The Story, part II

Part I

So, the girl wanted to get married? Oh what a contrary girl she was. Not that she regretted her contrariness for a minute mind you, it was made her special, interesting she told herself, it was what made him love her even. That was her story and she was sticking to it and when he told her she was impossible, well that just made her smile. But however delightful contrariness might be in a person she couldn't deny it had left her in an awfully awkward position, for she knew she wanted to marry him and he knew, without a doubt, that she didn't want to get married.

Now she didn't realise at the time that what most women do when they find themselves in such a situation is to drop hints. A diamond ring admired here, an allusion to the delights of matrimony dropped there, the merest suggestion that they do want to get married, they really do and that if the gentleman in question were to ask for her hand, well the answer would be a resounding yes. But that's not how this girl operated. Oh no. Hints were not her style, how very undignified such a game would be to her. In fact hints were so not her style that they didn't occur to her as a solution to her pickle until long after she had taken matters into her own hands and done the proposing herself.

Now she was aware of how a proposal should be carried out. Aware that it should be romantic, heartfelt, memorable and she had heard that at least one party should be kneeling on the floor. A rumour was circulating that jewelery should be involved but she decided that that was an unfounded myth.

The thought of asking her boy to marry her gave her flutters in her tummy and made her smile. This is a pleasant sensation she thought, I like this. At the same time she was carrying out some research of a professional nature into weddings and to this end she bought a wedding magazine. Oh boy, that did not go well and quite honestly it made her rather anxious about the whole wedding part of getting married. It was all so...tasteless. The men all looked the same, the women all looked the same. Of course that one was embroidered in a different place to that one, and that one's tiara was more modest that that one's which had a frankly papal air about it. That one had a bouquet of pink roses and that one over there had cream. One adventurous lady even had a bouquet of pink and cream roses. As she felt the panic rise in her chest she closed the magazine and put it down on the coffee table. Eyeing it suspiciously she used one finger to push it to a distance she considered to be safe and frowning she started to doubt that weddings were for her. Were she to get married there would be no long white dress, no walking down the aisle to a romantic tune, no tradition and most definitely no castles. Oh the poor pitiful fool, how little time it would take for her to lose her conviction.

But while she doubted that weddings were for her her determination to marry the boy never wavered. She knew she would ask him and she knew he would say yes. She just knew it. In fact along with the thought of dropping hints, the possibility of being turned down never entered her mind. For in all their combined irritation with those who told them that they simply must get married, he had been distinctly less vociferous in his disgust than her. 'Really?' he said with a bemused expression when she told him marriage was a nonsense. In fact, she had the tiniest suspicion that actually he would quite like to get married. Not that he was going to admit it now. No, he might be romantic but he wasn't stupid.

She however was not very romantic (and possibly a little stupid, but that's by the by) and orchestrating any sort of 'awww'-worthy proposal involving rings, boats, beaches or champagne was never going to work for her. She simply had to ask him, to tell him that she had changed her mind and would he please think about marrying her. To pop the question. For she was not good at orchestrating, not cool, not calm, not very good at acting. And a decent proposal requires a little acting, a little 'Oh this is just a normal, run of the mill romantic outing, la la lah. Hang on a minute, No it's not, will you marry me? Oh you weren't expecting that? Well my job here is well done. If you say yes of course' And the girl was nothing if not dreadful at acting. And planning. And concealing a plan. Just dreadful...


Part III to follow (soon, I promise. No, honestly, I've already written it...)