by Karen King
‘To be honest, I’m just so pleased to see him looking livelier and actually eating, that I haven’t got the heart to scold him today.’ Hattie finished her toast and picked up her mug of tea, thinking how surreal yet comfortable it was to be sitting at the table sharing breakfast with Marcus and Buddy.
Thankfully, Marcus persuaded Buddy back into the cage with another piece of toast.
‘You really do have a bond with him, don’t you?’ she said as Marcus closed the cage door.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. ‘I’ve known him years, remember. You’ll get there in time.’
Would she though? She loved cuddly animals, dogs and cats that sat on your lap and let you stroke them; she didn’t really know what to do with grumpy parrots who swore, sulked and pinched the food out of your hands. She was determined to keep persevering, though.
Marcus took his phone out of his pocket and dabbed at it with his finger, ‘Here’s my number if you want to send that photo over.’ He held the screen out so she could see the phone number on it. ‘Best to keep a note of it anyway, in case you’re ever worried about Buddy.’
‘Thanks,’ she keyed the number into her phone then selected the photo and sent it over to Marcus.
He immediately opened it and smiled. ‘You’ve really caught Buddy’s character well.’ He put the phone back in his pocket. ‘See you later at the hotel.’
And to Hattie’s surprise, she found she was looking forward to it.
It took her a while to decide what to wear. ‘You’re the photographer not a guest,’ she reminded herself, but even so, she wanted to look good – summery but smart. She wasn’t one for dresses and finally settled on a pair of white-and-red, floral-print fitted trousers, a red sweetheart-necked top and red flat pumps. Then she picked up her camera bag, double-checked the equipment inside: camera, folding tripod, flash unit, spare batteries and compact flash professional cards, plus a piece of plastic sheeting for the bride and groom to sit on, if the grass was wet. It had been a while since she had photographed a wedding, and she felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension as she set off up the hill.
Mandy smiled and waved as she walked in. ‘Go straight up, lovey. They’re expecting you.’
Hattie took the lift up to the Silver Room where Ellie was getting ready. She could hear laughter wafting out of the room as she walked along the corridor, and the door was opened before she had chance to knock, by a pretty dark-haired woman dressed in a wispy peach-satin bridesmaid’s dress that suited her smooth coffee-coloured skin perfectly.
‘You must be Hattie, the photographer? I’m Abiya.’ She opened the door to let her in. ‘And I’m Kate.’ Another woman with cropped fair hair and wearing an identical dress turned to smile. ‘We’re the bridesmaids.’
‘Hello, Hattie.’ Ellie looked at her through the dressing-table mirror where she was sitting applying lipstick. Her shoulder-length, chestnut-brown hair had been swept up into a loose chignon, with wavy tendrils hanging down each side of her face. She was already dressed in her wedding gown, an elegant off-the-shoulder white dress, from what Hattie could see of it. As Ellie leaned forward to apply another coat of lipstick, Hattie took hold of her camera.
‘Hi. Hold that pose!’ She clicked a couple of times, checked the shot, and smiled. ‘That’s a great start. Now, how about one of the two bridesmaids? Maybe one of you brushing the other one’s hair?’
‘I’ll brush Abiya’s hair, there’s not much of mine to do anything with.’ Kate grinned. She picked up the hairbrush and stood behind Abiya, smoothing it gently through her hair. Hattie clicked away. She took photos of the bouquets, of Ellie and the girls laughing together, and then one of Sue, standing in the doorway, looking so elegant in her powder-blue suit and matching hat.
‘Are we ready to go?’ she asked. ‘The registrars are here, and all guests are seated, waiting for you.’
She held out her arm for Ellie to slip her arm through, and they set off. Ellie and her bridesmaids looked so gorgeous and sophisticated, Hattie took several photos of them, wanting the bride and groom to have plenty to choose from.
It was a busy afternoon. The wedding ceremony was followed by photographs outside. Hattie set the tripod up in the hotel grounds and took a close-up of Ellie and Reece with their hands entwined, showing off their wedding rings; the obligatory kiss; and the happy couple in the pagoda with the sun glimmering on the Atlantic Ocean below them – very romantic – as well as photos of Sue, Reece’s parents and group shots of the guests. After the photos, there was a sit-down meal, and Hattie took some photos of the ‘top table’ and of the guests around the room.
