by Clare Lydon
Heidi had noticed a growing trend for London weddings lately. People had got bored with the idea of trekking to stately mansions in the home counties, wanting instead to get married in the heart of the city. Today’s ceremony was taking place in a disused church, with photos afterwards just around the corner in Soho Square.
The wedding went off without a hitch, which pleased and disappointed Heidi in equal measure. Pleased because that meant happy, smiling faces for her photos, and happy clients who paid on time. Disappointed because, just once, she wanted to be at a wedding where someone got jilted at the altar, or where someone spoke up to declare their undying love for one of the leads. She guessed maybe that only happened in films and books, but she lived in hope. Last year she’d done 35 weddings, so the chances for her were higher than most of the population.
The bride and groom were now leading the crowd out of the church that wasn’t a church, confetti and laughter coating the air. Heidi loved this part of weddings. The most optimistic part, where everything was still new, like virgin snow. However, one glance up at the dark clouds told Heidi they might have an issue. The wedding party had provided large umbrellas that were being carried by the groomsmen, but a torrential downpour was the mortal enemy of any wedding party. The clock was ticking, and it was time for Heidi to get shouty. They not only had to battle the impending rain, but also the fact the photos were being taken in a public park.
“Okay, listen up, wedding party! The clouds overhead look ominous, so if we could get a wriggle on to Soho Square to get our outdoor shots done before the heavens open, that would be awesome. Remember, nobody gets a drink until we get to the venue. The quicker you walk, the quicker I can snap, the quicker you get champagne.”
A murmur went around the crowd at that. Heidi knew how to press buttons and get people to do what she wanted.
Luckily, Soho Square wasn’t quite as packed as Heidi had been fearing, the Tudor building in the centre drawing excited chatter from the wedding party. They selected the nearest corner of the grass-covered square and asked people already there to move. If they were annoyed, they didn’t show it. Weddings held a magic nobody wanted to pop.
It only took five minutes to get everyone in place, and then it was time for Heidi to work her particular brand of magic. She might be only five foot six, but what she lacked in height she more than made up for with the boom of her voice.
“Okay, well done on making it here. One step closer to the champagne. Let’s have a little cheer for the champagne!”
The crowd cheered, as did the growing group of onlookers behind her.
“What I need you to do is organise yourselves so you can see me. Remember, if you can’t see me, I can’t see you. Everyone make sure you can see my ugly mug before you settle.”
Just as she said the final word, a fat drop of ice-cold rain hit her nose.
Shit, she needed to get this done quick, otherwise she’d have a drowned bridal party and that was never a good look. She looked through her lens, then dropped her camera. “Can everyone see me? Even those at the back?”
There was jostling and laughter as a few women on the left rearranged themselves.
She checked the lens again. One of the women — tall, in a jaunty floral trouser suit that Heidi had admired from the back earlier — was outside her view. Heidi waved her hand. “I need you to scoot in a bit more, lady on the left in the floral suit.” The woman shifted, but not enough.
The rain began to fall that little bit more, and the crowd murmured.
“Madam, please move in and we can get this done and go inside!” Heidi’s tone was firmer, because she could sense a revolt on her hands. The woman shifted out of sight.
“Can you see me?” Heidi was shouting now.
The woman moved a fraction.
“For fuck’s sake,” Heidi muttered under her breath. She needed to take this. She snapped a few shots, but knew she’d lost the crowd.
“Okay!” She held up her hand. “Let’s get going before we get soaked!”
The wedding party were on to their main course, speeches done and photographed. Heidi was taking a well-earned break, due back in the main room after the desserts were eaten. She sat in the bar, which looked over Trafalgar Square and London beyond. She sipped her glass of white and stared at the London Eye going round so slowly that its movement was almost imperceptible. She’d just finished her steak and chips when a noise startled her.
She looked up to see the woman in the floral suit walk in, her phone stuck to her ear. She glanced up and caught sight of Heidi looking her way.
When their gazes locked, Heidi’s lips parted.
