by Paige Toon
‘You’re so creative.’ I elbow him in his ribs. ‘I bet they’re brilliant.’ He leans back in his seat and shrugs casually, playing it down. ‘What sort of thing do you like photographing?’ I ask.
‘Mainly landscapes. I don’t really do people.’
‘Not likely to ever become a wedding photographer, then,’ I joke.
‘I think we can safely say you’ve got that covered.’
‘Mmm.’ I lean back in my seat, suddenly feeling preoccupied. ‘I’m a bit nervous about tomorrow,’ I admit.
‘You’re not, are you?’ He looks taken aback. ‘Why? Because they’re friends?’
‘Yeah. It feels like more pressure.’
‘Don’t stress. You’ll be fine. More than fine. Amazing.’
‘Aw.’ I blush and glance at him, meeting his beautiful blues straight on. Oh, why do I have to fancy him still?
It hurts.
He looks away and clears his throat. We fall into a slightly awkward silence. I’m the one who breaks it.
‘How’s it all going with Zara after, you know...’ The pregnancy scare.
‘Okay. She’s been really busy at work lately.’
‘Is she very career-driven?’
‘Extremely,’ he replies.
I hesitate, but curiosity gets the better of me. ‘Whatever happened with that colleague of hers?’ I’m talking about the man she was allegedly interested in when she and Alex were on a break.
‘She says nothing ever did.’
‘Did you ever tell—?’ I clamp my mouth shut. I can’t believe I was just about to ask him if he told her about me.
‘Right!’ Russ, luckily, distracts everyone with a clap of his hands. ‘Let’s get this show on the road.’
It’s still light when Maria drives us – a little erratically, it has to be said – into San Sebastian. She takes us on a brief tour of the city before parking the van, and then we wander en masse through the pretty streets, which are an interesting mix of old Spanish and innovative new-build architecture. Eventually we arrive at the large, sweeping Bay of La Concha, which is surrounded by three colossal mountains. Santa Clara islet protrudes straight out of the middle of the bay in front of us, and a huge statue of Jesus Christ stares down at us from the top of Mount Ulia to our right. Maria says he’s supposed to protect the city. She’s quite religious, unlike me.
Bridget knows the names of all the mountains – I sometimes forget that she is a travel writer, and now her knowledge impresses me. She says that La Concha beach is often featured in travel magazines as being one of the best urban beaches in the world.
Because of the sangria we had at the villa, we hit the ground running, starting with a tapas bar crawl. By the time we reach the club, it can safely be said that I am drunk. Maria appears to be having the time of her life, despite the fact that she’s driving, and even Rachel, who never seems to drink much, is well on her way to being smashed.
The club is hot and the music is loud. Lachie and Bridget are at the bar, lining up shots, which we definitely do not need, and I’m leaning against a column and taking a breather because my feet are killing me. I don’t know where Alex is.
Lachie brings me a shot, but I shake my head.
‘Come on!’ Bridget shouts at me, knocking hers back. Lachie does the same with his, and then gives me one last chance to take mine.
‘No, thanks!’ I say, wobbling slightly. He shrugs and knocks mine back too.
‘This feels oddly familiar,’ Alex says in my ear as he joins us. He accepts a shot and knocks it back.
‘Doesn’t it just?’ I give him an amused look. His eyes are darker again in this light. He reaches past me to put his shot glass on the bar, brushing my bare skin. All of the hairs on my arm stand on end. I shiver, trying to snap myself out of it and turn to speak to Lachie.
‘Are you looking forward to going home at Christmas?’ I ask him, trying to be friendly. I have to lean in close and shout in his ear.
‘Yes and no.’ He smiles. ‘Feels like I haven’t been here long enough, but it’ll be good to see my family. And who knows, maybe I’ll come back again.’
‘What will you do when you go back?’
‘Dunno.’ He shrugs. ‘Carrying on gigging, I guess. I don’t have any big career plans.’
It amuses me that he’s so laid-back. ‘I’m going to miss you!’ I impulsively loop my arms around his neck and give him a friendly hug, wobbling slightly in my inebriated state.
