When We Were Young

"More bubbly, anyone?" the bride's mother, Helen, said, popping a cork before receiving an answer.

"Of course," the third bride's maid, Ash, said with a smile. "Would you like some more?"

For a moment Erin didn't realise the woman was talking to her. She smiled, gesturing towards her hardly-touched glass behind the vase of lilies on side-table and said, "No thanks, I'm not much of a drinker and I shouldn't while I work."

"Hell, I'm working too, but I'll have another," the hairdresser said with a laugh.

The hairdressers always do, Erin thought, snapping off several more photographs as glasses were topped up and clinked together. Erin kept to the side, generally out of everyone's way, taking a photo here and there, depending on the light and position of her subjects. She half-followed the conversation, not particularly interested, because she'd heard similar conversations at so many pre-wedding photo-shoots.

"So, Zoe," Lucinda said with a cheeky smile, "You're a free agent now and you have the pick of the boys tonight. Who's gonna be your lucky guy?"

"I've bagsed Kyle," Ash said before Zoe could answer, and there was more laughter, Ash's face flushing like a beetroot.

"Of course you have," Genevieve laughed. "FYI, hot tip for you, Zo-Zo, Grant's mate Charles who he worked with when he lived in London has only RSVP'd for himself, so he's not bringing a plus-two. I think you've met him once?"

"Oh, really?" Zoe said, her eyes lighting up and a smile forming on her lips. "If it's the guy I'm thinking of, I have met him, but isn't he married?"

Erin took a photo of Genevieve flashing a cheeky smile, the bride saying, "He separated from his wife about two years ago, and they finalised their divorced at the beginning of the year. So he's available, and I also know for a fact he's hired a room in this very hotel for the night."

Ash placed her glass of champagne on the side table next to the lilies and tut-tutted. "Isn't it bad luck to talk about things like divorce at a wedding?"

Helen chuckled, her voice cheeky. "Not for me, because I've already been through one. I spoke to that wonderful young man at Grant's birthday too and Zoe will have to fight me for his attention tonight!"

"Mum!" Genevieve said, with the tone and inflection a teenager might have when embarrassed by a parent, but she was grinning. "Don't you dare do anything to embarrass me at my wedding! No shagging anyone under the age of forty-five, unless it's someone else we hardly know, like Grant's long lost uncle, if he even has one."

"Yeah, Mum," Lucinda, laughed, "We don't want a repeat of my wedding reception, do we?"

"So many restrictions," Helen chuckled, thrusting her chest out and running her hands down her dress, accentuating her breasts. "I think it might be Charles' lucky night. I'll just have to get a few drinks into him first if I'm going to compete with Zoe."

"Charles doesn't drink," Genevieve said.

Zoe winked at Helen. "I wouldn't be able to compete with you anyway."

The women laughed, because though Helen was an attractive woman in her mid-to-late fifties, even a blind person would see Zoe was naturally stunning, and all were aware that when she walked into a room, men and women's heads turned. Even Erin, who'd only met Zoe a few hours previously, assumed the statuesque bride's maid might even be a model, given the how the woman appeared to instinctively pose each time the camera was on her, and she predicted all the men, except perhaps the groom, would likely be watching stunning Zoe tonight.

Erin smiled and took several photos of the happy, laughing women. They were making this photoshoot easy for her, which wasn't always the way with weddings. The conversation soon changed and the hairdresser began pinning Genevieve's curls upon her head. Eventually the bridal party moved to the hotel's gardens for more photographs, Genevieve gorgeous in her beautiful white strapless dress and her bride's maids lovely in lavender.

The bridal party climbed into the immaculately reconditioned open horse-drawn carriage, pulled by a giant and equally immaculate Clydesdale draught horse. The coachman looked resplendent in a suit and top-hat, and wore a neatly trimmed white beard upon his face. Erin snapped several more photographs before waving to the man, signalling she was about to head down the road to the beachside park where the wedding ceremony would be conducted.

For the umpteenth time Erin noted someone was paying big money for this wedding, probably the groom since he worked in finance or something similar, and she jumped in her tiny Toyota Yaris, which she'd parked nearby. The drive was only a kilometre, and it was critical to beat the bridal party to the wedding ceremony, to capture the arrival of the procession.

