Away With the Fairies (The Swallow Barn Cottage Series, Book 2)

Ed Sheeran at Your Wedding

"Don't worry, though, Fiona," Clementine said. "I failed the Test after a few months of dating John, and I'd seen Will several times by then."

"This one," Fiona said quickly and gently touched the tip of her finger to the face on the picture. "This is you, right?"

She turned to him and saw a small smile brush at his lips - and he nodded.

"I told you so," George said and saluted Fiona with her glass.

"They really don't look that alike to me," Fiona said with an apologetic smile.

"They're virtually identical in this photo," Clementine said and picked up the Polaroid. "It's like those children's 'Find 12 Differences' books - and I still can't."

Fiona shrugged and quickly kissed Will's cheek. Clementine gave her the photo back and picked up the other two. She turned one to Fiona, and the latter giggled.

"A Westwood shirt, really?" Fiona asked Will in a teasing tone.

"It's actually authentic," John said and laughed. "He'd saved money for it for months."

"What song are you singing here?" Fiona asked, greedily looking at the photo.

John in it screamed into the microphone, and Will stood behind him, bent almost in half, his long fingers tense on his bass, his feet wide apart. The pose was full of some dynamic energy and contained physical strength, and Fiona wondered what it would look like when painted. In Chinese ink, maybe even with a bamboo brush.

"No More Heroes," Will answered.

"The Stranglers, 1977," Fiona said with a nod.

"Oh my," George murmured. "Aren't you a match made in heaven?"

Fiona felt Will's gaze on her cheek, and turned to him. She remembered their discussion of the Clash on their first day together. Was it really just six days ago?!

"I didn't want to seem like a know-it-all," she said shyly, and one of those almost invisible smirks made his lips curl up. "You two were such beautiful boys," she said once again looking down at the photo. "And that's Oliver on the rhythm guitar, right?"

"And that's James Whitlaw," Will said and pointed at the drummer. "You've met his brother."

"Did she?" John's voice sounded suddenly tense.

Will met his eyes.

"It was a brief meeting," he said with a meaningful look from under a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Good," John said.

"So, you're a bassist," Fiona drew out, studying the third photo - of the four of them standing near an entrance of what seemed to be a nightclub.

In the photo John was grinning widely into the camera, Whitlaw's arm wrapped around his shoulder. Oliver lingered behind, a shy smile on his face. Will was looking aside, as if listening to someone to his right, a small frown on his face. Oh dear. The man could look mouth-watering even in a preposterous black denim jacket with the Union Jack patch on it. Paul Simonon much? Both brothers were slimmer and lankier then - but one could already see the bearmen they'd grow into. And she surely appreciated the black jeans tight on Will's thighs in the photo.

"I should have known," she added with a giggle.

"Well, Fiona, dear, what did you expect? You're exactly the kind of a girl to shag a bass guitarist," George said, pouring another glass for herself. "You're all ethereal, delicate, and secretly very, very kinky. Into bad boys - but not the sexy front man. Your kind is always into the bassist and... his large strong hands. And the gravitas, and the intensity," George sing-songed.