Page 33 of Chasing the Light
StellapushedGracepast a stylish cafe with tables on the pavement.Agroup of women sat outside, prams arranged around them, laughing as they breastfed their babies and drank their coffees and ate their pastries.
‘Isanyone else getting little bumps on their nipples?’ asked one of the mums.
Yes!Stellawanted to yell.Ihave those!
Fora moment, she toyed with the idea of sitting down at the table next to them and falling into their conversation as they compared notes on their child’s poo.Buther natural shyness balked at the idea.
Instead, she continued on her way, wishing yet again that she had doneNCTclasses before havingGrace.Butboth she andConnorhad been working right up until the birth.Theyjust didn’t have the time.
Shesighed again.Asher mother would say: ‘Ilmonde è fatto a scale: c’è chi scende, e c’è chi sale.’ —‘Theworld is made of stairs: some go up and some go down.’MaybeStellawas just having a bit of a down moment.
Pausingto close her eyes, she let the hot sunshine give her some mood-enhancingVitaminD.Suddenlyshe was transported back to the shores ofLakeKivuinRwanda, where she had lounged on the beach withConnorandGracenot too long ago and talked about the future.
‘Doyou think you’ll shoot weddings for the rest of your life?’ she’d asked him.
Hishead rested in her lap andGracesat nearby, playing with an older local child who seemed to have temporarily adopted her. ‘I’vebeen thinking about that a lot lately,’ he’d said. ‘IthinkIwant to start shooting more fashion and advertising, fewer weddings.Lessweekend work, soIcan spend more time with you andGrace.Idon’t want to miss her growing up becauseI’mworking too hard, like my dad did.’Stellarefrained from pointing out the other reason his dad missed half his childhood—because he had too many girlfriends to entertain.
Instead, she stroked her fingers through his newly long hair and said, ‘Thatwould be great.Doyou think you can do it?’
‘Well, there’s a lot of snobbery surrounding wedding photography.I’llhave to find the right agent, someone who doesn’t see coming from a wedding background as a problem.’
‘Ifanyone can do it,ConnorKnightcan.’
He’dlooked up at her then, shielding his eyes from the sun. ‘Andyou?’
She’dbeen about to share that she was thinking of moving into women’s portraiture, when the local girl laughed asGracecrawled away towards an abandoned ball.
Connorleapt up, and the moment passed.Theyhadn’t spoken about it since.Infact, all he could talk about was when she would come back to work to run the wedding business.NowthatKrishwas gone, that left only her.
Wakingfrom her daydream,Stellafound herself approaching the zebra crossing made famous by the cover ofAbbeyRoad.Asshe followed in the phantom footsteps ofJohn,Paul,Ringo, andGeorge, she had to laugh.Wouldshe be forever stuck walking in the footsteps of great men?Wouldshe ever be able to crawl out of the long shadow cast by her amazingly talented husband?
Shehoped so.Shewas a star by name, after all—Stellameaning ‘star’ inItalian—and she needed to shine.AsGracestirred in the pram,Stellapromised herself to talk about her future withConnorsoon.
12
Krishsurveyedthe office for the millionth time.Hewanted everything to be perfect for today’s meeting.
Yesterday, he’d gone shopping withJess.They’dbought aNespressomachine and a fancy capsule presentation case, every type of tea imaginable, plants of varying sizes to bring life to the space, and designer pillows for the sofa.They’dstocked the fridge with soft drinks, beer, and individual bottles ofMoët.JoMalonediffusers gave the air a pleasant, citrusy tang.
Theoffice exuded luxury.Professionalism.
Herearranged his sample albums on the table.Satisfiedwith their placement, he picked up the remote and hit play, just to double check that the slideshow of his work was ready to go on the new 75-inchTV.HewatchedFrancesca’sshowreel as well.Shereally was good at what she did.Shehad a talent for capturing those moments between moments, where people were unguarded, where the real story lived.Hertraining as a documentarian shone through her work.
Krishreset the slideshow and showreel and glanced at his watch.Francescashould arrive in half an hour, and the clients in an hour.
Allhe could really do was wait.
‘We’rebaa-aaack!’proclaimedFrancesca’ssymptoms as soon as she opened her eyes following a shocking night’s sleep.Trueto form, her body had given her exactly seven days of respite before the cycle of hell started again.
Atthis point, it wasn’t the pain that bothered her.Thatwould start next week.Thismorning, she awoke with a foreboding, like she never wanted to get out of bed.Likeshe hated everyone.Likeshe could kick a puppy and not feel bad about it.
Pre-menstrual tension.
Shepulled the covers over her head.Whydid it have to happen today of all days?Thiswas the week of her cycle where she generally tried to avoid other humans.Andnow she had to go into work and becharming.Mightas well askCinderella’sstep-sisters to benice.
Comeon,Francesca,pull it together.Shehoped she could avoid igniting this opportunity like it was doused in petrol.
Yippee-kiyay,MotherFucker,replied her ovaries.