She parked and quickly glanced to the wedding guests standing nearby in the park, looking for her young assistant, Rhiannon, who was taking the pre-ceremony photos. Rhiannon was there, right where she should be, giving a thumbs up, to which Erin returned.

With one Nikon in her hands and one over her shoulder, she photographed the approaching horse-drawn carriage, the mid-afternoon sun lighting up the horse's lovely brown coat and contrasting white feathering around its lower legs, and drawing out the carriage's rich dark-red timbers too. The coachman pulled up to the curb, hopped off and helped the women step down from the carriage, and while Erin snapped off many more photos, she heard collective oohs and aahs from the guests, impressed with the bride's mode of transport to her wedding. And of course impressed with the beautiful bride.

Helen took Genevieve's arm to walk her down the aisle, and Erin quickly glanced back at Rhiannon to ensure she was in position, noting she was. She swapped to her second DSLR with the longer lens, enabling her to stand back at a discrete distance, photographing the bridal party while they walked between the guests, slowly making their way to the front where Grant, the groom, waited with a big smile on his face. He wore a dark suit and his groomsmen smiled too, handsome in grey.

It was warm, but not too humid this early in September, however, everyone was sweating lightly, but not terribly so, a slight cooling sea breeze wafting through. Erin panned the camera between the smiling groom and happy-teary bride as she approached, snapping away. The mid-afternoon sun was glary and harsh, but she was experienced and knew the light would play well with the bride's blond hair. She was pleased to note Rhiannon moving to the rear, taking photos from another angle with the sun behind her.

The bride's young niece was the flower-girl, walking in front of the procession, proudly holding a bouquet of red and white roses, head held high as if this was the most important day of her own life, and Erin knelt and captured the girl perfectly in frame through a gap between two guests, pressing the shutter release. She panned up to the three bride's maids, snapping another shot, then stood and sharply captured the bride and her mother, aperture open to slightly blur the guests.

A face appeared behind the bride as she walked by, slightly out of focus, something familiar catching Erin's eye, a smile as the women passed him, short-cut curly brown hair and standing-out-from-the-crowd azure blue eyes, sharp now as she adjusted the lens focus ring.

Erin's heart skipped a beat, and she whispered, "Could it be?"

He was older and stylish, but his smile and eyes matched, and he glanced directly down the barrel of her lens, and she was almost sure. He looked away, head turning to follow the bridal procession, and his profile was a perfect match, with aquiline nose, sharp chin and straight jaw, a million memories from long ago lighting up from where they'd lay dormant in the back of Erin's mind.

Another memory joined the last dots, a snippet from a very recent conversation she'd been privy to, intruding her thoughts...Grant's work-mate Charles...

The man was unmistakably Charlie.

Ever the consummate professional, Erin repositioned, moving in and panning back to the bride and groom, focusing on them, capturing the moment they joined hands, smiling lovingly at one another, gazing deeply into each other's eyes, living the fairy tale.

~0~

Shit, shit, shit, shit!

Charlie stood in a corner of the hotel's garden with a bottle of sparkling water in his hand and he was chatting with the hyper-attractive Zoe, who smiled and laughed and flirted. But Charlie was no longer paying Zoe attention, his eyes locking with Erin's and face lighting up with recognition. "Erin! I knew it was you the moment I saw you earlier."

"Hello, Charlie," Erin said, giving him a professional smile. "How about I take a photo of you and your lovely friend?"

"Oh, um, sure," he said, and Zoe beamed, not hesitating to reach her arm around Charlie's waist and raised her glass, and he reciprocated with an arm around Zoe.

Erin raised the camera, focused, held her breath to steady her hand, despite her racing heart, and took the photo, then automatically checked the shot on the camera's rear screen. Her photographer's mind knew the shot was good before she'd even checked, and these two definitely made a beautiful couple. She looked up again and smiled, saying, "Perfect."

Looks like Charlie's gonna be your lucky guy, Zoe. I hope he's worth it.

"You know each other?" Zoe asked, confident and easy, completely unthreatened by Erin.

"We go way back," Erin said, smiling but wanting to be elsewhere. "Went to school together."

"Actually," Charlie said, and an uncomfortable feeling rose in Erin, who shook her head before she even realised. Charlie must have read her face, because he didn't continue.

Zoe smiled, waiting patiently for Charlie to finish his sentence. "Actually...?"

