I am saved by a knock on the door and James’s impatient voice.

“Is Ava ready? There are clouds on the horizon, but the light is good right now. We should make a start.”

“Yes,” I call gratefully. “I am.”

He has his camera around his neck and a small black bag hanging over one shoulder to bounce at his hip.

Mum and the others have followed us outside.

“You don’t all have to come, do you?” I ask, suddenly shy. The thought of posing with all of them watching is unappealing.

“I don’t,” Nadia says. “The photos are James’s business. I’ll take care of the words.” She turns to Ruth. “I’ll need to see the”—her shoulders give a light shudder—“barn, please.”

“Of course. I’ll show you around.” Ruth has composed herself again. “And afterwards we’ll go inside for afternoon tea. I’ve baked scones and whipped up some cream, and we have a drawer full of the largest range of herbal teas in the district. Some of which we make ourselves. My echinacea and lemon is particularly delicious. Good for your health too.”

“Do you have coffee?” Amanda asks. “I don’t drink things I can’t pronounce.”

“Philistine.” Mum sighs.

Amanda shrugs. “Can’t pronounce that either.”

“There aren’t any goats in the barn, are there?” Sophie asks.

“Don’t be silly, of course not,” Ruth answers. “Can’t have wedding guests treading in poo all the time, now can we?”

“Why is it called Marmalade Farm?” Kelly asks. “Do you make your own marmalade here too?”

“No, we don’t. I can understand why you’d think that’s the reason—everyone does. But it’s not.” Ruth starts walking toward the path that leads up the lawn to the barn and the others follow. “It’s quite a funny story, actually.”

“Is it long?” Amanda mutters, trailing after them and rolling her eyes at me. “I’m hungry.”

“I’m just going to take you back to the field I saw as we were coming up the driveway, for a few shots,” James says once they are gone. “If that’s OK?”

I nod, feeling absurd standing in front of him in full bridal dress and makeup.

Mum’s eagle ears hear him and she stops and turns, frowning.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says. “The driveway is about two kilometers long. That’s too far for Ava to walk.”

“I wasn’t planning on making her walk. We’ll go in my car.”

“I guess that will be OK. I’ll come with you.” She starts back down the path.

“No,” I say too loudly and too quickly. They both look at me, surprised. “Sorry. I just think you should stay here with the others, Mum. You did say you couldn’t wait to see inside the barn.”

“I can see it later. You might need help.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want you wearing yourself out.”

“I won’t. Besides, what are you going to do, carry me?”

“If I have to.” She has her determined face on.

I step forward to give her a hug and speak softly in her ear.