Fuck, it was her. That woman who’d crashed into her this week. Waitrose Flo-Jo. She’d thought she looked familiar earlier, but hadn’t seen her close up. Now, with just the two of them in this bar, all other distractions were gone. The woman’s mouth curled into a smile of recognition as she hung up her call and walked over.
“We meet again.” Her golden hair was like a ray of sunshine, swept back from her head, the back just touching her collar.
“Seems that way.” Heidi still hadn’t forgiven her. “A bit early to escape the wedding, isn’t it?”
The woman smiled, revealing a pristine set of straight white teeth. “Just doing a bit of work.”
“At a wedding?”
The woman shrugged. “I never stop working.” She held out a hand. “It’s about time we introduced ourselves. I can this time, seeing as I’m walking at a steady pace. I’m Eden.”
“Which makes your floral suit all the more apt.” Heidi shook her hand. Eden’s handshake was firm, sure of itself. She oozed cool. Heidi bet she worked in the media. A journalist, maybe. Although journalists couldn’t usually afford such expensive-looking suits.
Eden sat down opposite her.
“I’m Heidi.”
“I know.” Eden crossed one leg over the other, her gaze settling on Heidi’s empty plate, and then Heidi. “Did you enjoy your steak?”
Heidi nodded. “For wedding food, above average.”
“I suspect you would know.” Eden’s gaze pinned her to the spot. “You know, when you were shouting at me earlier, I wondered if this was your default with me.”
“Only when you deserve it.” Heidi cleared her throat. “You weren’t in shot, so you deserved it.”
“Apparently so.”
Heidi regarded her again. Her eyes weren’t so watery today. They were bluer, more steady. “How’s your head?”
Eden nodded. “Better. How are your period pains?”
“Better also.” Heidi tried and failed to stop a blush rising to her cheeks. She picked up her wine and took a healthy slug. “You certainly look more relaxed than when I first met you.”
“Not hard.” Eden smiled. She had a piercing smile. She should use it more often.
“You look familiar, though. I thought that last week when you crashed into me.”
Eden shook her head. “I thought the same, but I can’t pin it down.” She cocked her head, went to say something, then shook her head.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Eden’s gaze met hers, then dropped sharply.
“Tell me what you were going to say.” Heidi’s tone was firm.
Eden flicked her gaze back up.
Damn, her eyes were blue.
“Okay, you asked for it. This might be a bit out there, but are you gay?”
Heidi’s heartbeat picked up as she nodded. It always happened when she was asked that question. It was rarely uttered without consequences, good or bad. “I am. Why do you ask?”
Eden put a finger to her chest, raising her square chin. “I am, too, so maybe I’ve seen you around. I know the scene’s bigger in London, but the six degrees of separation thing still counts.”
“Very true. Although I don’t get out on the scene so much these days. Blame my job. It doesn’t leave a lot of time for weekend socialising.”
“I guess not.” Eden tilted her head. “Is
this time of year that busy? Do people get married in February?”
Heidi laughed. “We’re at a wedding, aren’t we? Although I do have next Saturday off. I’m going to a festival with my sister. I haven’t been to a gig in years and I’m really looking forward to it.” She glanced out the window. “I just hope the weather’s kinder than today.”
Eden’s mouth curled into a grin. “It’s not the Year Awakening festival, is it?”
“It is. Why?”
Eden nodded. “I’m going, too. So we get to spend two weekends in a row together. Isn’t that something?”
“Something good, or something bad?” Heidi gave her a measured smile to go with her comment. Eden was attractive, and kind of annoying. Knowing she was a lesbian had raised the stakes.
Eden lifted her impressively styled left eyebrow. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “I’m looking forward to seeing the headliner. Are you a fan?”
Heidi nodded. “I am. I love her latest. She’s got the energy of PJ Harvey when she launched.”
“I love PJ Harvey.” Eden’s eyes lit up.
“Me, too.” Heidi sat forward. “I’ve seen her in concert five times. I had a signed copy of her debut album on vinyl. My mum threw it out, thinking it was rubbish.”
