Outside Bannerdale Church, Travis unloaded his gear from the rear of his car. While he collected his equipment Freya had gone on ahead in the Rolls to let Roxanne and the wedding party know he was on his way.
Adrenaline pumped through him. He hadn’t done a wedding for over ten years, and only then because a close friend had asked, and he’d needed the cash to fund a foreign tour. He didn’t have the right kit and lenses, he was horribly rusty with photographing people – and the expectations on him would be sky-high.
Yet how could he possibly have refused Freya? It was fortunate that Bree had called in and was able to look after the shop for him. Otherwise, he’d have had to close, which he could ill afford to this near to Christmas.
When she’d turned up at the gallery, her cheeks pink with cold, looking stunning in that dress – he’d almost dropped the picture glass he’d been holding. His throat had turned dry and he’d been thrust back to the night he’d proposed to her and they’d decided to run away.
She’d been beautiful then and she still was now, swamped by his mountain jacket, waving frantically from the church door with the rest of the wedding party.
He came to his senses. Freya needed him – but she didn’t need him. She’d only come flying into the shop because she wanted his professional skills.
With his camera and tripod, he joined them by the front door. The bridge, groom, best man and Roxanne’s parents looked at him as if he was their saviour. His stomach fluttered with a rare dose of nerves. This wasn’t his field of expertise and very different from his day job. So many times he’d gone out looking for an animal and failed to see it. That was nature and there was usually another chance. Not today: this was – hopefully – once in a lifetime and he dare not disappoint.
‘Thank God you’re here, lad!’ Mr Jameson said, shaking his hand furiously. Travis remembered the man from school when he’d come in to help with rugby practice. He’d actually encouraged Travis to join a club but he’d been too interested in heading for the hills at the weekends.
‘Lucky I wasn’t out on the fells leading a course,’ he said, trying to manage expectations and remind the party of his real job. He smiled, realising they needed him to take charge and be confident. ‘In view of the time and the temperature, we’ll just take a few pictures out here in the churchyard and the bulk at the reception,’ he said. ‘The Langdale Manor has beautiful grounds from what I can remember.’
‘It’s the best hotel in the Lakes,’ Roxanne’s mother declared then rubbed her hands together nervously. ‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’
‘Mum!’ Roxanne cried. ‘Travis is famous.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. I thought he only did squirrels?’
Travis saw Freya cringe but he grinned, highly amused. ‘I’ll do my best given the short notice, Mrs Jameson. Shall we grab a few group shots so we can all get out of this freezing weather and over to the hotel?’
Drawing on all his old skills from his past, Travis marshalled the immediate wedding party and a few close relatives and friends together. It wasn’t like lying in wait for a pine marten or a grizzly bear; in many ways it was much less predictable …
Calling people to order, getting them all to smile and look at the camera when they were nervous, hated being the centre of attention, were cold, hungry and probably a bit bored, was never easy.
It didn’t help that his camera kept being drawn to Freya, focusing on tiny details that made him want to linger forever. The colour of her dress was perfect for her; he wasn’t sure how to describe it except it matched the rosy hue of her cheeks. Even the nape of her neck was a work of art, a few wispy tendrils of hair tickling the bare skin. He’d never wanted her as much as he did now – which was inconvenient when they were in the middle of a hundred wedding guests.
He dragged his attention back to the family shots. He’d abandoned a group shot of everyone since some of the older and youngest guests had already been taken to the hotel to keep warm.
He managed a couple of pictures of Roxanne and Ravi together in the churchyard before suggesting – firmly – that it was time for everyone to head for the hotel as the bride was turning blue.
So, he thought as he drove to the hotel, the first part of the job was over. Now, all he had to do was spend an hour shooting a few photos in the grounds and function room, then leave them to it.
Driving through the stone pillars at the entrance to the Langdale Manor took his breath away momentarily. The building was even grander and more exclusive than his memories of it. His mum had briefly had a job as a chamber maid there and taken him with her one day and it had seemed like a medieval castle. This was no surprise, as the place had been built for a Victorian industrialist, with towers and a crenelated roof resembling a fairy tale palace. The grounds stretched down in terraces to the lakeshore, with a range of high fells opposite reflected in the still waters.
Most of the guests were inside, doubtless quaffing mulled wine by the log fires, but the bride and groom – with Freya – were waiting by the main entrance. Freya was swaddled in his coat and a pair of monogrammed hotel wellies, and some genius from the hotel seemed to have supplied Roxanne and Ravi with full-length puffer coats.
