Chapter 5
Rhys turned his old Ford for Cardiff without thought.
He’d been working so much at the Admiral, it made sense to head for home as soon as he had two days off to spend time with Mam while he could.
He had some equipment to buy now he’d agreed to photograph another wedding.
He still wasn’t entirely sure how that had happened.
He’d been right over the past year to stay as far away from Ginny Weller as possible. She was a force of nature.
He’d always found that studying something through a camera lens was like touching it, feeling it – becoming it, in a way.
A great photo was one where he could almost taste the shadows and the light, the elements of contrast and cohesion that made his work art.
The prospect of capturing the emotion of a wedding made him feel raw already.
Staying apart from others had saved his mental health all these years.
He belonged out among the rocks and the birds and with the people who made themselves part of that landscape.
He didn’t belong at a wedding party. That was Ginny’s natural habitat, with her open heart.
They needed different air, which must be why it was so difficult to be in a room with her.
Arriving at his mother’s terraced house on the outskirts of Barry, he chided himself for being dramatic as he parked, then strode up the drive. Luckily, she was home.
Lesley Bowen always had a beaming smile for her son, and a powerful hug, even though he’d towered over her since he was thirteen years old.
Although he was used to it now, Rhys never stopped expecting he’d recognise her.
But there was a clear disconnect between his cherished memories of Mam and the woman wrapping her arms around him, who felt right and smelled right, but her face didn’t compute.
In the year after the accident, he’d hated seeing her.
Everyone had felt so wrong to him, when he was the one who’d changed.
He could tell in the slightly desperate cling of her hands and the occasional tightness he detected in her lips that she’d never quite recovered from seeing her son recoil from her.
It had always been just the two of them, living in the Valleys when Rhys was a child. He hated to think how much he’d hurt her when he was coming to terms with the way his brain worked now.
But today, his chest also twinged at the thought that Ginny had lost her mother entirely.
That information had surprised him. How could the incessantly chirpy Ginny have experienced that profound grief at such a young age?
And the insistence that she was okay, because she was close to her stepmother?
He doubted she realised she’d clenched her back teeth when she’d said that.
He gave Mam a longer squeeze than usual and followed her into the house with its greying wallpaper and photos of him as a child – as well as photos he’d taken – adorning the walls. It would be a little embarrassing to ever bring anyone here.
‘Rhys bach,’ she said fondly, gripping his arm as though the extended hug hadn’t been long enough for her. ‘You came all the way to see me.’
‘Of course, Mam.’
‘I won’t complain, but it does make me think you’re giving me all this time because you know you’ll be gone a while come November.’
‘If you guilt-trip me the moment I step through the door, perhaps I’ll be reluctant to come,’ he said drily.
‘It’s the only type of trip I go on, love,’ she said affectionately. ‘Don’t take away my joy in it.’
He trailed her into the narrow kitchen, where she put on the kettle. ‘Maybe you should plan another one. Come and visit me.’
‘What would I do in Canada? You wouldn’t be able to pry me from the radiator. I’ve just settled into my lovely new house by the sea.’
Her definition of ‘just’ was a little different from his. She’d lived here five years now.
‘Besides, you’re moving to Canada to get away from all of us, aren’t you?’
He wasn’t sure who she meant by ‘us’. ‘Mam,’ he warned her, ‘it’s the best assignment I’ve ever won – two years at a major national park.’ He was still amazed he’d been selected.
‘Aw, so it’s just a little extra perk that it’s two years alone in an isolated place up a mountain instead of just a few months as usual?’
‘That is a perk,’ he mumbled in agreement, fishing the teabag out of his mug.
‘So,’ she said when she’d led him to the dining room and slid onto a chair. ‘Have you told any of your friends yet?’
He shook his head.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve decided to use this as a fresh start? Meeting new people might help you find your place,’ she said with a sigh.
‘I have my place,’ he contradicted her lightly. ‘Behind a camera.’ For a few years, while he’d got used to processing colour again, he’d worried he’d lost that too.
He stifled a grimace. He’d felt blind and inept behind a camera at one time in his life, and the prospect of photographing another wedding brought it all back.
Not to mention the matter of working – closely – with Ginny.
He was out of his depth with her as well.
He kept his distance for self-preservation, while for her, everything was personal.
Ten minutes in her company today and she’d asked about his past, shared about her dead mother and made him agree to something he’d never intended to help with.
She was a menace – a beautiful, kind-hearted menace. She’d probably even be sad when he left for Canada, when she barely knew him and he apparently made her nervous.
‘What’s vexing you, lovey? That’s quite a scowl.’
He shook his head to clear it. ‘I agreed to be the photographer at Andreas’s wedding, that’s all.’
‘Oh? I thought you’d decided against it.’
‘The wedding planner was desperate.’
‘Oh,’ was all she said at first. He peered at her face, looking for hints in her features. He’d felt something in her tone, but he couldn’t be certain he wasn’t simply imagining his mother could see all the Ginny-related turmoil inside him.
He couldn’t get to Canada quickly enough.
‘That’s why I’m here, actually,’ he said, hoping to distract her. ‘I was in Bath to…’ He decided he didn’t want to finish that sentence after all.
His mam laughed, a good-humoured trill that always eased the tension in his shoulders. ‘The way you’re blushing, I’m going to start thinking this is about a woman.’
He pressed the backs of his fingers to his cheeks without thinking, the heat – and accuracy of his mother’s suspicions – making him wince.
‘The wedding planners are all women,’ he mumbled. ‘But don’t get any ideas.’
Her exhale was sharp. ‘Why not? You loved Annie, didn’t you? Why couldn’t you find someone else? In Canada, perhaps?’
He couldn’t quite stifle his groan. Yes, he’d loved Annie, and that relationship had still gone to pieces. Getting close to people had never been easy for him. Not the way it was for Ginny.
‘I’m better on my own.’
‘Better than with the right person?’
He laughed to himself when Ginny was the one in his mind again, with her piercing and her glossy hair and her clothing with ruffles.
Ginny, who was far too young for him anyway.
She was not the right person. It was just the worst time to discover he could still feel so attracted to a woman when he couldn’t remember her face.
‘There’s no such thing as the right person,’ he said gently. She should understand that. Her great love had run out on her, leaving her with a mortgage and a two-year-old.
She waved her finger in his face, but he knew the gesture was full of affection. ‘Do not dare say that at the wedding! I don’t want to hear you spoiled the big day.’
‘I’m not going to spoil it,’ he said, holding up his hands as he flinched away from her waving fingertip. ‘I’m just taking the photos. I won’t be saying anything.’
He felt her gaze on him – speculatively, he suspected. There was something about the way she was sitting back in her chair, the appearance of casual. Then she leaned her elbows on the table and said, ‘Send me a photo.’
‘Sure. The wedding is in the Alps, northern Italy. It’ll be full autumn colour by then. I’ll make you a landscape print.’
‘That would be lovely,’ she said with a nod. ‘But not what I meant.’
‘I’ll send you a photo of the wedding dress from my phone,’ he agreed drily. ‘I imagine it’ll be white and fluffy.’
‘You’re not great at compliments, my son,’ she quipped. ‘But that’s also not what I meant. Send me a picture of the pretty wedding planner who’s turned your head.’
‘Mother!’