A Christmas Wedding

Joe, not Joseph, I note.

He’s a lot taller than I thought he’d be, with short, dark hair and dark-brown eyes. He’s wearing casual grey cargo pants and a faded black T-shirt, but his biceps protrude from under his sleeves and I don’t need to have seen his films to know how defined his abs are under that top.

I try to still my beating heart.

Don’t be stupid, Bronte, they’re just people.

‘And who are you?’ I ask in a sweet voice, bending to put my kitbag on the floor.

‘This is Becca,’ Joe says fondly, taking his seat again. ‘Okay, okay, it’s coming,’ he chides his daughter gently, spooning another mouthful of soggy Weetabix into her waiting mouth.

I know her name, of course. And I know that she’s seven months old. But at that moment, I wish I didn’t. I wish this were just an ordinary wedding between two ordinary people. I don’t want to ask questions that I already know the answers to, and I genuinely wish that I didn’t already know the answers.

‘You want another coffee, Joe?’ Alice interrupts, filling up the kettle and putting it on the Aga.

Don’t they have a cook to do this sort of thing?

At that moment, a small boy wanders sleepily into the room, dressed in Spider-Man PJs. Alice scoops him up.

‘Good morning, precious,’ she says softly, kissing him on his nose. The child rubs at his eyes and yawns.

Unsure if it’s the right thing to do, but willing to take the risk, I quickly unzip my kitbag, getting out my camera and the lens I use to take portraits.

‘Is this okay?’ I ask Joe in a whisper.

‘Go for it,’ he replies.

I snap off a couple of candid shots so I don’t miss the moment, then put my camera down and smile at Jack, Joe and Alice’s son.

‘All right, little man?’ Joe asks him. ‘You slept well.’

Jack yawns again and buries his face against Alice’s neck.

‘Better than me,’ Joe adds with a wry smile at his fiancée.

Alice smiles and taps her son on his back. ‘This is Bronte,’ she says. Jack lifts his head to look at me with his soulful dark eyes. ‘She’s taking some pictures of Mummy and Daddy’s wedding day.’

‘Hi,’ he says in a cute, groggy voice. What a sweetheart.

Rachel arrives soon afterwards and the atmosphere remains laidback and lovely. Misha has gone straight to the country house where Alice’s parents and the couple’s close friends are getting ready. I really liked Misha when I met her earlier this week – we’ve never worked together before – but she has an easy-going, likeable nature, and apparently she and Alice have already bonded over morning-sickness woes.

It soon becomes clear that the Strikes don’t have any staff, at least not in their home. There’s a bodyguard next door who keeps an eye on security and who can be here at a moment’s notice if necessary, but on the whole the family appear to strive to have as normal a life as possible.

By the time the morning shoot is finished, I have a little bit of a crush on all four of them.

Just as we’re leaving the house, I notice a picture of Alice and Joe on the hallstand. Alice is holding a baby koala, and Joe has his hand placed protectively on his fiancée’s pregnant belly. I know Lily’s handiwork when I see it and make a mental note to tell my friend that they still hold dear the shot that she took – on their request, as it turned out, at the conservation park in the Adelaide Hills, where she works. The couple gave their permission for Lily to sell the pictures she took of them, hoping it might help her get established – she’s also a keen photographer.

We go by hired limousine to the wedding venue a few miles away. I travel with the Strikes, while Rachel follows in her car. I sit on one of the seats facing backwards and take some candid shots of the four of them, lined up.

Alice looks absolutely stunning in a simple, white gown with matching jacket and diamanté-studded high heels. Her hair has been styled up in an intricate but loose bun, with a few tendrils escaping to frame her face, and there are white orchids adorning her dark locks, which match the posy she’ll carry up the aisle. The make-up artist has somehow managed to make the green in her stunning almond-shaped eyes look even more luminescent.

As for Joe, he’s out-of-this-world gorgeous in a well-fitted black suit and cherry-red tie. He can’t take his eyes off his wife-to-be.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he murmurs for the third time since we got in the car.

She smiles back at him. ‘You don’t look so bad yourself,’ she whispers, casting me a slightly self-conscious look and giggling when I smirk at her.

Joe flashes me a grin.

I like this family so much. I wish we could be friends, I muse with an inward giggle at myself. I know damn well that everyone who meets them has that thought.

Alice is sitting between her two children, holding their hands. I put the camera back up to my eye and snap a close-up shot of Becca’s tiny hand, entirely curled around her mother’s forefinger.

Just because they’re travelling to the venue together, it doesn’t mean that we missed out on the shot of Joe and Alice seeing each other in their wedding outfits for the very first time. Rachel and I captured the moment when Alice came down the stairs and Joe was standing at the bottom. His chest expanded visibly and he looked utterly lost for a moment, completely blown away. Then his eyes filled with tears and he stepped forward to take Alice in his arms, cradling her tenderly.

Boy, does he love her.

Although part of me felt uncomfortable witnessing such a private moment, I know that, just as with Bridget and Charlie and all of the other brides and grooms we’ve photographed, these are two pictures that they’ll treasure forever.

As celebrity weddings go, Alice and Joe’s is massively understated. The day is clearly a celebration of love between two people among only their very dearest friends and family.

It was the same for Bridget and Charlie.

And, if I ever wanted to get married, it’s how I’d do it, too.

But I don’t believe in marriage.

I doubt Alex does, either, after what happened to him, first time around. I’m absolutely shattered by the time I get back to our hotel, but, as soon as Alex takes me in his arms, I feel better.

‘You want something from the minibar? Tell me about it?’ he asks.

‘In the morning,’ I reply. ‘Right now I just want to go to bed.’

‘To sleep?’ He raises a dark eyebrow.

‘Are you mad? I need to de-stress.’

He chuckles and starts to unbutton my fitted black shirt with his deft, skilful fingers.

We had to wear a uniform today so the guests knew who we were.

I turn my attention to his own shirt, sliding my hands inside and standing up on my tiptoes to kiss his lips. Very soon we’re falling naked onto the bed, his warm, solid body colliding with mine. He rolls over, pulling me on top of him.

‘Did you buy condoms?’ I ask. We only had one left last night; Alex said he’d get more today.

His face falls. ‘Shit, I totally forgot.’

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