42. Holly, London

‘Babe, are you almost here? I'm desperate to see you,' Casey says from the other end of the line.

I skim the hordes of people outside Oxford Circus tube station. ‘I'm desperate to see you too, but I told Jaz and Leila I'd wait for them here.' Further along Oxford Street, I spot them rushing towards me, hand in hand. ‘Oh, here they come … see you soon.'

‘Sorry, Holly,' Jaz says, giving me a quick hug. ‘I bet that was Casey on the phone hurrying you up.'

Leila squeezes my hand, the wool of her gloves warm against my skin. ‘It's my fault. I told Jazzy she should leave without me and come meet you,' she says.

‘It's fine. We've got time. You know how nervous Casey gets before an exhibition opening.'

‘Yep, she'll be hyped,' Jaz says, then looks down at my legs as we head along Regent Street. ‘Ooh, what are you wearing?'

I stop, untie the belt of my coat and hold it open to reveal a sleeveless, silver-sequinned jumpsuit that clings to my body, then quickly close it again to protect myself from the cold air.

Leila groans her appreciation. ‘Oh, Holly. I love it.' Leila works in retail and constantly groans over clothes, especially when they sparkle.

Jaz lets out a whistle. ‘You look hot. Has Casey seen you in this? She's going to love it.'

‘Not yet.' Despite the winter chill, my cheeks flush. Casey has been so busy with work the past few weeks, we haven't seen each other as much as normal, and I wanted to keep my exhibition outfit a surprise because I love the way she looks at me when I dress up.

Leila links her arm through mine and says excitedly, ‘It's your big night.'

‘Oh.' I scrunch my nose. ‘It's not really my big night…'

‘Babe. It totally is,' Jaz says. ‘You've got three photos in an art exhibition. It's huge.'

‘It's Casey being kind,' I say.

Jaz gives me a playful nudge with her shoulder. ‘Stop being so modest. You know as well as I do Casey doesn't show anything in the gallery that's not up to scratch.'

I stand a little taller. ‘I guess.'

We continue towards the gallery. It's early evening on a Wednesday and Regent Street is bustling with people leaving work or stopping for a drink, a sense of merriment about them. The magnificent Christmas angels hover mid-air, their wings spanning the width of the street. Cold air vapour seeps from my lips and it reminds me of winter at home. A pang of longing rises for Adam, Meg and the boys, and Nat and her family.

Jaz wraps her arm around my waist as we turn the corner. ‘You okay?'

‘Yeah. I'm thinking about home. Melbourne's cold like this in winter, and…' I swallow back the emotion. ‘Miss it sometimes.'

Jaz gives me a sympathetic smile. ‘They'll all be so proud of you. Your Mum and Dad especially.'

I nod. ‘Just wish they could be here.'

Leila slides her arm across my shoulder. ‘They're always with you.'

‘Your aunty and cousin will be here,' Jaz says. ‘And Adam, Meg and Nat are going to follow the live stream…'

I give them a grateful smile. ‘You're right. Just having a moment.'

We arrive at the gallery and Jaz knocks on the glass doors.

Casey's face lights up and she rushes out. ‘You're here!' She makes a beeline for me and kisses me. Her lips are soft and warm on my cold face, her hands gentle on my neck, and it feels like forever since our last kiss. ‘Hello, lovely,' she says.

I brush my nose against hers. ‘Hello.'

‘For God's sake, you two,' Jaz says. ‘It's freezing out here. Do your canoodling inside.'

Casey ushers us in and we unravel scarves and shrug off coats. Her mouth drops open as she looks me up and down. ‘Babe.'

I raise a suggestive brow. ‘Like it?'

She throws her head back and moans. ‘How am I going to concentrate on work when you look like that?'

‘What did I say?' Jaz says with a sly grin, then waves a finger between us. ‘I do not want to walk into the toilets and hear you two shaggin' in a cubicle.'

I laugh. ‘I think we can control ourselves.'

Casey kisses my neck, her hand sliding down my back. ‘I don't think I can. You look incredible.'

My body sizzles under her touch and I giggle as she nuzzles my neck.

‘Ahem.' Josanne is watching us with raised eyebrows, her lips twitching. ‘I don't think that's the kind of exhibition people are coming to see.'

Casey grins. ‘Sorry.'