He pulls away and frowns down at me. What did I do?
‘Let’s dance!’ Bridget shouts, dragging me away before I can ask.
Later, with the soles of my feet burning beyond help, I search for somewhere to sit down. Spying Alex with a few of Maria’s friends, I go and join him. He scoots over on the bench seat to make room for me, but it’s still a squash.
‘My feet are killing me,’ I complain. ‘Why do I always wear stupid heels?’
He grins and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. It’s a far-too-familiar gesture and my eyes widen.
‘Sorry,’ he says, appearing equally taken aback.
I shake my head quickly and then a song comes on that obviously means something to Maria’s friends because they rush onto the dance floor, leaving us alone.
‘Did you ever think about me?’ The question is out before I can stop it.
He turns his head to look at me and his expression is tortured.
I know it’s wrong, I know that I’m drunk and I should get up and walk away. Or he should get up and walk away. But he doesn’t, and I’m glued to my seat.
He nods slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. ‘All the time.’
My heart crashes against my breastbone and I can feel my pulse throbbing in my ears.
‘What happened after I left?’ We’re sitting close together and we’re far away from the speakers so we don’t have to shout.
‘We pretty much picked up where we left off.’ He sighs heavily. ‘You were gone.’ His arms are folded, as are mine, and the fingers of his right hand suddenly brush against the fingers of my left. He doesn’t move away, and neither do I, and the contact feels electric.
‘I looked for your name in magazine mastheads,’ I tell him.
‘I worked for a newspaper.’ He gives me a sad smile.
‘I know.’
He shifts his hand closer and links his fingertips with mine. It feels so right. The rest of the room melts away around us.
I’m in love with him. The instant realisation makes me want to cry.
‘Why didn’t you wait at the top?’ I ask him, my nose beginning to prickle. ‘When I saw you on the escalator?’
‘I wanted to,’ he says. ‘But I thought about Zara and just... couldn’t.’
Hearing her name makes me reflexively close my fist, the motion taking my fingertips away from him.
‘Bronte...’ he murmurs. And then I look up to see Lisa coming towards us. Her smile falters slightly when she notices how closely together we’re sitting. Coming to my senses, I quickly edge away.
‘Hey!’ I exclaim brightly. ‘Having fun?’
‘Yeah, you?’ She sits down next to Alex and that’s the end of our conversation. For now.
Later, back at the villa, Russ and Maria call it a night, but Bridget persuades a few of the others to have a nightcap at the stone table by the barbeque. I find myself staring at the starry night sky. A far-off satellite is circling the earth and it looks like a shooting star in slow motion. The fresh air is clearing my head a little and I know I should go to bed. Rachel has already turned in and we both have to work tomorrow. Guessing what Bridget’s reaction will be to me leaving, I quietly slip away.
It’s stuffy in our bedroom, so I open the doors to the balcony. Now that I’m alone, my head has the space to contemplate what happened earlier with Alex. My mind begins to race again and I know that trying to sleep is futile. I take off my heels and step outside onto the balcony. The terracotta tiles under my feet have a sprinkling of sand which I im
agine is always there, no matter how many times they’re swept. I rest my elbows on the wrought-iron railing. The mountains in front of me are dark, but pinprick stars light the sky. I almost don’t hear the knock on my door.
‘Hello?’ I call, turning to peek into the room. The door opens and Alex walks in. He looks around the room.
‘I’m out here,’ I call quietly, my heart racing as he comes out onto the balcony.
‘We didn’t finish our conversation,’ he says, joining me at the railings.
‘Did you ever tell her about me?’ I ask him outright, now that we’re alone and finally speaking openly.
He hesitates a moment before answering. ‘No.’ He sighs. ‘I didn’t think there was any point in hurting her. It wasn’t like I was ever going to see you again.’
We both regard each other hopelessly. If only we’d known. Would we be in a different place right now? It’s too hard to say.
‘I couldn’t believe it when I saw you on that escalator,’ he tells me.
‘I ran back to the top. I looked everywhere for you,’ I whisper, remembering how much that search hurt.
