‘Why don’t we get married?’
I must say, I was really quite shocked. I mean, we’ve only known each other for six weeks! And he hasn’t asked permission from Daddy… he can’t have, I haven’t dared to introduce them yet.
But then I thought, why not? We get along well, he’s very handsome, has his own flat… even if doesn’t quite meet the standard to which I am accustomed. And he has this soirée set up with George Bamberger. If that goes well, we’ll be set up for life!
Then he pulls out this ring, and to be absolutely honest it’s not the kind of thing I would have picked out for myself. It’s quite… gaudypoo, with an enormous stone which sparkles audaciously but actually looks rather cheap. Almost like it was chosen for someone else – that girl in the photograph?
I put this foolish thought from my mind, but remind myself to bring it up with him later – perhaps as leverage to let me spruce up his flat a bit. The space really does have marvellous potential… it just needs a touch of colour co-ordination, a few classy accessories here and there. And we must get rid of some of that dreadful furniture. Especially that ghastly rocking chair. Mind you, if this thing with Bamberger goes to plan we can get our own place, and I can decorate it however I want! What a splendid thought!
Anyway, back to the proposal. It wasn’t quite the romantic scenario I had imagined – he didn’t even get down on one knee, just think! – but it will have to do. I suppose I can embellish the story just a touchypoo when I tell my friends about it.
I just hope that Daddy will approve, he’s really rather protective of me since Mummy passed on. And Brindsley probably isn’t quite the husband he has envisioned for me. I suppose it has been what’s laughingly known as a ‘whirlwind romance’… but I am very happy. And there is a chance they’ll get on like a house on fire… albeit a very, very small one!