Thursday, May 17, 2012

title pic Engagement

Posted by dulwichmum on Mon 23 April 2007

I shall always be scarred by the memory of a day trip James and I once took on the Eurostar to Paris.

When we were going out together, James invited me join him on a trip visit a super new Conran restaurant Alcazar in Paris. I simply loved Mezzo and Quaglino’s, and I had never been to Paris, so I was over the moon!

The date of the proposed trip co-incided with the anniversary of our being together for eighteen months and also my 3oth birthday! Naturally as a girl of almost thirty years I attached huge significance to this trip. Clearly, James intended to propose. Hurrah!!! My months of adhering to “The Rules” were finally about to pay off.

My body clock was ticking so loudly in my ears at the time that I could hardly follow the line of poor James’ conversation.

I promptly informed all of my girlfriends, my flat mate Katie Bancroft, my mother and my sisters that James was intending to propose. I bought myself a suitable new outfit; a baby blue cashmere cardigan, a black pencil skirt, and a super new Mac lipstick and Hermes scarf. I was appropriately attired for a proposal of marriage in Paris. I had rehearsed my look of surprise so many times in the bathroom mirror, I could surely have given Meryl Streep a run for her money in a believability contest.

There we were on that romantic Bridge on the river Seine, in front of Notre Dame – the perfect romantic location. James went down on one knee, I welled up with excitement and emotion – he tied his shoe lace and stood up. James ate the dreadful meal (steak tartare is actually raw meat with an uncooked quails egg on the top! OHMYGOD) at the superb restaurant, nothing was said, no diamond in the glass of champagne. At this point I was becoming panic stricken. I stared at him unblinking, wide eyed in horror.

Walking through the streets of Paris, I began to hug James, practically frisking him, seeking evidence of a ring box about his person, but nothing was to be found. I tried to convince myself that this was a good sign, who wants to be presented with a diamond, when you can help to choose it?

In the queue for the lift for the Eiffel Tower I decided I could not wait any longer…

“Have you anything you wanted to ask me? Any important questions?” I enquired.

“Yes“, replied James. “Now that you mention it, you owe me £90 for the Eurostar”. I almost swallowed my teeth with disgust.

“So you are not intending to propose to me then?” I demanded.

“No” he replied simply.

I could not breathe in with the shock. I didn’t speak to him for a full twenty four hours after that. I really wanted to dump him in disgust. How could I face my friends with no ring? How would I face Katie Bancroft? She would instruct me to show him the door! She was constantly telling me not to put up with any nonsense.

But I couldn’t stop seeing James, you see, I love him.

Kate Bancroft is a very difficult woman to please. She still lives in that shared flat in Gainsboro Court SE21…

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