Why do they do it to you? It was all going so well. The wedding was a dream. Katie looked so beautiful, all glowing and happy. I got through my poem. There were a few nodding heads, but whether or not that was from too much wine I can’t say and I was on the home straight, congratulating myself on a master class deserving an Oscar when Matt manoeuvred me outside onto the lawn in the moonlight and got down on one knee.
He only bloody proposed! Dark blue velvet box with sparkler [not very big, I noticed] and everything. The Full Monty.
Worse still, our friends on the terrace having a smoke saw what he was up too and cheered. Agggggh… what was I supposed to do? I felt completely trapped by the short and curlies. Everyone was cheering and clapping... and waiting. I could feel a cold sweat on the back of my neck and started breathing heavily.
I hadn't had a chance to speak to him on his own since coming back from Australia. I never expected him to do anything like this. This is Matt we're talking about. Safe, predictable Matt who takes years to make a decision about whether to change his hairstyle [and quite frankly there's not a lot of change you can make to curly brown locks except a No.1 all over.] How long had he been cooking this one up? I’ve only been in the new job a few months. Things were alright between us until then.
All these thoughts flashed through my mind as he waited expectantly for my reply, one knee getting a damp mark from the grass on his wedding suit [God, I hope he wasn’t thinking of saving money and using it for ours- I wouldn't be having brown as a colour theme.] An expectant puppy dog expression on his face.
Suddenly I remembered Jane Austen. I thought of the only way I could get myself out of this and save face for both Matt and me. Might be a little old fashioned but worth a try as nothing else was pinging into my head to save me.
So I pretended I’d had too much to drink and swooned, [ love that word.] Gracefully of course, as I didn’t want to hurt myself on the way down, and it was only a slight stagger, not full on faint and collapse in a heap on the grass at his feet.
But, dear reader, it worked! The attention was taken from my answer to my health. Matt heroically leapt forward to steady me. I insisted that I needed to go home, quoting my recent ear infection and the excitement of the day as a reason. God I felt shallow. Matt seemed to forget he’d ever asked me.The pace picked up. There was all hustle and bustle from various friends and it was decided that someone else should give me a lift home as Matt didn’t want to leave. I of course, continued in role and remained 'fragile', [I wasn’t Rosalind in the school production of ‘As You Like It’ for nothing.]
I know it’s only delaying tactics but I need to speak to him on his own so that I can explain that I definitely don’t want to get married…yet…or to him.