This is her chance. This is it, right here. She looks up and sees the cameraman. The large camera is perched on his shoulder and it looks heavy. She feels bad that she’s making him wait. But he doesn’t look annoyed, he actually gives her a bit of a smile as though to say no rush, take your time. She wonders how he feels about working on a show like this. She doesn’t know if she could handle working on a show like this. She starts to think about him framing her in a shot. It feels weird being on the other side of the camera. She likes being where he is—it’s comfortable over there. Over here she feels like there’s no air and her stomach’s swirling as though she’s just been on a rollercoaster. She’s used to photographing nervous brides and awkward grooms, who find it impossibly hard to be natural in front of the camera. She knows what to say to them, but she can’t remember a single phrase she uses.

‘He’s hideously good-looking,’ the camera guy jokes, nodding down the pathway to where the suitor waits. ‘But you’re probably not into that kind of thing, more of a personality kind of girl …?’ He pauses before adding, ‘I’ve got a good personality.’

It’s enough to make her laugh and he seems pleased by this.

‘What’s his personality like?’

He screws up his face. ‘Awful. He’s one of those nice, sensitive guys that make the rest of the male race look like lazy, rude slobs.’

‘And he’s good-looking?’ She smiles.

‘I know, some guys have all the luck.’ He shakes his head.

She notices she’s breathing normally again, that her heart isn’t in her throat anymore. He settled her, he used one of his techniques to calm her down and it worked. She tilts her head and smiles. ‘Thank you.’

He shrugs like there was nothing to it.

She looks to Mel. ‘Okay, I think I’m ready.’

As soon as she’s out of the limo and waiting for her cue to walk she wonders how on earth she just thought she was ready to do this. Now she just wants to stay here and talk to the cameraman.

Mel nods at her. ‘We’re rolling.’

Looking down the path, which is glowing with candles and fairy lights, feels as tough as preparing to walk the plank over shark-infested waters. Her feet won’t move.

‘I reckon he’s a nine out of ten,’ the camera guy says in a low whisper. ‘Tell me what you think …’