Page 55 of The Wedding Pact
‘Nothing,’ August and Flynn confirmed in unison, standing before her, hand in hand, like the creepy twins fromThe Shining.
Mrs Haverley’s eyes swept the room one more time as she cracked open the door, a draught of September air from the landing wafting in. And then she stopped, her head tilted to the side, and her eyes narrowed.
‘You got married in Cornwall?’ she asked.
August gulped. ‘Yes.’
‘On a beach?’
‘That’s right,’ said Flynn, keeping his voice light and chirpy.
Mrs Haverley pointed a finger towards the photo she’d commented on earlier. ‘Steep Holm.’
‘Pardon?’ said Flynn. He could feel August’s palm beginning to sweat against his.
‘That’s Steep Holm in the background of your wedding picture, the island off Weston-super-Mare.’
August turned her head in slow motion to look at the photograph.
Mrs Haverley, her voice low, asked, ‘Why is it there if you married on a beach in Cornwall?’
Flynn and August looked at the photo, and the very small blob on the horizon behind Flynn’s shoulder. A thousand thoughts raced through August’s mind like a lie-basedWheel of Fortunemachine. It tried to locate, as quickly as possible, the most feasible excuse.
Ratatatatatatat– The wedding pictures had been ruined so they tried to recreate them nearby? A bit far-fetched.
Ratatatatatatat– This was actually the engagement shoot? Believable, but would they then need to go and take another set of wedding pictures? She didn’t have another white dress.
Ratatata-ta-ta—ta—ta— gaslight a poor lady in her late seventies into thinking she can’t believe her own eyesight? She’d run out of thinking time so that had to be the winner.
‘It does look like Steep Holm, doesn’t it?’ August laughed. ‘It’s actually a cargo ship sailing past in the distance. We asked the photographer to photoshop them all out, but she must have missed this one and we never noticed.’
Flynn laughed with hearty gusto. ‘That photographer, we’ll have to ask her to redo that one, won’t we love?’
‘We sure will, honey,’ August chortled, angling the two of them between Mrs Haverley and the photo, so that their bodies were blocking it. ‘Thanks for pointing that out, Mrs Haverley. And thanks for coming over.’
‘Yes, thanks,’ added Flynn.
‘Lovely to see you,’ said August, holding the door open.
Mrs Haverley gave one of her no-nonsense nods once again, and seeming satisfied, left their flat. Abe went out along with her, meeting August’s eye for a second as she was closing the door.
As the door shut, August let out a sigh. ‘Hubby, fetch me my laptop,’ she said to Flynn. ‘I appear to have some photoshopping to take care of.’
As he dutifully went off to get her computer for her, she let her breathing return to normal. But what was normal? Because this didn’t feel much like a normal way to live, more like a web they were getting tangled further and further into.
Chapter 35
August
‘Happy Anniversary!’ cried Callie and her mum, standing on the landing and holding a huge cake covered in mint icing.
August blinked. ‘Thank you?’
‘I couldn’t remember the exact date you got hitched last year, but you said early October, which is now, so I figured you love birds would be celebrating for days.’ Callie pushed past August and plonked the cake down in her kitchen, slicing four great slabs and throwing open cupboards until she found plates.
Flynn appeared. ‘What’s the cake for? Yum!’
‘Our anniversary,’ August explained. ‘Our wedding anniversary.’
