“Come on Jambee!”

Jambee begins to run.

“You’re taking forever.”

“Let’s get these photographs done.”

“They like him,” says Simi, placing her empty glass on the tray held out by a waiter who is collecting glasses off the tables.

“No more champagne,” says Marybelle, her face disappointed, as she squeezes her glass on to the crammed tray.

“Plenty up at the lodge,” the waiter smiles.

“We’d better go up then. Oh … just hold on,” Marybelle waves at a group on the edge of the trees. “Look who’s there. Simi, if you don’t mind, I’m just going to catch up with that lot. Haven’t seen them for years. I’ll follow you up.”

“Sure,” Simi replies, shivering slightly.

Sun drops like a rock here. Suddenly gets cooler. And those gusts don’t help.

She begins to make her way up to the lodge, following the trail of guests heading towards the glow of the lights. Already long shadows from the trees stretch over the grass. They lie still until the wind skims in, shaking their branches. As Simi walks, she notices a young man break away from the group in front, and come back in her direction.

It’s Tim.

“Did you like the service Simi? We didn’t do badly with All Things Bright and Beautiful, did we?”

“You did your best!” Simi laughs. “Have to say, I don’t think the priest will be recruiting any of you as choristers.”

“So picky! Serious drinking now though, and we’re good at that. Are you coming up to join us at the bar?”

“Sure. Reckon this wind will carry me halfway there at least. All the photographs done now?”

“Most of them. They’re just finishing off by the trees, and then we’ll do the last ones up by the lodge.”

“They’ll have to hurry won’t they? The light’s going fast.”

“The staff better get going too,” says Tim, pausing to watch the rush of waiters over the green, as they pack away the tables and glasses.

“How do they get everything back?” Simi asks.

“With that,” Tim points to the small tractor approaching over the bridge at the far end of the golf course. Rudd is at the wheel.

“Looks like they’ve done this before,” says Simi watching the loading begin. In minutes the trailer is piled with the tables and chairs, and the tractor begins to circle back up the track it came down.

“Seems pretty slick to me,” Tim says. “Oh good. Looks like they’ve finished the photographs.”

Jen and Hansie, hand in hand, are walking out from under the trees, with Katania and the photographer behind them. The bride’s dress catches the last of the sunlight, its ivory cream shimmering between the green of the grass, and the dark race of the clouds above.

Simi and Tim watch for a few seconds more, then continue their way upwards, with the waiters hurrying, and the last of the guests strolling, behind them.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023