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“I find it intrusive…creepy.” Alex shivered, setting her glass aside. “I get panicky just thinking about it. The photographers are only interested in Mark, but I end up being collateral damage. Out on my own, they don’t care who I am.”

“Mark’s fans definitely know who you are.”

“The Keeganites know everything. They probably knew Mark was going to be at the wedding before we got our invite.” Alex shook her head at Lucy’s French fry massacre. Had she left any ketchup in the bottle?

“You know who should’ve been papped post-reception?”

“Oh, God, yeah—Simon! That split in his trousers, zipper to ass—he was totally balls out.” Alex howled. “And Freddie kept snapping photos!”

Lucy creased up. “Si’s designer suit…” She struggled for breath.

“If you’re going commando, skip the slut-drop dance moves!” Alex held her tummy, much needed happy tears dampening her eyes. “I like Simon a lot, but he’s SUCH a bad dancer.”

Lucy’s smile faded. “Actually, though…I’m worried about Freds. I wasn’t bothered when he ditched his secondhand clothes, but dropping out of cons and packing away his collectables?”

Alex sighed. “Freddie needs to stop letting Si call the shots. Did you notice what he ate at the reception? Nothing fun, just broccoli.” She munched a fish finger pensively. “He’s becoming Si’s clone…”

Fries eaten, Lucy dunked her finger into the leftover flood of ketchup and salt on her plate. “It’s like he’s playing a real-life game of Simon Says. Those crisps at the wedding? I bet he got ten demerit points for that.”

“I’d never change for a guy.” Alex shook her head and slid her plate away.