"Actually, we've known each other since Primary School but haven't seen each other since we were twenty. Wow, it's so great to see you, Erin."

"You too, Charlie. I last heard you'd moved to London."

"I did, for eight years, then moved back to Brisbane."

"I love London, you were so lucky to live there," Zoe said, seemingly oblivious to the awkwardness between Charlie and Erin. She smiled sweetly, holding up her now empty glass. "I need a top up, but you two should probably catch up! I'll see you in a bit, Charles."

Please don't go, Erin thought, not wanting to be alone with Charlie. Wishing her face wasn't burning under Charlie's gaze and smile.

"Wow," Charlie said. "I couldn't believe it was you when I saw you flitting about the wedding ceremony with your cameras. You've hardly changed."

"Everyone says that," she said, then nodded to his bottle of boutique soda water. "You've changed a bit."

"Let's hope so. Older and hopefully wiser. Hey, it really is great to see you, Erin. Like, really, really great."

"Yeah, thanks, it was a surprise to see you too. I'm glad you're doing well."

He gestured towards the camera in her hands, and the one over her shoulder. "I'm so happy to see you followed your passion."

"Thanks," she said, feeling slightly awkward, despite Charlie's friendly manner. "I've worked hard building my business up over the years."

"I saw the label on your camera bags, Sweet Pea Photography. Very nice. I'll check your website out."

She smiled again, feeling self-conscious, and changed the subject to the first thing crossing her mind. "I've hung out with the bridal party all day, and Zoe's truly lovely."

Immediately she mentally kicked herself, Shit, why did I say that?

Charlie smiled. "Oh, yeah, Zoe's beautiful, but we were just chatting."

"Sure, just chatting, eh."

Charlie gave her something between a frown and a confused smile, and immediately she felt guilty, realising she was being silly, wanting to move away from him and get back to photographing the reception.

"Sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have said that. It's like a habit from the old days."

He was smiling genuinely again. "It's okay, we can't ignore the fact we have history."

"We do," was all she trusted herself to say. "Hey, I have to photograph people, but I guess I'll see you around?"

"Yeah, of course. Don't be a stranger."

"You neither."

She gave him an awkward parting smile and he smiled back, and after a moment longer she turned towards the reception hall.

Shit, shit, shit, shit!

~0~

Meals, toasts and speeches came and went, then the bride threw her bouquet into the crowd of women. Two dozen or so hands went up, and Zoe, who was one of the tallest women in the room, plucked the flowers from the air. Erin suspected it was the bride's intention, and she captured the entire sequence of events with multiple high-speed shots; from the throw to the look of surprise then glee on the bride's maid's face.

Everyone cheered and Zoe looked completely chuffed, and she turned, and Erin noticed the woman was looking in the direction of Charlie, whose company she'd sought throughout the evening. He was clapping, but rather than looking towards Zoe, he was looking in Erin's direction.

She viewed him through the lens of her camera, noting his shortly-cropped curly hair, his smile, tallish and still skinny, with a hint of ropey muscle pushing at his shirt, but perhaps he'd filled out a little bit over the fifteen years since she'd last seen him, or maybe her memory was playing tricks on her. She couldn't help but think he was still handsome, the blue suit jacket that earlier complimented his eyes was off now, his neat white dress-shirt and red tie immaculate. Charlie looked dapper in a way she'd never seen before, except maybe at their High School formal. She took his photo, hiding behind her camera and moved on, working the room.

There was a cheer because the bride and groom stood in front of the crowd, where the groom slowly began lifting the bride's dress to reveal a white lacy garter upon her long-legged thigh. The men began cat-calling and whistling, and one man was making stripper music sounds, "Da na na na na na," while Grant began pulling the garter down Genevieve's leg, and he was grinning at his wife, who pointed her toe, bending her knee theatrically, giggling, their eye's sparkling.

Erin smiled, because she loved the way the newlyweds were thoroughly enjoying themselves, smiling and laughing and having fun. The groom teased the crowd, tantalisingly caressing the length of his wife's leg, men and women cheering and whistling ever louder, before removing the garter over her foot, finally holding it aloft to the crowd. The men moved in like seagulls scrambling for an offered chip, and Erin took several photos of the whole performance.