‘I’m sorry. I just... freaked out. I could barely think straight when I got to work. I was starting a new job and I was a mess. And then when I arrived at the shoot and you were standing there on the pavement...’ He shakes his head in disbelief before staring up at the stars in silent contemplation. I see him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
‘I can’t believe you’re getting married,’ I say in a small voice, and as I fight back tears, I’m struck with the horrible thought that I am a bad person. I don’t deserve love. I don’t deserve him. He doesn’t belong to me. He belongs to Zara. He belonged to her for years, well before I came along and confused things.
Alex turns to face me, slowly reaching out to draw his fingers across my temple. There are so many butterflies in my stomach that I think I’d be able to hear them fluttering if it weren’t for the loud beating of my heart.
‘I don’t know what I’m doing,’ he whispers.
I love him. And it’s killing me.
He pulls me into his arms and I’m helpless to stop him. I close my eyes as he holds me tenderly, his hand cradling my head as I rest my face against his warm chest. My hands are clammy and my heart is pleading for some let-up. Tears spill out of my eyes and roll down my cheeks.
He pulls away a little and looks down at me. ‘Hey,’ he says with dismay, brushing away my tears with his thumbs.
‘You should go,’ I say, placing my hands on top of his and gently lowering them from my face. ‘The others might come looking for us. I think Lisa already suspects something.’
‘We’re not doing anything wrong.’ He frowns and lets his hands fall to his sides.
I give him an odd look and he sighs. ‘Okay.’ But he seems reluctant to leave. ‘Come here,’ he says, pulling me in for another hug, but this time it’s less intense and more friendly. ‘Are you okay?’ he asks into my hair.
‘Yeah.’ I pull away from him. ‘I should get some sleep. I have to work tomorrow.’
‘So you do.’
He follows me back into the room and I dust my sandy feet off before seeing him to the door. I open it up and peek out, but all is quiet. ‘See you in the morning,’ I say as he walks through. I start to close the door but he turns around and puts his hand on it, locking eyes with mine. He looks torn.
‘I don’t know what I’m doing,’ he says in a pained voice. In that moment, I’m certain he’s going to kiss me and I know I’m going to do nothing to stop him. The door to the outside opens behind him and I jolt as Lachie comes in. He looks shocked to see Alex and me facing each other in the doorway to my bedroom. My reaction is instinctive and I don’t think twice about shutting the door in Alex’s face.
Chapter 25
If I didn’t have a wedding to photograph, I think I’d be on the next plane home. Alex and Lachie are sharing a room, so I dread to think what they said to each other behind closed doors last night. Maybe they said nothing, but I’ll be surprised if there’s not an atmosphere between them today. Hopefully it will only be clear to me.
Bridget hasn’t asked me where I disappeared to last night. She’s so hungover, I don’t think she cares, if she even noticed. I heard her come in in the middle of the night. She crashed onto the bed without even getting undressed and I had to shake her awake this morning so she could get ready in time. She swore at me repeatedly.
I assist Rachel with the bride preparation photos downstairs in Maria’s grandfather’s apartment and it’s good to have something to take my mind off last night. Maria is glowing, despite her serious lack of sleep. We photograph her applying her own make-up.
‘How are you feeling?’ I give her a warm smile. It’s a question I’ve heard her ask so many brides.
She giggles. ‘Better than you.’
‘I don’t doubt that. Did you have fun last night?’ I ask as Rachel takes a photo of the pair of us talking to each other.
‘I loved it. Best hen night ever.’
I grin. ‘Do you think Russ enjoyed himself?’
‘Yeah, he had a wicked time. I bet he’s feeling rough today, though.’
Maria and Russ are getting married in the next town, just down the hill from here. Russ’s dad is ferrying everyone to and from the church in the minibus. Rachel checks her watch.
‘Do you think I should go?’ I ask her reluctantly.
‘It’s probably time.’
I stand up unwillingly. We agreed that I would photograph the guests boarding the bus, but I really don’t want to face Alex and Lachie.
It’s a bright and sunny day, which according to Maria is not as normal as you’d think for northern Spain. Apparently it rains a lot up here. Then again, it is very green.
