ChapterSix

Saturday in Sussex,and Lexie thought it would probably be the last wedding of the year if a late, last-minute booking didn’t miraculously appear. Eleven months ago, when Simon asked her to do the photography for this wedding, she’d thought he was joking.

‘There’s no need to look so surprised,’ he’d said. ‘You made it obvious we were over. What did you think I’d do? Fade into the shadows, hoping you’d come back to me.’

‘No,’ she argued. ‘That wasn’t what I expected – but a month, Simon! Only a month since we split up.’

‘Since you finished with me,’ he corrected, then he’d had the good grace to look embarrassed before he went on, ‘I know it wasn’t good timing, and I’m sorry, but it happened. Not planned or anything. It wasn’t as if I even knew Debbie when you and I were together. I wasn’t cheating on you, if that’s what you think. Don’t you know I was gutted when you finished with me, Lexie?’

‘Yes,’ she’d answered, feeling sorry again for what she’d done. She had never meant to hurt Simon.

He calmed a little and rested his hand on her arm. ‘I guess we both hurt each other in the end. I’m sorry.’

‘Me too.’

He gave her a sad smile. ‘We were good together, but I understand now how it wasn’t enough for either of us. When I met Debbie at a friend’s party and … well, you know how it is.’

Lexie remembered shaking her head. Twenty-eight years old and after relationships, good and bad, falling in love still eluded her. Sometimes she thought it was her fault. Maybe she was too demanding or just wasn’t cut out for a happy-ever-after.

Simon had continued, ‘You don’t choose the when, the how or even the who. When you meet the right person, it happens. You can’t control it. I thought you were the right person. Then I met Debbie, and I understood why you finished with me. You did the right thing. For both of us.’

And eleven months later, on the first Saturday in October, they were at Whyton House, a stately home on the north side of the South Downs behind Brighton, at the wedding of the year. The groom, Simon Armitage, rising local lawyer and his bride, Debbie Arnold, a girl Lexie had slightly known at school. Debbie looked stunning in ivory lace, and Simon was radiantly happy. He seemed to have grown, shed his inhibitions, taken control of his life. Debbie seemed to make him the man he was always supposed to be.

Lexie did her usual routine. Starting with photos of the bride on her own. A time when she would usually settle any last-minute bridal nerves. Debbie had been serene. Then after the wedding, she did the large group shots, which took the ability to herd cats to make them work. Lexie liked to get those done first, leaving her able to concentrate on the happy couple without the distraction of their friends and family. She got Simon and Debbie to pose together by the fountain, in front of the grand house and under an ancient oak, its autumnal leaves blowing in the wind. There wasn’t a better backdrop than the beautiful Whyton House and its grounds, whatever the season.

‘Last one, guys.’ Lexie took the final exterior photo. Simon kissed his new wife and whispered something to her. Lexie pushed her camera into its bag, ready to go into the house. It was the reception next – the bit she liked least, even when it wasn’t her ex getting married. All human life could be found at wedding receptions, from a father of the bride having a heart attack and the best man getting off with the bride to a weeping maid of honour secretly in love with the groom. Lexie had seen it all. No wonder she was so jaded. No wonder she didn’t believe in romantic love anymore.

‘See you later, Lexie,’ Debbie interrupted Lexie’s thoughts.

‘Oh, y-yes.’ Lexie looked up, puzzled to see the bride gathering up her skirts, ready to head off towards the house on her own.

‘Thanks, You’ve been brilliant,’ Debbie called over her shoulder as she set off, holding her veil in place with one hand and holding up her skirt with the other.

Smiling happily, Simon pulled Lexie into his arms. Glancing over his shoulder, Lexie watched the departing bride and thought this didn’t seem right. Why wasn’t Simon glued to Debbie’s side?

‘Shouldn’t you be with your new wife?’

‘Yes, but I wanted to thank you properly. Debbie knows. She agrees. You’ve been great about everything.’

‘Only doing my job, being professional.’

‘I know.’ He kissed her on the cheek.

‘Stop it.’ Lexie slapped his arm. ‘I’ve done nothing at all. Except for my job.’

‘Walk with me back to the house?’

Debbie had already disappeared through the grand portico at the front of the mansion.

‘All right,’ Lexie agreed, still not sure that this tête-à-tête with her ex was appropriate. She grabbed her bag and avoided taking hold of Simon’s outstretched, upturned hand.

‘How’s it going with Miles?’ he asked.

‘Gone. I gave him his marching orders last night.’

‘You didn’t want to go with him?’

‘Go?’