Josanne's eyes flick over me. ‘I can't blame her. You look amazing, Holly.' She turns to Jaz and Leila, who both look stunning. Jaz is dressed in a black, glimmery suit and Leila is in a slinky emerald-green dress – the same one she's wearing in one of my photos. ‘And you two, just gorgeous.' She gives Casey a tap on the arm. ‘Well, get your friends and girlfriend' – she turns to me – ‘sorry, artist, a drink, Casey.'

‘Sorry. I got side-tracked,' Casey says. ‘Drinks coming up.'

She crosses the floor and disappears through the staff entrance with her colleague Michaela.

The gallery looks incredible. There's a huge Christmas tree in the window decorated with gold baubles and twinkling lights. Large, shimmering stars and mistletoe hangs from the ceiling. Artwork for the new exhibition is spaciously displayed in the main gallery, and through the doorway into the smaller, side gallery, I glimpse the digital art display. My eyes cut to the back wall and I breathe in sharply.

Josanne gives my back a maternal rub. ‘Your photos are incredible, Holly. I hope you're ready to take on some portrait work after tonight.'

I feel my face break into a wide grin. ‘I am. Thank you for letting me be part of this.'

She points to Casey, who's approaching us with a tray of champagne flutes. ‘Thank your superstar curator girlfriend there. This is her exhibition and I trust her judgement.'

Everything inside me softens. I'm only in the exhibition because an artist pulled out and Casey needed to fill the space fast, but I also know she could've found someone else if she really wanted to. I already knew about the theme for the exhibition, which had inspired some photo ideas. So when the opportunity arose, I gave Casey and Josanne a proposal and they both loved it. Luckily for me, I was able to execute my ideas better than I imagined.

‘Here you go,' Casey says, handing me the champagne.

I thank her with a lingering kiss.

When we part, she touches the H pendant of my necklace. ‘I am so proud of you.'

‘Mmm. I could do nothing and you'd be proud of me.'

She smiles. ‘True. But tonight I'm extra proud.'

We're interrupted by the gallery doors opening, Casey and Jaz's families piling in, laughing, talking, oozing joy and love. There are bear hugs and cheek kisses like it's been months since we've all seen each other rather than just last weekend.

Minutes later, my aunty and cousin arrive. My cousin Kate, who is a couple of years younger than me, is also my flatmate, so I give her a quick, ‘Hey, Katie,' before she rushes off to talk to Chandice. But I haven't seen my aunty for a couple of weeks. I pull her close, breathing in her comforting, familiar scent. ‘Hi, Aunty Carol. I'm so glad you could make it.'

We step apart and she beams at me. It's like looking at a younger, healthier version of Mum. ‘I wouldn't miss it,' she says. ‘Plus, Katie and I are in one of these photos, aren't we?'

‘You certainly are.'

Casey appears and gives Carol a warm embrace. ‘Hi, Aunty Carol.'

‘Hello, Casey, love,' she says, returning the hug. She holds Casey's hand in hers and glances around the gallery. ‘Look at this. So beautiful.'

Casey points to the back wall. ‘Your niece's photographs are over there.'

Aunty Carol squints as she focuses. ‘Oh, Holly.' She touches a hand to her chest and faces me with watery eyes and a look that says, ‘Your parents would be so proud', but she knows if she voices it, we'll both be in tears.

I give her another squeeze. ‘Thank you for being here.'

Casey and Michaela fetch everyone drinks, and for the next half an hour, we have the gallery to ourselves. Although my contribution to the exhibition is tiny compared to the feature artists, Casey insisted on making a fuss over me, ensuring our friends and families were here first to help celebrate.

‘Webcam is on,' Michaela says, pointing across the gallery. ‘And your family and friends have joined us. Give them a wave.'

I do and within seconds, my phone beeps with a message from Adam.

Proud of you little sis. Love you.

I walk over to the webcam and blow a kiss, even though I can't see them. Another message arrives from Nat.

Hols, look at you. So happy for you. That jumpsuit is sizzling.

I do a little twirl in front of the webcam for her, and say, ‘Miss you all.'

Casey's voice drifts across the gallery, pulling me back into the event. ‘Hello, my dear friends and family,' she says, standing by the Christmas tree. The twinkling lights flicker across her face, giving her an angelic glow. ‘Thank you for coming along to the opening of our winter exhibition, Beyond the Ordinary. You're surrounded by some incredible art that explores the everyday moments of people's lives. At first glance, what you see might appear mundane and ordinary, but look closely and you'll find moving and thought-provoking stories about human connections. Our artists and guests will arrive soon and the exhibition will be officially open, but first, a very special toast to my beautiful, talented, creative, brave…' She stops and beams at me. ‘Did I mention beautiful?'

