Thirteen Weddings (43 page)

‘I’m not completely closed off to the idea,’ I reply. ‘Lachie’s lined up a wedding gig for next summer,’ I reveal with a smile.

‘You two should open up a wedding business,’ she says eagerly. ‘You do the pics, he does the entertainment, quids in!’

I laugh. ‘Maybe one day I’ll look into getting another assistant job, but I just want to settle into life in Sydney and not complicate things.’ I also need to let my heart
recuperate.

‘I think you should get back on the horse pronto,’ she says in her usual straight-talking manner. ‘And bollocks to assisting – Rachel thinks you’re good enough to
run the show. You should get
yourself
an assistant,’ she says firmly. ‘In fact, what about Lachie?’

‘What?’ I pull a face.

‘You could teach him how to take the pictures of the groom and the church, then take over at the reception when he does his bit.’

Her suggestion makes me think more of Alex than Lachie.

‘What?’ Bridget asks, seeing my cogs turning.

‘Alex is the one who’s into photography,’ I say bleakly.

She leans back in her chair and makes an exasperated sound. ‘Enough about Alex,’ she snaps. ‘What did today’s email say?’ she demands to know.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ I reply, not wanting to set her off on another rant. She is
not
happy that Alex continues to email me.

‘I can’t believe, after everything he’s done, he’s still at it!’ she erupts.

‘Leave it, Bridge,’ I say wearily.

‘Seriously!’ She’s not going to leave it. ‘You’re happy with Lachie! What the hell does he think he’s doing, still chasing you? He needs to let you go, let
you get on with your life. He’s done enough damage.’

I sigh.

‘And
you
,’ she starts in an accusatory tone, making me stiffen, ‘need to stop encouraging him.’

‘I’m not encouraging him!’ I’m outraged. ‘I never reply to his emails!’

‘Exactly,’ she says with the satisfaction of someone who feels they’re in the right.

I eye her with trepidation.

‘You’re not telling him to stop contacting you,’ she continues sternly. ‘It’s not fair on Lachie, and even though I think he’s a total arse, it’s not
fair on Alex, either.’ She leans across the table towards me and gently takes my hand. ‘You need to let him go,’ she says imploringly. ‘It’s about time.’

I leave Bridget in a pensive mood. I know she’s right. If Lachie had an ex-girlfriend who was emailing him every day, trying to win him back, I’d go mad.
Lachie’s not even aware of the extent to which Alex still emails me. If he kept something like that from me... Dread surges through me, quickly followed by guilt and finally, resolve. I
huddle in a doorway, out of the rain, and get out my mobile. Without letting myself think about it too much, I dial Alex’s number. It’s pretty late on a Thursday night for him, so I
hope he’ll still be up.

‘Hello?’

My heart clenches at the sound of his sleepy voice, but I force myself to harden up. ‘It’s Bronte.’

‘Bronte!’ He sounds shocked. ‘What are you— Where are you?’

‘Sydney. Alex, you need to stop emailing me,’ I say in as firm a tone as I can muster. ‘I’m with Lachie,’ I continue. ‘I love him. It’s over between
us.’ It never really started in the first place, but the sentiment is true.

There’s silence on the other end of the line, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s there, but then he speaks. ‘I’m sorry. But I don’t believe that’s it. We
can’t be done.’

‘We are.’ I force myself to say the words. ‘You’ll never change my mind.’

I hear him sigh heavily. ‘Okay, Bronte,’ he says softly. ‘If you’re sure that’s what you want.’

‘I am.’

A long pause follows, and then he says, ‘Okay,’ with an air of finality. A lump forms in my throat. ‘I’ll look out for your pictures,’ he says. ‘Maybe
you’ll get to do a royal wedding one day.’

‘Maybe.’ Tears start to roll down my cheeks. I don’t tell him that I’m not doing any weddings at the moment. I’m sure I will start up again soon.

I don’t want to break down on the phone to him. As Bridget said, I need to let him go. It’s about time. ‘I’ve gotta get on,’ I say. ‘Goodbye, Alex.’

I close my eyes and wait for it, and finally it comes: ‘Bye, Bronte.’

I end the call and dig into my bag for a tissue, giving myself a moment in the dark doorway to gather myself together. But by the time my mobile is back in my bag and my heels are clicking along
the pavement, a weight I didn’t know I was carrying lifts from my shoulders.

