Page 105 of The Wedding Forecast

His name is Patrick and he’s really nice, she says.

When I read her message, my heart picks up a little.

A photographer called Patrick.

Could it be? I look up the website. It is.

Patrick from the wedding.

I guess the universe is giving me one last shot.

I look at his contact details for a while, before thinking screw it, and emailing him. A terribly awkward Hi! You probably don’t remember me, we met at a wedding last year… I use far too many exclamation marks and I even write ‘hahaha’ at one point before deleting it. I don’t mention the fact he messaged me and I ghosted him. Let’s pretend that never happened.

He writes back straightaway.

Hey Anna, I remember, and I’d love to do new headshots for you. When are you free?

God, he’s so nice.

I go to his studio later that week. I’m carrying a bag full of clothes because he said to bring lots of outfits. A nice dress, a shirt, a plain T-shirt, a leather jacket, a blazer, a cardigan, jeans, a long skirt I have never worn before in my life. Who am I? I don’t know—there’s ten different versions of me in this bag alone.

Hayley did my eye make-up, because I can never get my eyeliner right. She was practically vibrating with anticipation. ‘It is fate, it is really fate,’ she said, at least ten times, until my eyelid started twitching every time she said it.

I’m more nervous than I should be. But Patrick puts me at ease right away. He’s friendly but professional, and he gets me a bottle of sparkling water that makes me feel like a client in a way that relaxes me. I’m paying him, quite a bit of money, to be here, I remind myself. He’s wearing a slightly baggy button-down shirt, exactly like he was at the wedding. He still has that same sweet, friendly vibe.

‘How have you been?’ he says.

‘Good, you?’

‘Great.’

He sets up the lighting and chats while taking a few prep shots. ‘Give me three words to describe how you want the headshots to look,’ he says.

Damn. That’s a lot of pressure. ‘Um. That depends,’ I say.

‘On what?’

‘What level of photoshopping you can do. Like if I say I want to look edgy, that’s going to be quite a lot of work for you.’ I smile at him so he knows I’m joking. I have the kind of face where people regularly stop me in the street to ask for directions. Even at my coolest age (twenty-two), I never looked edgy.

‘Okay,’ Patrick says, smiling carefully. ‘We could maybe get to edgy.’

‘What about cool?’

‘Cool is very achievable.’

I’m not sure he knows I’m joking. Maybe I’m not. If the man thinks he can make me look edgy and cool, who am I to stop him?

‘What about I make it easier for you. Approachable. Thoughtful. And…interesting. At least give me interesting,’ I say.

‘Interesting is easy.’

‘No. Wait. Do I want approachable? I don’t like being approached.’

‘Warm? Friendly? Bookish?’

‘Bookish is fine.’

‘We can do some mysterious, cool ones too. I have a concrete stairwell that works very well as a backdrop for that look.’