public, after a summer of secret assignations on a secluded island at the Manor. Although, if they really are as close as Poppy says, it hits me that maybe there is a piece of valuable advice I can pass onto Jess, after all. If they’re trying to make up for lost time, it’s completely possible that in a backdrop as picturesque as Klosters, Bart might pop the question. In which case, it will pay Jess to be prepared.
I take a deep breath, and given what I’m about to throw into the mix, I drop my voice. ‘There is one very important tip – if Bart does happen to get out a ring and ask you to marry him, for goodness sake ram your finger into it and nod madly. Then decide how you really feel about it later.’ This one’s right from the heart. My downfall last Christmas is a well shared secret among our friends in St Aidan. I’m completely resigned to people knowing every last detail. ‘If you panic, like I did, and go skiing off into the distance, there’s a chance you’ll blow it forever.’ I’ve spent the last year pining for my lost life. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
For a second Jess looks as if she’s going to explode. ‘Me ski? I’m not a bloody snow bunny.’ As her voice rises to a shriek, everyone turns to listen. ‘Bart knows, I will not be going anywhere near any slopes, kindergarten or otherwise. And salopettes are completely out of the question.’ As her tone softens, a smile spreads across her face. ‘Although I’ll make an exception for the après ski, obviously.’ That thought puts the purr back into her voice. As tonight proves, no one loves a party like Jess does.
‘Good point, Hols.’ Poppy and I exchange glances over our three glasses. It’s significant that Jess has chosen to go ape at the mention of skiing, not the proposal.
‘Thank you, Holly. I had a feeling you’d set me straight. It’s exactly why I asked the question.’ Jess’s nostrils flare and her smile warms. ‘When our resident wedding photographer, Jules, gets here I’ll introduce you. He’ll be delighted to help you, in return for the absolute gems you’ve given me.’
I get in fast to jump on that idea. ‘Thanks, but there’s really no need.’ Super pro Jules is someone else I was hoping to avoid. I definitely don’t want him thinking I’m treading on his toes here.
‘I absolutely insist.’ Jess is beaming now. ‘And the forecast for tomorrow is abysmal. You’ve heard we’ve taken over the building next door and the first floor’s still empty. It will be perfect for you to use for indoor shots with your lovely couple.’
Over the years Poppy’s told me about Jess’s legendary rail-roading. I just wasn’t expecting to be flattened by the runaway train myself. ‘Nate and Becky want us to go to the beach, whatever the weather.’ Even though I say it in my firmest voice, I get the feeling no one’s listening.
‘So where were we?’ As far as Jess is concerned, I haven’t said a thing. ‘Ah yes, waiting for Jules to arrive. Meanwhile, Lily’s over there, she’ll be looking after the shop with you, Poppy and Sera while I’m away. Hasn’t she done wonders down here?’
‘It’s brilliant.’ As I check the room again, this time I’m taking in the decor and the beautifully arranged stock too. Even if the silver stars-all-over theme is way too Christmassy for me this time around, it’s obvious Lily’s a natural with the styling. The space is bursting with everything from vintage cake tables, to signs, to place settings to four-foot-high illuminated letters spelling LOVE.
That’s the funny thing. A snap shot of any corner of this showroom might have come from my food photographs at work, because the props we use are exactly like the pretty things here. The cleverest people at our company, like Poppy in her previous career, develop the tasty new food products. Then it’s my job to photograph them so they look so delicious that people rush to buy them.
The first time someone put a camera in my hand it was for a student project, photographing a bread range. We were all collapsing with giggles as the lecturer kept telling us to arrange our baps so there was a spiral in the picture. None of us could see any spirals at all, but apparently all my pictures had them anyway. Which was lucky in a way, because when it came to taste innovation, I turned out to be hopeless. My spinach and toffee pudding scored the lowest mark in the history of the course. But once I’d accidentally hit on those invisible spirals, everyone overlooked my strawberry and cauliflower tart disasters. So what began with those seeded buns ended up for me as a career taking food pictures.
Jess’s eyes are shining with pride as she beams at the fabulous place settings and the fairy lights overhead. ‘Every couple needs to make their wedding unique to them, and Lily brings those dreams to life. And talking of making dreams come true, I can’t wait for you to see the studio space next door.’ Note that in two minutes, Jess has changed an empty floor into a studio. But that’s Jess all over, from what Poppy’s told me. ‘Oh, and here’s Jules now. Ju-u-ules!’ As she yells and practically knocks us over with her wave, a guy who could have strolled straight off the pages of GQ magazine is heading our way. With his trademark pink, blue and green-striped scarf muffled around his stubble, he’s exactly as Poppy has described him.
Jess couldn’t be looking more pleased with herself. ‘Holly, meet Jules, our very own photographic wizard. You two are going to have so much to talk about. I’m hoping you’ll be able to give Holly some pointers, Jules.’
I’m wanting the ground to open up and swallow me. ‘Lovely to meet you, Jules, but forget the pointers. My wedding’s so low key it’s almost not happening.’ I force out a smile and, thankfully, I’m saved having to shake hands, because his are buried deep in his pockets.
As he turns to scrutinise me, his eyes are so blue and startling they could have been painted in on Photoshop. ‘I take it you’ve brought a camera with you. What do you use?’
From what Poppy says, Jules is as legendary for his ecstatic hugs as he is for his fantastic pictures and extravagant wardrobe. But his famously floppy fringe is suddenly stationary. And in place of the gush, I’m sensing an ice flow.
I push on, ignoring how awkward this is. ‘Most of my stuff is Nikon.’ You’ve no idea how many arms and legs it’s cost me to get the best there is. Although my memory cards are tiny rather then the true pro ones. And how many clothes I haven’t bought over the years, to save up so I can afford it. Some of the lenses alone cost a month’s salary. Which is why I’m wearing a New Look top from four seasons ago rather than designer cashmere, and a four figure price tag jacket like Jules.
Jules’s nose pinches and he flips back his hair with what almost could be a head toss. ‘You do realise it’s not the camera that makes good pictures. It’s actually down to the person behind the lens.’ He says it like it’s going to come as news.
I nod. ‘Right.’
He’s straight back at me. ‘A successful wedding photographer needs to be a great communicator.’ The slight curl of his lip has nothing to do with a smile. ‘Ordering a hundred guests around takes skill. Not to mention bucket loads of charisma.’
I’m letting this wash over me, exchanging ‘what the hell’ glances with Poppy, because it’s got so little to do with a few friends having an informal beach party.
Jess is swishing the ice round in her glass, looking slightly bemused. ‘So am I sensing there’s a problem, Jules?’
Jules draws himself up looks at a spot four feet to my left. ‘From where I’m standing, I’m just not feeling it with Holly. Not one iota.’
I force my cheeks into a smile. ‘Well, thanks for sharing, that’s very …’ I can’t bring myself to say helpful, ‘… illuminating. Always fab to have insight