Ellie and Reece came over to her when the meal was finished. ‘Thank you so much for filling in at such short notice. Please come and join us at the reception tonight. And this time, leave your camera behind. You’re invited as a guest.’
‘That’s really kind of you, thank you.’ She was tempted to refuse, as she felt a little out of place, but she didn’t want to hurt Ellie’s feelings, and also thought it might be a good bit of networking.
‘Any time after seven,’ Ellie told her.
That gave her time to check through the photos and freshen up. ‘I’ll look forward to it. See you later,’ she said.
She’d been hoping to see Marcus at some point in the afternoon, but hadn’t even caught a glimpse of him. She guessed he’d been too busy in the kitchen, cooking the delicious three-course meal they had all been served. She knew that there was a table buffet tonight, so no doubt he was preparing that too.
She wondered if he’d be at the reception that evening. Sue had stressed that they were all like one big family at Gwel Teg, and they’d invited Hattie to the reception, so would that invitation extend to any of the staff? She hoped so. She was warming to Marcus a little; behind that grumpy, disapproving exterior, she’d caught a couple of glimpses of someone she really would like to get to know a lot better.
‘Hello! Hello!’ Buddy shouted as she walked through the door. She looked over, surprised and pleased to see the parrot hopping about on his perch. ‘Well, you’ve cheered up,’ she said with a smile. ‘Hello to you too.’
She guessed it was Marcus’s visit that morning that had cheered up the cheeky bird. It had cheered up her too, she thought, remembering how comfortable it had been to sit around the table with him, eating breakfast.
I hope he’s at the reception.
She made herself a coffee and sandwich, then sat down at the table and checked through the photos on her camera. She was pleased with them, and knew that by the time she’d downloaded them onto her laptop and edited them, they would look even better.
Then she glanced at the clock and saw that it was gone six. She’d better get ready for the reception.
She looked through the clothes in her wardrobe, wondering what to wear. She wasn’t a girly girl who wore clingy dresses or floaty skirts; she wore jeans, trousers and shorts, mainly. Something Adam had often complained about. She didn’t like dressing up, but she did want to make an effort tonight, just in case Marcus was there. So far, he had only seen her in shorts and her biker leathers – not very feminine – and naked, before you grabbed that tablecloth to wrap yourself in, she reminded herself. An incident she’d prefer to forget!
She frowned as she looked through the clothes, then her eyes rested on a burgundy-satin jumpsuit she’d bought for a Christmas party. With its thin straps, v-neck and slinky wide legs, it was sexy but sophisticated. Even Adam had approved. She took it out of the wardrobe and held it up. Matched with her silver clutch bag and silver strappy sandals, it should certainly attract Marcus’s attention.
She was so ridiculously excited about seeing him again, and in a situation where they could both relax and have a drink together. Maybe even a dance. The thought of Marcus’s arms around her waist, of dancing close to him, sent a shiver down her spine. She brushed it away. She wasn’t remotely interested in having a romantic relationship with him. They were neighbours, so it was only na
tural that she wanted them to get on.
Chapter Eighteen
Marcus scanned the crowded room, his eyes searching for the familiar short, white-blond shaggy bob, his ears listening for the sound of her voice with its endearing lilt. Was she here? He knew that Hattie had been invited to the evening reception, but wondered if she was too tired to attend after her day’s work, or if she felt a bit awkward – after all, she didn’t really know anyone here. He didn’t intend to stay long, it had been a hectic day, with him and Shanise both run off their feet in the kitchen, and he had been tempted to go home and chill in front of the TV with an ice-cold can of beer, but Sue had suggested he bring his clothes with him and use one of the spare hotel rooms to shower and change, so that’s what he’d done. He guessed that Hattie had gone home, though. Would she bother to come back out again?
Just as he thought she had decided not to attend, he heard a familiar laugh and turned his head. She was over in the corner, talking to a suave-looking dark-haired man. He could only see the back of her, but the way that classy jumpsuit clung to her bum made his pulse race. Then, as though she’d sensed him staring at her, she turned around and his pulse galloped when his eyes rested on the way the burgundy silk clung to her breasts and the deep V that led down to them. Hot? She was flaming!