‘We absolutely must have some pictures of the two of us by the boat house if it’s OK?’ Roxanne asked. ‘It’s so beautiful with the lake behind it and the fells topped with snow. It was going to be one of our hero shots for the album.’
Travis could hardly say no and in truth, he was also entranced by the location. It would be no hardship to take some photos there.
‘Why not?’ he said.
‘Freya, would you come with us to hold my bouquet?’ Roxanne asked sweetly.
‘Of course,’ Freya said, taking the flowers and catching Travis’s eye. ‘Thank you,’ she mouthed.
He felt he’d been conferred a favour by a beautiful but haughty princess. His pulse skittered. Hadn’t their relationship always been like that?
‘Here’s the transport,’ Ravi said as a golf buggy glided towards them.
They all squeezed in, Travis sitting in the back seat next to Freya, trying not to get any of his gear on her dress.
‘I am grateful,’ she murmured as they were driven past statues and terraced lawns to the lakeshore, where a stone boat house stood at the water’s edge, a mini castle in its own right.
‘It’s no problem …’ Travis said.
Roxanne was helped out of the buggy by Ravi, her face rapt. ‘That’s the honeymoon suite on top of the boat house,’ she said, breathily. ‘We’re spending the night there before we fly off on honeymoon tomorrow.’
Travis tried not to think of spending the night there with Freya.
‘Sounds great,’ he said gruffly, avoiding her eye. ‘Now, guys, I think if you both stand here, we’ll have all the drama of the fells behind you.’
Freya stood by, holding the bouquet when required and the cloak for a few minutes while Roxanne posed in her sleeveless dress as if it was the middle of the summer. Travis had already noticed the light softening and the sun slipping lower towards the fell tops. In this ‘golden hour’ the light hit Freya perfectly, giving her skin and hair a soft glow.
‘Could we just have a teeny few on the jetty?’ Roxanne wheedled.
Ravi intervened. ‘Roxy. I expect Travis wants to get back to work.’
‘To work? Oh – oh, I thought he was staying for the reception. There’s the first dance too – and the party. Our real – I mean the first – photographer was booked for a full day.’ Roxanne smiled sweetly at Travis. ‘We will pay you the full fee, and a bonus, of course.’
‘It’s not that,’ Travis began to protest.
Freya jumped in. ‘I only asked Travis to come and take a few pictures at the church in an emergency,’ she said. ‘I didn’t ask him to stay all day.’
‘Oh. Oh …’ Roxanne’s face crumpled. ‘I understand. I just – I kind of thought that as he was here already with all his equipment, he might …’
‘I … could stay for a short time,’ he said. ‘Maybe do some poses with the cake? That sort of thing?’
Roxanne’s face lit up. ‘Would you?’
‘I’ll have to phone Bree. She’s looking after the gallery,’ he said, imagining his sister’s reaction when she heard she’d be left alone.
He kicked himself for even offering but how could he turn Roxanne down?
‘Are you sure?’ Freya said, coming closer.
Sure? He wasn’t sure about anything, other than she looked amazing and was setting off fireworks inside him every time he looked at her, or heard her voice …
‘Yes,’ he lied. ‘I’ll call Bree now and tell her to close early if she can’t cope.’
‘But this is your busy time. You’ve just opened and it’s almost Christmas.’
‘It’s half-past two now. We close at four-thirty. I’ll offer Bree the fee Roxanne is paying me.’
Freya nodded though there was doubt in her eyes. ‘If you really don’t mind.’
‘It’s your friend’s special day,’ he said with a smile. ‘How could I mind?’
While the three of them went into the hotel, Travis called Bree, expecting the hairdryer treatment down the phone.
‘It’s been manic,’ she said, which caused Travis to feel a fresh pang of guilt. ‘But I’ve managed. In fact, I’ve rather enjoyed it. Bet I’ve sold a lot more than you would have.’
‘I don’t doubt it,’ Travis said, amused and secretly proud of his sister’s competitive spirit. ‘You’re doing a stellar job and I’ve got something that might alleviate the pain of you being thrown in at the deep end.’
Sure enough the offer of a substantial fee, more than he could possibly pay her for her shift, was enough to console her considerably.
‘I can’t take all your fee, though!’ she said. ‘I’ll share it.’
‘We’ll see,’ said Travis. ‘I haven’t shown them the pictures yet. They might change their minds about the cash when they see them.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ Bree scoffed. ‘You’ll do a much better job than that bloke they’d booked originally. Have you heard how he is by the way?’
‘Just cuts and bruises apparently, though he’s still there having a scan to double check. Thank you, Bree, I do appreciate it. Lock up for me, please, will you? I’ve a feeling this might go on a bit.’