Who turns up Just me, from the first email to the last photograph.

I was always the one at family things with the camera. Nobody handed me the job, I just took it, and at some point it stopped being a hobby and started being how I make a living. That’s six years ago now.

Before this I worked in hospitality, and that turns out to be most of what a wedding day actually is. Knowing when the kitchen’s about to plate up. Reading a room that’s running half an hour behind and deciding whether it’s worth saying anything. Carrying on while something goes wrong behind you and nobody out front ever finds out. Being useful without getting in the way. The camera is the easy half of it, honestly.

I’m a bit nerdy about the photography side, which you’ll work out for yourself if you ever let me get started on it. The practical version of that is two Canon bodies and a spare of everything else, because a wedding doesn’t get a second go. And if it rains we go out in it. Some of my favourite photographs have come off a terrible forecast.

At home there’s a four-year-old and two black Labradors, so I’m up early whether there’s a wedding on or not.

What I’m after all day is the bit you’d have missed. Your dad going quiet during the speeches. The friend who laughs with her whole body. The last half hour, when the room’s emptied out and nobody’s performing any more.

So on the day I’ll borrow the two of you for twenty minutes somewhere in the middle, find the good light and mostly leave you to it. The rest of the time I’m keeping half an eye on the running order and telling you where we’re up to, so you’re never the last to know. I stay until the dancefloor’s had enough of me.