her hand, she nearly opened her mouth to do just that, heedless of the mess that would leave behind.

But Sophie spoke first. ‘You can have your privacy if you want, though. It takes a bit of getting used to, imagining you and Laurie.’

Ginny’s throat closed and she spluttered, unable to temper her reaction. Sophie thought what?

‘I mean, he’s handsome. Everyone can see that. And there sure aren’t many single people at this wedding.’

‘Are you suggesting that’s a reason?’

‘No,’ Sophie said with a grimace. ‘I just thought perhaps your dating ban had helped you… broaden your outlook.’

Oh, God, Sophie was serious. She thought Ginny was sleeping with Laurie. What was worse, she had to⁠—

Actually, perhaps it was a better idea not to correct her. It would certainly be easier to convince Sophie her feelings weren’t involved.

‘I have broadened my outlook,’ she said evenly. ‘Autumn is the season of change, right? But I mean it, this thing is just casual. When we go back to England—’ She mimed slitting her throat, which felt way too dramatic the instant she did it, but Sophie knew her well enough not to be surprised.

‘Forgive me for being disappointed I can’t matchmake you, even just a little.’

‘Oh, please, no!’ Ginny called to her friend’s retreating back. Sophie’s only response was a vague flap of her hand that didn’t reassure Ginny in the slightest.

Shit, that had not gone well.

Even when Rhys had actually been an amateur photographer, he’d never felt so uncertain with a camera in his hands. He told himself to keep snapping shots. One of the well-kept secrets of his profession was that simply taking a thousand or more photos was a good portion of the work of taking one standout shot.

Of course, there was more to it than that. He fiddled with the settings every ten minutes or so to adjust for the quality of the light as the clouds followed their lazy path across the autumn sky. Monitoring the position of the sun was second nature. He’d also noted the location of the fence stakes keeping the curious goats from the wedding party and was carefully avoiding the unsightly stack of pallets next to the big farmhouse.

There wasn’t a lot to spoil the background here on this hillside farm. The gold and orange leaves created a perfect splash of interest against the sky. Even lightly blurred in the background, the pine and larch forest in the distance would create a stunning backdrop of colour, more jagged peaks looming above.

But the wedding guests in their colourful smart casual felt like an unsupportive audience at an oddball talent show. He tried to tell himself they weren’t looking at him, but he still felt exposed behind the Sony that he hadn’t properly got to know yet. He should have invested in a telephoto lens. Papping the wedding would have been so much easier than coming close enough to frame and snap portraits – and share in the awkward moments when the parents of the bridal couple met and made stilted conversation about how quickly the wedding had come together.

Sophie’s father was a stiff man with thinning hair and a tweed jacket that was easy to remember. Her mother was wearing a pair of large, bronze hoop earrings. They huddled together as though it were them against the world, and Rhys could guess why they had decided not to stay the full week.

It made him imagine introducing someone to his mam now, after all these years of being comfortably alone. She would love Ginny a little too much, except that would never happen. Her parents – her father and stepmother – would probably be worried if they ever met him.

He remembered Ginny offering – what felt like months ago, but it had been only four days – to assist him with identifying guests and he’d shut her down, troubled by the idea of spending too much time with her. It felt ridiculous. Now he knew exactly what to do with her – when they were alone, anyway, which was another complication.

Ginny was never alone.

As he captured Indiscriminate Male Wedding Guest talking to Female Wedding Guest with Purple Hat, Ginny was mingling as though she’d been born for it. She was wearing a warm maroon dress that made her skin glow. It had a wrap-around thing happening on her chest, folds of material that caught the light – and snagged his attention – continually.

He was not having a good day when he was taking amateurish portraits of strangers and he couldn’t keep his eyes off Ginny’s chest. He gave in and snapped a shot. He’d fiddle with the highlights and contrast on the computer later, but he had no idea how he’d frame it, or what her face had been doing while he’d been staring at her body.

‘She looks lovely, doesn’t she?’

Rhys jumped. ‘Who?’ he asked Andreas, a knee-jerk response he hadn’t thought through.

‘Oh, that’s Ginny. You didn’t recognise her?’

Shaking his head was easier than lying outright.

Andreas tilted his head to speak conspiratorially. ‘I didn’t believe it, but Sophie tells me Ginny and Laurie have been sleeping together! Look at them. I think I do see something there, as strange as that seems. You can’t argue with taste, I suppose.’