Eden put her head in her hands. “No!” She peeked through her fingers. “Do you still speak to her?”
Heidi smiled. “She’s my mum. It’s kind of in the contract.”
“Not necessarily.” Something crossed over Eden’s face, but Heidi couldn’t place it. “I’m going to the festival with friends for my 40th birthday. If you see me, please stop me to commiserate.”
“I’ll try to remember,” Heidi replied. “I turned 40 last year, and you want to know the difference?”
“Love to.”
Heidi sipped her wine. “Here’s the difference. If you die in your 30s, it’s a tragedy. The papers will write it up as such. But if you die in your 40s, you just die. It’s not tragic anymore. Once you turn 40, you’re officially old.”
Eden exhaled before replying. “Aren’t you a ray of sunshine? You’re telling me I’ve got one more week of youth?”
Heidi nodded. “Use it wisely.”
Eden pushed her chair back. “My first wise move is going to be to go back to the wedding and eat my sticky toffee pudding. I’m not sure my personal trainer would say that was wise, but if my death’s not going to be tragic anymore, I don’t need to worry, do I?” She stood up, smoothing down her trousers, her hand gliding over the petals of a red rose.
Her hands looked strong, capable. Heidi’s gaze settled on them for a brief moment.
“Are you coming, too?”
Heidi pressed her phone, then shook her head. “Fifteen minutes till I’m back on duty. They’re bringing my dessert here.”
Eden hesitated. “You want some company for it?”
Heidi shook her head. “You go and make the most of your last week of youth. Don’t waste it on the aged.”
Chapter 6
Eden picked up the post from their shared mailbox by the front door, flicking through it as she walked back up the stairs to her first-floor flat. Her stomach was tumbling, even at her age. Why did she do this to herself every year? She knew the rules, she’d learned them the hard way. But clearly, there was still a sliver of her that hoped 40 might be different.
It wasn’t. Her stomach duly rolled and pitched. She took a deep breath before she went back into the flat.
A gas bill, a mailer for a new gym, something from the tax office, a card from her friend Evan and one from her aunt. But nothing from her mother. Deep down, she’d known there wouldn’t be. Why would her mum even know where she lived?
It didn’t stop it hurting, though.
When Eden walked into their kitchen, Lib was standing wrapped in her baby blue dressing gown, her short red hair all over the place. She was wearing a grin that didn’t cover up her sleepy eyes, holding an elaborately decorated cupcake with a single candle stuck in the top. “Happy birthday! You want me to light this now, or shall we have it drunk later?”
Eden took a deep breath and slapped a smile on her face. “Later. And thank you.”
Lib put the cupcake down and gave Eden a hug, squeezing her tight. “I love you, have I told you that lately?”
“Only when you’re drinking yet more of my gin.”
Lib gave her a grin. “I love you the most then, it’s true. But I love you on your birthday all day long, like any good friend should. Was there much post?”
Another scratch to her heart. Eden shook her head, busying herself filling the kettle. “The usual, plus a couple of cards for me.” Eden could still taste the disappointment on her tongue. What would her gran do? She’d tell her to take no notice of her mother, that no good could come of it.
“Who are the cards from?” Lib picked up the pile. “The tax office sent you a new tax code. That’s nice of them.”
“They think of everything.” Eden made the tea. She was determined to focus on the cards she had, not the ones she didn’t. Like she did every year.
“Come to the lounge and I’ll show you the card I bought you. If it doesn’t win best card ever, there’s something seriously wrong in the world.” Lib raised both eyebrows. “And then you know what we’re going to do?”
Eden smiled, ignoring the echo of disappointment in her heart. Lib’s enthusiasm was infectious. “What?”
“We’re going to the festival and giving you the best 40th birthday ever!”
Eden gulped. She was going to try. Put this out of mind and focus on making today the best last day of her 30s possible.
“By the way, did you hear back about the kittens?”
