A Christmas Wedding(27)

‘You don’t have to explain yourself to me,’ she says laughingly as I dither about on her doorstep. ‘Come in. Can I get you a glass of wine?’

‘Better not. I think I need to keep my head tonight.’

She looks amused.

The photographs of Bridget and Charlie’s wedding are out of this world. Their picnic reception took place on a pebble-and-shingle beach called Lansallos. The cove is horseshoe shaped, flanked by stunning greeny-grey rocky cliffs, and the aquamarine water makes the most stunning backdrop to the photos.

‘You’ve still got it,’ Rachel says with admiration, staring at the picture of Charlie with shining eyes as he waits for Bridget at the altar. She clicks on her mouse and moves her corresponding shot of Bridget so they’re side by side. My friend’s eyes sparkle with love and emotion.

‘These are so beautiful,’ I murmur.

‘I don’t need to ask you if you enjoyed yourself, because it’s obvious that you did,’ Rachel says.

‘I loved it.’ I’m blown away looking at the work we produced.

‘Honestly, I wish you lived here,’ Rachel says wistfully. ‘I could put so much work your way. The number of weddings I’m having to turn down because I’m too busy is unbelievable.’

‘I’m so happy it’s all going so well for you,’ I say sincerely.

‘Thank you,’ she replies with a smile. ‘Now, there’s one wedding in December that I would love to have your help with.’ The look on her face has me intrigued.

‘What’s that?’ I ask.

‘I’m sworn to secrecy.’ She grins and my curiosity is properly piqued. ‘But I need two assistants.’

‘A celebrity wedding?’ I ask with excitement.

She doesn’t deny it. ‘I’d give anything to tell you whose.’

‘Go on!’ I urge. ‘I won’t spill!’

‘You used to work at Hebe,’ she says with a laugh.

‘I’m out of that world now,’ I reply. ‘Celebrity shelebrity.’ I wave my hand dismissively.

‘You. Would. Die.’

I crack up laughing. ‘You’re terrible!’ I gasp. ‘I can’t believe you’re stirring me up like this!’

‘I’m still so shocked I’ve got the job.’

‘So who have you got assisting?’ I ask with a grin.

‘Just Misha so far.’ That’s her regular assistant. ‘I haven’t lined anyone else up yet.’

We stare at each other.

‘It’s really well paid,’ she adds beguilingly. ‘It would easily cover your airfare back here…’

‘Are you serious?’ My insides begin to fizz with excitement, but then reality bites and the disappointment is crushing. ‘I’ve already used up all my holidays for this year.’ I sound thoroughly fed up.

‘I thought you hated your new job…’ She raises an eyebrow, sassily, and I laugh. Who knew Rachel could be so persuasive? Surely she’s not really suggesting I jack in my job and come back to the UK?

‘You wouldn’t regret it,’ she says, still dangling her carrot in front of my nose. Dangle, dangle, dangle. ‘The cred you’d get from this one job would set you up for life as a wedding photographer.’

Suddenly I’m no longer laughing. She is serious. Could this be my future? Could I be a wedding photographer? My own boss? Full time?

‘I’ll give you a couple of months before I ask anyone else,’ she says knowingly as the cogs in my head turn. ‘Think about it.’

Oh, I will.

‘Rachel has asked me to do a job with her this Christmas,’ I find myself telling Alex as soon as I’m in his car.

‘Really?’ he replies with interest. ‘Back over here or in Oz?’

‘Here. All expenses paid. I’m seriously considering it. It’s a celebrity wedding,’ I whisper. ‘But I don’t know whose.’

He chuckles. ‘Why are you whispering, then?’

I giggle, too. ‘I don’t know.’ I glance out of the window and then back at him. ‘Am I really going to stay at yours?’ I’ve sobered up since leaving the pub and this fact is only just now sinking in. ‘I don’t have any of my things with me.’

‘I’m sure I can find you a spare toothbrush and lend you a T-shirt.’

‘Yeah, and I can set off back to Polly’s early.’

‘There’s no rush, is there? I thought she was working.’

‘True. Why, are you planning on cooking me a nice fry-up?’

‘I’ll cook you a fry-up if you like,’ he replies with a smile.

I feel a tiny bubble of joy burst inside my stomach, but it’s deftly followed by a hefty kick.

How would Lachie feel if he could see me now, in Alex’s car, laughing away, without a care in the world?

He’d be shocked. Gutted. Disappointed.

The guilt is immense.

And then I wonder if Lachie also feels guilty spending time with Fliss. Is he seeing more of her since we broke up?

Probably.

I try to put him out of my mind.

I get out my phone and type a quick message to Polly, telling her that I’m staying ‘up here’. I don’t reveal who I’m with. She’ll only flip out if I tell her I’m with Alex, not Rachel, but she’s not my mother.