I brush away the last of my tears and take a deep breath. That was the right thing to do.

I speed through the rest of my day at work and catch a JetCat to Manly, staying inside the cabin to avoid the relentless rainfall. The grey sea is rough as the ferry surges
away from Circular Quay, leaving the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Opera House far behind as we descend on Manly. I join the hordes of commuters stepping off the boat and then set off at a brisk
walk to our apartment near the beach. My legs are wet through by the time I arrive – autumn has well and truly come and I really need a bigger umbrella. It’s a dark day and as I look up
at the two-storey apartment block and our small balcony with a wetter-than-wet wetsuit draped over the railings, I can see that the lights are on inside. Lachie is home. I don’t imagine he
got much work done today on the building site, but I’m pretty sure his new boss Nathan won’t hold it against him. In fact, from the sight of the wetsuit on the balcony, I’m
guessing the pair of them have been surfing again. Nathan is coming for dinner tonight with his wife, Lucy, who I really like. Oddly enough, when I told Lily about them, she said they used to be
her friends, although they haven’t stayed in touch for one reason or another. It’s a small world. She thought it was quite a coincidence.

But I don’t believe in coincidences.

Before I can unlock the door, it opens, and Lachie – my gorgeous, sexy, lovable boyfriend – is standing there with his arms open wide. I laugh and step into them, dropping my
dripping umbrella to the floor. All of my chills are soothed away and replaced with the warmth I always find in his arms.

‘You’re soaked,’ he murmurs into my hair, knocking his bare leg against my drenched one. He’s wearing board shorts – another sure sign that he’s been surfing.
The weather may be bad, but the swell is good, and he doesn’t care if it’s raining. I worry about him out there in the ocean, but he says he’s surfed all his life. There’s
certainly something very sexy about watching him ride the waves. Now I know where he developed his long, lean, muscular body.

‘Let’s get you out of these wet clothes,’ he murmurs in my ear.

I don’t argue with him. ‘How much time do we have before Nathan and Lucy arrive?’ I ask as he swiftly unbuttons my black shirt. I pull his orange surfer T-shirt over his head
and murmur my appreciation as I run my hands over his lovely chest.

‘Just enough,’ he replies, kissing me urgently as he moves us to the bedroom. ‘I don’t know about Bridgie, though,’ he says.

‘Forgot about her.’ I giggle, sidestepping her suitcase by the sofa bed, which still has to be returned to its sofa position before our guests arrive. ‘I thought she’d be
here?’

‘She wanted to do some writing at a coffee shop,’ he tells me between kisses, hurriedly unbuttoning my jeans and hooking his thumbs into the rear to slide them down along with my
knickers.

‘She could be back any minute,’ I point out, laughing as he pushes me onto the bed and yanks off my rain-soaked clothes.

‘We’d better make it quick, then,’ he says with a mischievous grin as he steps out of his board shorts.

Mmm, now
that
is a view. He climbs onto the bed and hovers over me, his light blue eyes twinkling moments before he claims my mouth with his lips as his body claims the rest of me. I love
the feeling of this warm, kind, soulful man.

I still don’t believe in coincidences. And I don’t believe in God. I’m not sure if I believe in marriage – it’s certainly not for everyone, but for some it works.
As for love, well, I definitely believe in love. My heart is full of it.

I always start my acknowledgements by thanking my readers first, and this book is no exception. But before I get onto telling you how brilliant you are, I wanted to let you
know that this year I’m launching
The Hidden Paige
, a free book club that all of my readers can join to receive exclusive extra chapters (
that
scene told from
this
character’s point of view), short stories (want to know what so-and-so is up to these days?) and added insight into your favourite characters. So please visit
www.paigetoon.com
and sign up immediately so you don’t miss out.

Now for the thanks… THANK YOU for being truly the best readers in the world, for getting so swept up in my stories and letting me know what you think with your online reviews and messages
on Twitter and Facebook. Please keep them coming @PaigeToonAuthor and www.facebook.com/PaigeToonAuthor – they really do mean the
world to me.

Thank you also to the lovely readers who sent me their wedding stories at my request. All of my characters are fictional, but you might spot the odd familiar scenario.