That brought a genuine grin. “I did, and I got one. A little black-and-white one. I get to pick it up in six weeks.”
Lib hugged her. “Awesome. Soon you’re going to be a 40-year-old with a fur baby. Who’d have thought it?”
The grass was already soft underfoot when they arrived at the festival at just after 2pm, the sweet, fresh smell of wet earth hanging in the air after last night’s downpour. The sun was trying to break through, but the forecast was for more rain later. Eden had come prepared with a cagoule in her bag, but she was also ready to get wet. This was exactly the sort of thing she was determined not to stress about; tomorrow she turned 40, so what was a little rain between friends?
Plus, the organisers had clearly read the forecast. Though the main stage was open to the elements, the two smaller stages were inside red and blue-striped circus tents. What’s more, most of the bars dotted around the space were under cover, with a large amount of seating available at the wine bar, its sign already brightly lit. It was a festival squarely aimed at their age group. This was further hammered home by the number of gourmet food trucks lined up to their right. Eden had her eye on the taco truck already. Straight ahead, a massive banner proclaimed this was the first festival of the year.
It was a good omen: Eden was kicking off her next decade with a bang.
However, when she turned to her friend Issy, Eden was pretty sure she wasn’t thinking the same thing.
“Perhaps Barcelona would have been the wiser choice.” Issy’s face had been set to grimace-mode ever since they’d stepped onto the damp grass.
“But this was the greener choice. Far less of a carbon footprint, you have to admit.” Eden knew Issy would have to concede that point. Ever since she’d had her twins, Issy was all about being green.
“Yes, but it’s 29 degrees in Barcelona.”
“No moaning, that’s my birthday orders. Sweetness and light all day, okay?”
Issy went to reply, caught herself, then gave Eden a wide smile. “Let’s find the bar. Sweetness and light will surely follow hot on its heels, agreed?” She threaded an arm through Eden’s, grabbed her wife Kath, who in turn was hanging on to Lib, and they began to march towards the bar in a row. Up ahead, the crowd was patchy; they were some of the fir
st to arrive.
Halfway through the second set on the main stage — a Cuban rhythm band — the rain began to fall. Eden pulled on her cagoule as the rain spat down in random patterns, not quite enough for umbrellas, but enough for furrowed brows.
She was taken back to the wedding last weekend, and to Heidi, who’d had to deal with the rain while she was taking her photos, and had done so with aplomb.
The thought of her made Eden smile. She wasn’t sure what it was, but in the short time they’d spent together at the wedding, Eden had placed Heidi in the ‘want to know more’ box and that didn’t happen often. In fact, it never happened.
Eden had been happily single for the past seven years, and bizarre as it seemed to her friends, she was settled in her solo life. So much so, she couldn’t imagine it being any other way. Eden was happy with her lot. Content. Even though her friends didn’t believe it and so wanted to trip over themselves to make sure she didn’t feel lonely on her big birthday. Eden had endured a lifetime of lonely. She was used to it.
She’d looked for Heidi after the wedding meal had finished, but she hadn’t found her. A different photographer had appeared for the dancing portion of the evening, and the hum of disappointment inside her had been strange. Eden had wanted to wipe it away, but she had to admit: Heidi had something about her. Verve. Drive. Piercing sense of humour. Or perhaps it was the way she shouted at people that made them pay attention. Eden liked her no-nonsense attitude.
She was here today, too. Eden had looked for her, but hadn’t seen her yet. They could do with Heidi’s crowd-management talents now. All around her, faces were pinched as people tried to work out how to handle the rain. Eden had already decided. She was going to stay exactly where she was and embrace it. The feel of the rain on her skin, the semi-warmth of the muted sunshine on her face. She was outside for a change, with live music, her friends, and a drink. Life was good, and a little rain wasn’t going to stop that.
However, when the rain began to cascade in steady sheets half an hour later, it was a different story. Umbrellas were popped, coats embraced. Torrential rain wasn’t in the script. But she was determined not to let it dampen her mood, even though she might be damp herself.