She smiled at him and waved, and he wondered whether to join them but, feeling irrationally jealous that she was getting on so well with another man, he merely waved back and, using all the self-control he could muster, walked over to the bar to get a drink.
‘Good to see you again, Marcus.’
He turned in surprise, not expecting to see anyone he knew there. He recognised the man’s face as someone who had stayed at the hotel last summer and had complimented Marcus on the food, but struggled to remember his name. ‘Hello again. Are you enjoying the wedding?’
‘I certainly am, and as usual, the food was delicious. In fact, my wife –’ he looked over his shoulder as though seeking his wife, then shrugged and turned back – ‘We were wondering if you could do the catering for our silver wedding anniversary. We’d pay the travel expenses and put you up for the weekend, of course. We live in Exeter,’ he added.
This wasn’t the first time Marcus had been approached by one of the hotel guests to provide the food for an event for them, but whilst he enjoyed his job, he didn’t want to spend his spare time cooking as well; he was an artist, not a chef, by heart. ‘Thanks so much, it’s an honour to be asked, but my spare time is pretty well tied up with my painting commissions,’ he said.
The man nodded. ‘I forgot you were an artist too. Shame. You could make a real career out of being a chef, I reckon. Have your own restaurant in no time.’
He didn’t want his own restaurant; he wanted his own art exhibition. Dream on, Marcus. His family certainly thought he was a dreamer, as he was sure did most of his friends, and this man obviously thought that Marcus would be better off spending his time cooking rather than painting, but at least he had a dream. He’d worked hard, built up his reputation over the years, and hopefully the painting he’d just finished for Lady Felicity Thomwell would bring more work his way.
‘It’s kind of you to say so, but that’s not my ambition,’ he said with a polite smile. He picked up his drink and turned around – and nearly bumped into Hattie who was on her way to the bar.
‘Ooops, sorry!’ he apologised as she took a quick step back. God, that jumpsuit looks even more divine close up, and that cute stars-and-moon tattoo at the top of her arm looks really sexy.
‘No worries. The buffet looks fantastic, by the way. I’ve been tempted by the spring rolls and salad, and the carrot cake already.’ She glanced over his shoulder at the guest who was now walking away from the bar with a couple of drinks in his hand. ‘I think you could run a pretty good restaurant, too, but I don’t blame you for preferring to be an artist. Mandy told me that you did that incredible painting of the ship in the storm on the wall in the reception. You’re very talented.’
‘Thank you.’ He shrugged. ‘Most people think I’m an idiot for preferring to try and make it as an artist. Not that I’m expecting to make a living with my art, I just prefer to spend my spare time doing that rather than cooking. Having a job gives me a regular wage coming in, and in my free time I want to paint and surf, not spend even more time in the kitchen.’
‘I know what you mean, that’s why I worked in an insurance office and did photography in my spare time. I didn’t want to be self-employed, I wanted the security of an income, but now, well, I guess I’ll give being self-employed a go while I’m down here doing up Fisherman’s Rest.’ She smiled at him. ‘I’d better grab myself a drink while there’s space at the bar. See you a bit later.’
He was tempted to offer to get her a drink, but Hattie struck him as an independent woman who bought her own drinks. And made her own decisions.
‘And I’d better go and mingle.’ He raised his glass. ‘Have fun.’
Hattie was enjoying herself. Ellie and Reece had made her very welcome, as had their friends. Lucas, the best man and Reece’s best friend, was a scream, charming and amusing. The bridesmaids, Kate, a former flatmate of Ellie’s, and Abiya, an old school friend, were good fun.
Abiya had told her that she had just got engaged. ‘My parents want me to have a big Indian wedding, like my brother Deepa, but Milo and I want a simpler, quieter affair.’ She grimaced. ‘So, they are not very pleased with me at the moment.’
Hattie felt sorry for Abiya, caught between what she wanted and trying to please her parents. ‘That’s a shame, will they come round?’ she asked.