‘Yes,' Chandice and Kate groan.

Casey laughs and continues. ‘Partner.' She gestures for me to join her, and I nestle into her side. ‘Holly has three incredible photos here tonight, and while she won't let us sell them because she wants to keep them for herself, I have no doubt they'll generate interest and new clients for her in the future.' She gazes at me. ‘I'm so proud of her.' She looks at everyone else. ‘And who knew some of you lot would feature in one of my exhibitions?'

Everyone cheers and raises their glasses.

‘Feel free to say something, if you like,' Casey says to me, loud enough for everyone to hear, and they all quieten down.

‘I'm lost for words,' I say, projecting my voice so that Adam and Nat can hear me through the webcam. ‘It truly is a dream to spend my time on photography and to have my photos displayed in a gallery. Thank you to my willing subjects who let me follow them around for weeks with my camera. Thank you to Josanne for supporting aspiring artists.' I turn to Casey. ‘And of course, thank you to my amazing partner.' I press my lips to hers and everyone cheers again.

Then the doors are open. Artists and guests flow in, and the space fills with chatter, music and laughter. Catering staff circulate with drinks and finger food, people slowly roam the gallery, taking in paintings, photographs and digital art, and Casey gives an official opening speech.

I'm enjoying the atmosphere and soaking up the compliments, when I come face-to-face with Eva. I knew she'd be here but I didn't allow myself to think about it. Now I'm suddenly very aware that the wedding reception was meant to have been held in this room, and her ex-fiancée is here celebrating another event with another woman.

‘Hi, Holly,' Eva says, her voice softer and kinder than last time we spoke – the only time we've spoken.

I give small, cautious smile. ‘Hi, Eva.'

She points towards the back of the gallery. ‘Congratulations on your photos. You've really captured the essence of everyone's personalities, especially Leila.'

My defences start to lower. ‘Thanks.'

Her eyes flick downward. ‘Amazing jumpsuit, too.'

My smile is more genuine now and I run my hands over the smooth sequins. ‘It is amazing, isn't it?'

Eva nods. She looks incredible too, with her glossy black hair and perfectly made-up face, a diamond pendant glistening at her throat. She lowers her gaze. ‘I, um … wanted to apologise to you.'

My brows shoot up. ‘Oh?'

She bites her lip. ‘That was a horrible thing to do to you that day at the pub. I regret it and I'm sorry. Casey broke up with me the minute she returned from Berlin and she told me about you.' Her cheeks redden. ‘I was trying to hurt her, and maybe you a bit, but mostly her.'

I feel a wave of empathy for Eva, having been there myself. ‘I understand.' I want to tell her that I would've stayed away from Casey if I knew, but I'm not certain that's true. Casey's pull on me was too strong. I would've tried; I would've encouraged Casey to speak to Eva sooner, but stay away completely? Unlikely. Instead, I say, ‘I really should thank you because if that hadn't happened, I wouldn't have gone home and had the chance to say goodbye to my mum in person.'

Her eyes fill with compassion. ‘Casey told me about that. I am so sorry about your mum.'

I shift my gaze and take a deep breath before I give her a smile. ‘Thank you.' I point to Aunty Carol, who's talking to Casey's parents. ‘Mum's younger sister is here tonight, so that's nice.'

A soft, protective hand lands on my back and Casey is by my side. ‘Eva.'

Eva's jaw tenses. ‘Don't worry, I was just apologising.'

‘And complimenting my photos,' I say, feeling the need to defend Eva.

Eva gives me a grateful nod. ‘Yeah, that too.'

‘Thanks for coming,' Casey says, her tone softening.

Eva points behind her where Frankie is gazing at a painting. ‘Thank Frankie. She's the art lover.' She gives a little shrug. ‘And I couldn't miss the photo of my girl Leila.' Her eyes dart between us. ‘Well, I'll leave you to it.'

‘Okay?' Casey asks once Eva has moved away.

I release a relieved sigh. ‘Yes. I was more worried about seeing her than I realised.' I give Casey a little shove. ‘Go on. Get back to work.'

Casey returns her attention to artists and buyers, and I get back into celebratory mode, squealing with delight when I see Felix and Matias walk through the door. Matias and I have become great friends, bonding over photography.

‘I thought you couldn't make it,' I say, giving them both a hug.

