Cheese and Clicks

"Er, you are right, there was more," the photographer continued, filling the silence.

"Just before you reveal any more of Alan's indiscretions about me, I have one thing to ask," she interrupted, "Here we are, walking along holding one another like a comfortable couple, which Barry fortunately seems to think we are, and I don't even know your name."

"Barry does," he laughed, "I spent all morning with the brothers as they were getting ready. Adam's an OK guy, perhaps even better than OK, Charlie is an arrogant prig and Barry is both arrogant and a complete moron."

"Mmmm. Do you always avoid direct questions about introductions, or are you at least a bit like Barry?" she smiled, but away from the lights it was hard for him to tell, her eyes sparkled, though.

"Robert, Rob preferably, Rob Harrison, photo journalist, at your service, madam." He didn't actually bow, but that was probably because he didn't want to relinquish the very comfortable position of his arm around her waist.

"Alright, we'll drop off your cameras, you go to the bar and get our drinks in and I'll get changed into something more flattering to the lower half of my body."

"Argh! Just as I was getting used to an alluring accentuation of just one of your many charms. I will have to turn my attentions to another intriguing facet of your fascinating physiology. So many choices for the admirer of the perfect female form. Give me a clue, though, exactly how low is the neckline of your alternative attire?"

"You are asking for another punch, Mr Harrison," she giggled, "I'm beginning to wish I had packed a chunky polo-neck jersey in my little overnight bag. Just what else did Alan say about me?"

He paused for a while. "Forgive me, I was just trying to visualise the little overnight bag and the skimpiness of its contents. I have a vivid imagination."

He expected a sharp slap for his pains but was pleasantly surprised that she simply laughed. He took this as a good sign. "He told me that as soon as the bouquet was tossed and the bride left, I was to make sure I got to you before Barry's overbearing charms had an opportunity to end my hopes forever. Then I was to make sure I took you for a good drink and then several dances to loosen you up and allow you enjoy yourself. You need it apparently and deserve it. Oh and he also pointed both of us out to the barman to look after both of us, apparently Alan's bar tab was still running for the rest of the night but only for selected guests."

"So Alan wasn't worried about what you, a complete and utter stranger, would do to me, assuming Alan meant it when he said I was almost like a daughter to him?"

"I don't think Alan is the type of person who wouldn't worry about you. I'm sure he'll keep a close watch on us, or me at any rate, to keep me on the straight and narrow. I assure you though he's got nothing to worry about as far as I am concerned. My intentions, believe it or not are honourable and I think that we have a good chance of becoming ... friends at least."

"I'm still not sure you're right, they say the quiet ones are the ones to worry about, not that you've been anywhere near as quiet tonight as you've been all day."

"That must be something to do with the company I am keeping, surely? Anyway, here we are." They stopped at a very small box van. Rob released her waist and undraped his cameras and bags, dropping them carefully in the back after putting each camera away in their individual bags before closing the single back door.

He locked up and they headed back towards the light. As they walked Rob touched her hand with his and they held hands quite naturally, with only a slight hesitation on Carol's part, until they got to the entrance to the bar, where they stopped walking.

"What are you drinking?" Rob asked.

"I'll have a long Campari and soda, if we are dancing."

"We are dancing. Against my better judgement and the wellbeing of sensitive toes, I promised dancing."

"That is, if I do actually come down from my room, of course." she laughed as she walked away, looking over her shoulder.

"Don't let me down," Rob called after her, "I hate drinking alone, even more when I am reduced to drinking someone else's Campari."

"See you later, Rob."

"In a while, Carol."

"Soon, Rob."

Always best to leave the girl with the last word, thought Rob, more in hope than expectation.

The end, or is it?