Page 95 of A Wedding in Tuscany

Tuscany

The late afternoon sun is simply beautiful as we round the castle walls and make our way out into the vineyard. ‘Magic hour’ photographers call it and I can see why.

‘I scouted about earlier,’ says Josh, ‘and I think we should head over this way for the first series of shots.’

Cat lays a hand on my arm. ‘First series?’ she says to me quietly. ‘Did we inadvertently hire a Helmut Newton wannabe for our wedding?’

‘Technically, you didn’t hire anyone,’ I tease.

‘I know. And I really appreciate it?Josh, you, Jae, Mum. We couldn’t have done this without you.’

‘I was only teasing,’ I say.

‘I know. But I mean it.’

‘You’re welcome. Now come on.’ We set off, Cat with one hand in mine and the other holding up the fishtail of her dress, carefully picking our way across the uneven ground in our (collectively) seven-hundred-dollars-worth of shoes.

‘How much further?’ Cat calls out to Josh a couple of minutes later.

He surveys the scene. ‘Actually, here’s good.’

‘Thank god,’ she says under her breath as Josh starts fiddling with his camera. Jean-Luc has been bringing up the rear with Alistair, and he snakes an arm around Cat’s waist whispering something in her ear in French. I step away. I caught enough of it to be embarrassed.

Josh lifts his head and catches my eye and sends a wink my way. Soon, the photo shoot begins in earnest with him directing Cat and Jean-Luc into place, then through a series of poses. Meanwhile, Alistair makes short work of the cork in the prosecco bottle and pours for me, Jaelee, and himself. We clink glasses, then sip.

‘We couldn’t have ordered better lighting,’ I say, taking in the wonder of the sky, its sunset hues both familiar and unique. One shot that Josh just took?Cat and Jean-Luc gazing at each other in profile and silhouetted against an orange sky?will no doubt be a favourite for years to come.

‘Oh, didn’t you know? I called ahead,’ says Jaelee.

I chuckle. ‘When I was touring, we used to take credit for everything?tongue in cheek, of course?but, you know, “We hope you’re enjoying the beautiful sunset we ordered”?that sort of thing.’

‘My Mom’s birthday is on New Year’s Eve,’ she says. ‘Every year, I tell her I’ve organised some fireworks for her.’ We laugh.

‘My guess is that Tina believes you,’ says Alistair.

He and Jaelee share a look, his mouth contorting in amusement. To me, she says, ‘My mom’s a little … intense,’ right as Alistair says, ‘narcissistic.’ I look between them and Jaelee feigns outrage, then giggles. Having organised this wedding with her via email and video chats over the past few months, then spending the week with her, this is a side I haven’t really seen before?she’s almost girlish.

Eventually, it’s time for Josh and me to join the bride and groom and Josh hands over his camera to Alistair. I may be a little tipsy as I take my place next to the others, so I take extra care not to trip in my heels or let them sink into the ground. Once we’re all in position, Josh’s firm hand on my waist keeping me from stumbling over a divot or into a hole, Alistair takes several shots. ‘Smile,’ he says again and again?though he needn’t really bother. I’m a couple of proseccos in, two of my favourite people just got married, and we’re in Tuscany! I’m probably grinning like the Joker.

‘Got room for two more?’

‘Daddy!’ Yes, even though Cat is thirty-eight, she still occasionally calls him ‘Daddy’. Okay, I do too.

He and Mum are standing at the edge of the vineyard, Dad with a Peroni in hand and Mum holding a flute half-filled with prosecco. ‘Hey, you two,’ says Josh, ‘perfect timing.’ He looks past them. ‘No Louis and Cécile?’ he asks.

I catch the not-so-surreptitious roll of Cat’s eyes as she walks over to Mum and steals a sip of prosecco. ‘Yeah, no,’ says Dad, ‘it didn’t seem like they were too keen.’

‘That makes two of us,’ murmurs Cat and Mum tuts at her.

‘But it’s time for family photos,’ says Josh. He looks at me helplessly.

‘I will go,’ says Jean-Luc.

‘No, darling, stay. We can get some photographs of you, me, Mum, and Dad,’ says Cat.

‘I’ll go,’ I say. ‘Maybe I can make them change their mind.’

‘Are you sure, Sarah?’ asks Jean-Luc.