This was tame compared to some weddings she'd attended, and when Grant tossed the garter, Erin captured its short flight to the men, who tore into it like animals, joined by a few women, several people going down in the scrum with laughter and jovial shouts, and one man rose from the floor to proudly hold the lace aloft. They congratulated him with slaps on the back and more laughter, mostly for not spilling a drop of his beer in the process.

Erin looked around for Charlie, finding him casually standing on the opposite side of the room, next to another man, both watching the antics and laughing without joining in, and she held-off taking a photo, knowing the light was not so great from this angle, realising her flash would unlikely reach the distance.

The groom's brother, who was the reception MC, called for everyone to make room for the bride and groom, and everyone was cheering and applauding as Grant and Genevieve took to the dance floor.

"The new Mr and Mrs Lambert will be sharing the first dance of the evening. I believe the bride has chosen a song by Taylor Swift, and I want it known if it were up to me the first dance would be to Iron Maiden's Run to the Hills...but nah, I'm kidding, Genevieve's perfect for you little bro, truly, and we love you Genie and we welcome you to our family. But seriously, Taylor Swift, come on, please!"

He said it in jest, and there was laughter and more applause. The brother nodded to the young DJ sitting with a laptop connected to the stereo system, and the speakers were soon playing Taylor Swift's Love Story. The newlyweds began dancing closely, smiling lovingly at each other, fairy tale perfect, and guests clapped and cheered and smiled.

Erin watched them through her lens, realising for the first time how Genevieve looked very much like Taylor Swift in the song's video clip, with her blond hair piled up in curls and wearing a similar dress. She pressed the shutter release, capturing their love.

The first dance ended with the crowd applauding, then the distinctive instrumental brass and beat intro hook from Beyoncé's Crazy in Love began playing, and bride gestured to her guests to join her and her new husband on the floor, resulting in more cheers and many guests taking up the offer. The dancers were mostly women, bodies gyrating and shaking everywhere, while many men hung back.

Erin smiled when she saw Helen drag Charlie onto the dance floor. He laughed, appeared reluctant, but then indulged the bride's mother. He danced, he always could, shaking his hips, his arms up in the air, hamming it up, and Erin couldn't help but watch, chuckling to herself.

Gosh, even mucking around he's the best dancer out there, she thought.

She felt herself grooving to the music as she moved around the edges, shaking her hips and only stopping to take photos. The gorgeous Zoe was dancing with Genevieve, both women laughing at the bride's mother dancing with Charlie, who was burning up the dance floor like no one else, strutting and popping, all eyes in the room on him. People were cheering and whooping, clapping and whistling, and laughing, some filming him on their mobile phones, making their little movies, loving the way Charlie moved.

Erin chuckled and took their photo and moved away to the side, finding Rhiannon packing the umbrella reflectors with their stands.

"It's all downhill from here," she said to her assistant.

"This was a good one," Rhiannon replied, looking up at the rowdy hijinks, watching Charlie on the dance floor, everyone merry from the drinking and music and joy in the air. The photography contract ended at 8:30 p.m., and they'd run fifteen minutes over, no big deal.

Erin packed her cameras, and another song came on, and she identified it as Florence + The Machine's Dog Days Are Over, a song she used to listen to a fair bit. She helped Rhiannon take most of the gear out to the car, and when they were packed she said to her assistant, "I'll go back in and get the last bit of kit, and then we're done."

Rhiannon nodded and said, "Yeah, I need to go to the bathroom before we leave. I'll be back in a moment."

When Erin returned, she hefted her last camera bag to her shoulder, then looked to the bridal party. The song ended and a new one began; a slower song, Adele's When We Were Young, and several people on the dance floor, mostly the women in the bridal party, began singing along.

Several women linked arms and swayed together, and Erin looked for Charlie, finding him off to the side of the dance floor, standing alone, removing his tie, light shining softly on his face. Too perfect to let the opportunity go.

She found herself mouthing the words to the song, pulling her Nikon with the longer zoom-lens from its bag, lifting it to her eye, taking a breath and steadying herself, and Charlie looked in her direction, noticing her lens on him from across the room. He smiled and waved, and she pressed the shutter release.

Erin lowered her camera and a tap on her shoulder made her jump, and she turned to see Rhiannon, who asked, "I'm ready...hey, are you okay?"