‘Last-minute change of plans,' Felix says.

‘I couldn't miss your gorgeous photos,' Matias adds.

A waitperson appears and we each grab a glass of champagne and catch up on life in London and Berlin.

Eventually, I'm alone in front my photographs.

The first is of Casey, Chandice and their parents working together in the butcher's. We'd stayed at Casey's parents' place one Friday night and a staff member called in sick the next day, so Casey had reluctantly helped them out. I arrived with my camera as they were closing. I liked what I'd snapped at the time, but it wasn't until I examined the images closely on a larger screen that I found one I loved.

They're mid-activity, a lyrical flow to their movements, an unbreakable bond between the four of them. Marvin's hands are busy covering meat trays while he watches his daughters with a bemused smile, adoration in his dark eyes. Wendy's mouth is open in a joyous laugh as she wipes down a counter. Chandice and Casey are bent over a single mop handle, using it as a makeshift microphone. Chandice's arm is flung in the air, a cleaning cloth dangling from her fingers. Casey's eyes are partially closed, her mouth open, belting out a song in her white butcher's apron. It's the most perfect shot and Casey had a tear in her eye when she saw the final product. It's hers after the exhibition finishes.

I move to the next photo. Jazzy and Leila, taken late one afternoon when we were all at Jaz and Casey's. Leila had come straight from work, arriving with bags of new purchases from her store. She disappeared, returning to the lounge room five minutes later in a long, slinky dress with a split that ran to the top of her thigh. The silk was taut across her breasts and clung to the curve of her waist and hips. On her feet were a pair of glittery, strappy heels that set off her golden skin. Jaz fell to her knees with a whimper and crawled across the carpet. I lifted my camera as Jaz knelt in front of her, gazing up with smouldering eyes. Leila had one foot placed against Jaz's shoulder, the heel of her shoe denting Jaz's skin, a wicked smirk on her face and one slick eyebrow raised. They were completely caught up in each other, oblivious to me swiftly moving around them to capture the moment. The image sizzles from the chemistry between them.

‘The woman who literally brings me to my knees,' Jaz says, appearing beside me.

I smile. ‘There's a lot of heat and connection in that photo, Jazzy.'

‘Mmm. I think I might actually love her.'

‘Oh, you think? It's not like it's obvious or anything,' I say with a laugh.

Across the gallery, Leila is dancing with Eva. She catches us watching her and blows Jaz a kiss.

Jaz's cheeks flush. ‘I know.'

‘You should probably tell her instead of me, though.'

‘Oh, like how you and Casey tell me instead of each other, you mean?'

I chuckle. ‘Yeah, something like that.'

Jaz heads back to Leila, and I look at my final photo. Aunty Carol and Kate sharing a pot of tea and a lemon drizzle cake on a wet Sunday afternoon. Kate gazes at her mother lovingly as Carol talks about her week. The window behind them is splattered with rain drops and it adds a depth of coziness to the image. It's a tender moment – a strong mother and daughter bond that's reminiscent of Mum and me.

An ache rises in my chest. ‘This one's for you, Mum,' I whisper. A shiver runs over my skin and I rub my arms, blinking back tears.

I sense someone behind me. Even without turning around I know it's Casey. Her woody scent, her warm touch, the way my body hums in response.

She wraps her arms around my waist from behind and kisses my temple. ‘Happy?'

I continue gazing at my photos. ‘So happy. Thank you for doing this for me.'

‘I just gave you some well-deserved wall space. The rest was you.'

I turn to take her in. She looks beautiful. She always looks beautiful, but tonight she has something extra about her – a brighter glow, proud, content, comfortable in her skin – and I feel myself falling for her all over again. ‘You're glowing tonight,' I say.

She laughs and lowers her lips to mine, then says, ‘I'm so glad you're here with me. In London. In the gallery. In my life. I want moments like this together forever.'

My heart balloons. Words I've been holding off saying press on my tongue – words I didn't want to say because I thought it was too soon – but when you know, you know. ‘I want moments like this forever, too, because I love you.'

She stares at me in disbelief then breaks into a wide grin. ‘You said it.'

‘I did.'

‘Maybe you should say it one more time to make sure I heard right?'

‘I love you, Casey Miller-James.'

‘Ditto, Holly Craddock.' Then she kisses me.

I sink into her and the magic of this moment, surrounded by inspiring art, our wonderful friends and families, twinkling decorations and Christmas music, and I know this is exactly where I'm meant to be.