Chapter One
Tonight is the night!
Tonight is the night the love of my life is going to propose. He thinks I don’t know but I’m not a fool. It would have been impossible to miss the signs.
Paul’s been acting shifty for weeks. First, he popped out for a run the other day and left a Google search open on the computer in our living room: ‘Cost of diamond ring’. Hardly subtle.
Then, on my lunch break a few weeks ago, I bumped into him.
I work at a law firm just around the corner from Hatton Garden – London’s go-to destination for jewelry. I nipped out to a café down the road for lunch, and saw Paul, hanging around outside the jewelers, eyeing a window display of engagement rings. I stopped in my tracks, unsure whether I should say hi or just scurry back the way I’d come. Paul must have sensed me looking because he glanced around and instantly spotted me. His cheeks flushed. He works on the opposite side of town so it's not like he could just dismiss the incident by claiming he was simply ‘in the area’. He was clearly checking out rings for a reason.
‘Hey!’ I approached, smiling, trying to look casual as I walked up to him, despite the feeling of glee blowing up inside me.
Paul and I have been together for six years and I’ve been dying to get engaged, but I wanted him to propose. Call me a traditionalist, but I like the fairytale ideal of my boyfriend getting down on one knee, asking for my hand in marriage, wanting to spend the rest of his life with me. It’s just so romantic.
‘Hey,’ Paul replied, smiling awkwardly.
I kissed him, raising my eyebrows slightly in a conspiratorial, knowing way, but Paul didn’t react, choosing to act blasé instead, as though nothing was out of the ordinary at all. As though it’s perfectly normal to make a trip across the city to peruse engagement rings.
‘So… what are you up to?’ I asked cheekily, resisting the urge to give him a nudge.
I glanced at the display of rings. There were some pretty ones, some really pretty ones, but I have to admit, I did find it a bit strange that Paul would have wanted to buy a ring first-hand when his mum gave him her engagement ring a few years ago. She said it no longer fitted, and she’d rather Paul took it to propose when he ‘felt the time was right’. She was clearly trying to encourage him to make a move, but that was several years ago now, and he’s never quite gotten around to it.
‘Err…’ Paul hesitated, glancing anxiously at a passing bus as though looking for an escape route.
Then his phone started ringing. He retrieved it from his pocket. Simon, the name of his boss, flashed up on the screen.
‘Great. Better take this,’ Paul grumbled, pecking me on the cheek, before answering his phone and wandering off towards the tube station.
It was obvious Paul hadn’t wanted to be interrupted and I felt a bit bad that I’d spoilt the surprise, but in an effort to make him feel better, I decided not to mention our encounter. I’d pretend like it never happened and let the proposal pan out as intended. Paul seemed to be on board with this unspoken course of action and neither of us referred to having run into each other in Hatton Garden again.
But I knew. I knew he was going to propose and I’ve been on cloud nine ever since wondering how he’s going to go about it. He came home from work a week ago with a fancy bottle of wine and sushi from my favorite Japanese restaurant. He lit candles and I felt on edge the whole evening, wondering if he’d do a cute at-home proposal. I thought I was going to find a ring tucked away in my tuna nigiri, but nothing happened. No proposal. It was just a regular couples evening in. There were no surprises in my salmon rolls.
But then, a few of days ago, Paul told me he’d booked us a table at the Italian restaurant where we shared our first date, and I instantly knew this was the night. Of course, it was. It was so perfect – being proposed to in the same restaurant where we’d had our very first date – a nod to how we’ve come full circle. The little family-run restaurant tucked away underneath a train tunnel near London Bridge may not be the fanciest or most salubrious venue imaginable, but it has sentimental value and that’s what counts. Once upon a time, we were nervous wide-eyed singletons drunkenly flirting over tiramisu in that place and now we’re fully-fledged adults who share a mortgage and a joint account; that restaurant is part of our history.
Tonight’s the night and I cannot wait. I’m all warm and fuzzy inside as I get ready. I even flicked the fairy lights on around my dressing table mirror and I feel almost like a Hollywood starlet as I wind my locks around a curling wand, twisting my hair into bouncy curls. I finish styling my hair and reach into my side of the wardrobe for a dress I bought especially for tonight. Paul hasn’t seen it yet. I bought it from Selfridges after work the day Paul and I put tonight in the diary. It cost quite a lot, but it’s worth it: a figure-hugging black lace number with a flattering cut that enhances my cleavage and nips in at the waist. I felt confident and sexy when I tried it on in the changing room, and I knew Paul would appreciate it. It makes a change from the boring pencil skirt and blazer combinations I wear to work.
I step into the dress, admiring my pearly pink lacquered toenails as I do so. Paul doesn’t realize this, but I took the afternoon off today to get ready properly. He probably thinks I’m coming straight from the office like I usually do on the rare occasions that he and I eat out in town, but I wanted to take some extra time getting ready. I spent the afternoon at a beauty salon near the office having a manicure, a pedicure, a spray tan and even a bikini wax and eyelash extensions. I wanted to look my best for the night that’s going to change things forever. The night Paul and I officially become engaged. I can’t wait!
Actually, I can. I’ve waited quite a long time. Tonight is two years overdue according to my Life List. It might sound a bit odd but when I left school, I decided I’d create a plan to follow in order to get the life I’ve always dreamed about. After all, dreaming alone doesn’t get you anywhere. You need to take action, you need goals, you need to work for the things you want. That’s been my ethos throughout my adult life. I have fun, don’t get me wrong, but I know that if I don’t take charge of my destiny, things could easily go awry. It happens all the time, even to the nicest people. They coast along, hoping for the best, and then before they know it, they’re thirty and in a job they hate, living a place they don’t like, feeling unfulfilled and frustrated. I was determined that wasn’t going to happen to me so I made a Life List with clear goals and I’ve stuck to it.
At eighteen, I’d go to a top university to study Law. Tick. I’d graduate at twenty-one with a high 2:1 or a 1st. Tick. I’d move to London and secure a trainee solicitor position at a decent firm. Tick. I’d get a close-knit group of nice, fun, caring friends. Tick. I’d date with the intention of finding a serious boyfriend by the age of twenty-six. Tick. We’d be in a stable relationship and move in together by the age of twenty-eight. Tick. I’d make partner at my law firm by thirty. Tick.
It’s all gone swimmingly. All of my goals have worked out. Except one. In between moving in with my boyfriend at twenty-eight and being made partner at my firm by thirty, I was meant to get engaged. My boyfriend and I were meant to get married and that simply hasn’t happened. That’s the only goal that hasn’t worked out, and now I’m approaching my thirty-first birthday and wondering why that one goal has failed to materialize. Neither Paul nor I are particularly religious, but he knows I’ve always wanted to get hitched. He knows it means something to me, so why has he been holding back? Loads of our friends have been getting married over the past few years and after every wedding, Paul and I end up being awkward and frosty with each other for days – the lack of engagement rings on our fingers an undeniable elephant in the room. But then I get a new case at work or our house needs some renovation and I get distracted. I push it out of my mind and assure myself that it will happen, one day, I just need to be patient.