Heartfelt thanks to my editor, Suzanne Baboneau, who always knows exactly what my books need – and don’t need. I feel so safe in your hands. Thank you also to the entire team at
Simon & Schuster, but in particular, Emma Capron, Florence Partridge, Alice Murphy-Pyle, Ally Grant, Nico Poilblanc, Gill Richardson, Sara Jade-Virtue, Sarah Birdsey, Jo Dickinson, Angie
Willocks, Helen Pisano, Leena Lane, and of course, Melissa Four for the beautiful cover design.

And thanks to my brand new whizz-bang agents, Lizzy Kremer and Veronique Baxter from David Higham (handling my Adult and YA fiction respectively). Lizzy, our brainstorming sessions and your
edits were invaluable. Can’t wait to get cracking on the next one!

Now for a little story... About a year ago, a lovely lady called Lina Orsino won a charity auction to have a character named after her in my next book. She didn’t know it at the time, but
my next book was set to be about a wedding photographer – and Lina herself is a wedding photographer. How much of a coincidence is
that
? Lina gave me so much help with this book and it
honestly would have been a shadow of itself without her. She even arranged for me to come along to one of her weddings to watch Tom (her partner – and now her fiancé) and her in
action. (BIG thanks to the bride and groom, Ellie and James, for agreeing to let me gate-crash!) If you’d like to see the beautiful pictures that inspired some of the weddings in my book,
check out www.linaandtom.com. Thank you so much, Lina.

Huge thanks also to my very own bridesmaid Hannah Waddington, who is not only a jaw-droppingly brilliant wedding photographer herself (visit www.bluebirdweddingphotography.co.uk for the evidence), but is also the Picture Editor at
Brides
magazine. Her help both with wedding
photography and life on the picture desk was priceless.

I used to work at
Heat
magazine as reviews editor, and while Bronte’s publication is certainly inspired by my time there, all of the characters are truly and honestly complete
figments of my imagination – with the exception of one. The editor, Simon, is inspired just a little bit by my former boss, Mark Frith. In fact, Mark actually put quite a few words into
Simon’s mouth because I kept ringing and asking him, ‘How would YOU say this?’ So, thank you Mark. It’s been years since we worked together but it’s heart-warming to
know that I can still depend on you. It means a great deal.

Thank you to my extremely talented musician uncle, Peter Brown, for talking me through Bronte playing a pipe organ – I can’t actually believe you can do that! And thanks also to his
partner Gwennie Phillips, who rushed past me in the church at my own wedding, exclaiming, ‘Jesus Christ, we’re late!’ to which our fantastic vicar Mark Oakley responded, ‘Is
he here
?
That’s a good sign…’ I couldn’t resist including the exchange.

Thank you to my oldest friends from my childhood in Australia: Naomi Dean, Jane Hampton and Bridie Tonkin who all took the time to read an early draft of this book and helped me make the Aussies
sound more like Aussies. I’m sorry I’ve become so Anglicised, ha ha. Extra thanks to Bridie (my matron of honour, no less) for helping me decide where to set Bronte’s hometown and
taking me on a tour there.

Thank you to Katharine and Jon Park for the brilliant holiday in San Sebastian which inspired a chapter of this book – whoa, that sangria! And huge thanks to my good friend Katherine Reid
for helping to proofread this book. Any mistakes are yours. (Just kidding!!) Thanks also to Dr Clodagh Lowry for her help with my Alzheimers questions.

I’m enormously grateful as always to my parents Jen and Vern Schuppan and my parents-in-law Ian and Helga Toon. It was a tricky year with two and a half books to write and I would have
struggled even more without your help and support. It’s always appreciated.

Finally, thank you to my adorable little family of Toons: my children, Indy and Idha, and Greg, my husband of eleven years, who has helped my career in countless ways since
Lucy in the
Sky.
I don’t know what I’d do without you. So frankly, you’re stuck with me.

The Longest Holiday

by

Paige Toon

Missed Paige’s last book?

Read the first chapter here...

Available now in paperback and eBook

He’s smiling down at me with tears in his eyes as I say my solemn vow:

‘
I, Laura Rose Smythson, take thee, Matthew Christopher Perry, to be my lawful wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward . . .
’

I thought I would never feel like this about anyone ever again. Not after Will, my first love . . . Not after the heartbreak and the loss and the trying to pick myself back up again . . . Then I
met Matthew, and I know that he has my heart forever: my perfect, gorgeous, adoring Matthew.

And then I wake up. And I remember that he’s not perfect. He’s so far from perfect that my heart could surely collapse from the pain that engulfs me.