Abiya nodded. ‘Once my mother realises that no amount of pouting and emotional blackmail will change our minds.’ She held her glass delicately, colourful bangles dangling from her wrists as she looked around. ‘I think Ellie and Reece have the right idea, getting married in this gorgeous hotel. We want to do something like this. Have the wedding and reception all in the same place. It’s so much easier.’
Hattie raised her glass ‘A girl after my own heart.’
‘What are you two gossiping about?’ Ellie asked as she joined them, still wearing her wedding dress.
‘Weddings.’ Abiya flashed her a smile and nodded at her dress. ‘You’re not changing, then?’
‘Definitely not. This is the one and only day I’ll wear this dress so I’m making the most of it.’ Ellie turned to Hattie. ‘Thank you again for coming to our rescue by taking the photographs, Hattie. I can’t wait to see them.’
‘They’ll be ready for when you come back from your honeymoon. Then you can choose which ones you want for your album.’
‘That’s perfect, thank you.’
Hattie chatted with them both for a while, then excused herself and went off to get some more of the buffet. Marcus was in front of her, his plate already piled up.
‘Someone’s hungry!’ Hattie remarked.
‘I’m starving! I haven’t had time to eat all day, I’ve been too busy cooking. I haven’t been home at all, I even got showered and changed here.’ He picked up a spring roll and added that to his plate, before asking, ‘How’s Buddy?’
‘He’s getting used to me. He actually said “hello”when I got home earlier. I’m trying to teach him to say “Hello, Hattie” but he just turns his back on me!’ She picked up a triangular salmon sandwich and put it on her plate. ‘I think it cheered him up seeing you this morning. Pop round and see him tomorrow if you want.’ Marcus must miss Buddy, she realised. ‘I think he’s missing Mali and Lou. The cottage was so lively with them there.’
‘I bet you’ll miss them too, they seem a fun pair.’
Hattie grinned. ‘They are, and yes I will miss them, although I have plenty to do, what with getting the cottage ready to put on the market and my photography work.’ She saw his face cloud over and wished that she hadn’t mentioned the cottage sale, it was obvious that Marcus still disapproved.
‘And what will you do when it’s sold?’ he asked.
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She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Who knows? I might go back to Bristol, but my dad is in France, and my mum is in Portugal, I’m jobless and single. I could go anywhere.’ She added a couple more salmon sandwiches, a vol-au-vent and some mixed salad to her plate and went to join Lucas who was waving at her to join his group.
They sat eating, chatting and drinking, then Lucas persuaded her to dance with him and they moved to the dance floor.
Lucas was good looking, and a great mover – far more energetic than her. She could see that he was a party person and liked to be the centre of attention, but he was fun too. She enjoyed his company, and when the music slowed down, happily slid into his arms for a smoochy dance.
‘Do you ever come to London?’ he whispered in her ear. ‘I’d love to meet up with you again.’
She thought about it. It was tempting, she was sure she’d have a good time with Lucas, no strings attached, obviously, but the timing was wrong. She had too much to sort out to be travelling to London.
‘Sorry, but I’m too busy at the moment. I’m in the middle of selling my cottage and setting up a new business,’ she said.
‘If you do, message me,’ he told her. ‘I’ll send you a Facebook friend request.’
She nodded. ‘Thanks.’ She might just take him up on it.
After a couple more dances, one of the other women from the crowd claimed Lucas, and Hattie was about to walk off the dance floor and give her feet a much-needed rest when she heard Marcus say, ‘Fancy a dance?’
He’d unbuttoned the neck of his shirt now and rolled up his sleeves, his long hair free from its ponytail and curling on the top of his shoulders. He looked incredibly sexy, and even though she’d rationed the glasses of wine she’d had, she felt encased in a mellow glow. ‘Sure,’ she agreed.
He put his arms around her and drew her close as they moved to the music, and she nestled into him, savouring the warmth of his body, the tangy smell of his aftershave – the chemistry she had tried so hard to deny between them sizzling. Did he feel it too? she wondered, or was it just her? She looked up, wanting to see the expression on his face, and their eyes met, held. Hazel eyes that seemed flecked with gold under the disco lights. She stared into them, mesmerised. He did feel it, she was sure, and that knowledge made her breath catch in her throat. There was a question in his eyes now and she held her breath as his head lowered, then she threw caution to the wind and raised her lips to his.