My head is pounding as I walk up the stairs to the drive where I can hear the murmur and chatter of happy people talking and laughing. I see Lachie standing with Bridget. She’s wearing dark sunglasses and seems a bit the worse for wear, even though she looks lovely in a floaty, knee-length emerald-green dress. Alex, I notice, is standing on the other side of the drive with Tim and his girlfriend. He’s wearing a suit and my heart hurts to look at him so I don’t. I soon discover that he’s avoiding eye contact with me anyway. He’s not the only one. Lachie won’t look at me, either. Even as he boards the bus and sits at a window on my side, he keeps his eyes trained forward.
My face burns as the bus pulls away. I should be relieved that they were the first to go to the church, but my stomach swirls with nerves and nausea, which I’m pretty sure is not alcohol-induced. It will be at least fifteen minutes before the minibus returns for the next load so I go for a walk and take some photographs of the marquee. Really it’s just an excuse to get away from all of the people. I take a deep breath and try to settle my stomach. Today is going to be tough.
Russ comes out of the villa with his best man and I force a smile back onto my face as I capture him for posterity.
I’d love to see Maria board the bus, but I have to go with Russ to the church, so I hurry down to the apartment to wish her good luck. Rachel is lacing up her corset while Maria’s only bridesmaid – a friend of hers from school – stands helplessly by. Rachel has had a lot of practice. My eyes prick with tears and I photograph the sight with blurry vision. Hopefully it’s my eyes and not my lens which is unfocused. I laughingly brush my tears away and try again to make sure I’m not messing it up.
Maria looks absolutely beautiful in an elegant cream-coloured silk gown. She’s not starting to show yet – well, only slightly, but the way the skirt flows from the bust downwards makes it a perfect choice for hiding a little bump.
I give her a kiss good luck and go back upstairs to join Russ on the minibus.
The church is constructed of red brick and slightly crumbling grey stone and I’m not entirely sure it’s safe. Russ seems nervous, but for entirely different reasons. I photograph him and his best man as they kick up dust with their
black shoes on the stone path outside the church. Eventually they go inside and my stomach churns as I follow them. This time it’s not the church that’s the problem; it’s the people sitting in the dark wooden pews. I focus on my job and photograph the pretty, simple hydrangeas attached to the ends of the pews, while Bridget teasingly tries to distract me.
‘Take your glasses off, you idiot,’ I mutter at her. She’s still wearing them indoors.
Lachie is sitting beside her, studiously looking at his finger-nails. I click off a shot of Bridget and then move up to the front of the church. I say hello to the Spanish priest, who doesn’t speak a word of English, so I hope we’re going to get on. He seems friendly enough. I wonder who’s going to translate the service to Russ and the rest of us.
I step up towards the altar rail, tensing when I see the old pipe organ. I photograph it quickly and then turn around to see Russ taking his place next to his best man. I click off some shots of them before flipping the focus to capture his mother dabbing at her eyes in the pew behind him. I lower my camera and my eyes lock with Alex’s. He averts his gaze immediately.
I could cry. Things are going to be weird between us from now on, I just know it. It’s hard enough that I’ve admitted to myself that I’m in love with him. I lift my camera up to hide my face, forcing myself to photograph the simple, stained-glass windows before calling it quits. I go outside to wait for Maria.
She arrives on time and looking beautiful, wearing her late grandmother’s veil. Rachel helps her to adjust it as I lean against the heavy wooden church door and fight back tears. I know it’s normal for people to get emotional at weddings, but it’s not normal for me. I take a few photographs, even though this part is Rachel’s bag, and then move into the church. Rachel pats my arm and I see her eyes are shining too as she moves past me into the church. The organ starts to play and I photograph Maria taking a deep, calming breath while she braces herself. Her father looks grave as he offers his arm, and then she fixes me with a confident smile and walks steadily towards me.
She is really going through with this. I wasn’t sure if she would. They barely know each other. It blows my mind that they’re about to commit to a life together. My attention shifts to Russ. His nose goes bright pink when he sees her and I notice him swallow, but then he smiles bravely, happily, and there isn’t a shadow of doubt in my mind that he loves her and wants to be with her.
