Jill Steeples - It's Now Or Never

‘Oh gosh, that is romantic,’ I said with a heartfelt sigh. ‘Can you imagine? And did they have a long and happy marriage?’

‘They’ve just celebrated their diamond wedding anniversary. We had a big party for them the other week.’

‘That’s so lovely,’ I said, and for a moment I felt a pang of regret for my nan, who wasn’t around any more to enjoy those type of celebrations with Gramps. They’d missed out on their golden anniversary by about fourteen months, but Gramps and I had been adamant that we were still going to celebrate the occasion anyway by going to Nan’s favourite restaurant, eating her favourite food and toasting her memory. It had been a special but poignant day.

‘Fancy only knowing someone for three weeks and then marrying them and it lasting for all those years.’

‘Exactly. That’s what I mean about it being a bit of a lottery. I mean you hear stories like that, but then there are those people who’ve lived together for years, finally decide to get marriage and then, within a matter of months, it’s all over. I’ve never quite understood that either.’

We moved onto our main course. The most delicious aromas were wafting towards my nostrils; roasted duck breast, potato rosti, honey roasted carrots and savoy cabbage.

‘Hmm, that happened to me,’ I said, not entirely sure why I was choosing to divulge this information to a stranger.

‘What? You’re married?’

‘No, I was. Nearly. I mean, I nearly got married. Could you pass me the water please?’ More water, less champagne was clearly what was required here. ‘I was with someone for nine years and we were about to get married and then, well, we split up.’

‘Oh, that’s tough. Sorry for that. Nine years is like a marriage.’

‘Yeah, it was just one of those things,’ I said, waving my hand in front of my face in a suitably nonchalant manner as though it hadn’t mattered in the slightest. ‘It obviously wasn’t meant to be. Maybe for those couples who have been together for a long time, getting married is a sticking plaster to cover the cracks already in the relationship, and it’s only when they’ve made that firm commitment that they realise that they can’t make it better after all.’

Alex pondered on that for a moment before tilting his head to one side and nodding his head sagely.

‘That’s very profound. You might have a point there.’

And I wondered as I said it if that’s what had happened to Paul and me. It had been a now or never situation. We’d been together so long we either had to make a commitment or go our separate ways. It was only when we started thinking about our future, making definite plans, that we realised our future didn’t belong together after all. Maybe Alex was right. Perhaps it was more of a lottery than I thought.

‘So you’re suggesting, to be in with a chance of having a long and happy marriage, it’s better to marry someone relatively quickly after meeting them?’ He quirked his eyebrow in a way that spiked an instant response from the deepest depths of my stomach.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I said, looking away, feeling a heat rise in my cheeks. ‘I’m hardly an expert on these matters.’

I wasn’t sure how we’d got on to this subject.

‘You and Tom work together?’ I said, desperate now to change tack.

‘We used to. We were at uni together and when we left we both went to work for the same bank in the city. It was a mad time. We worked too hard, played too hard, and probably did most things to excess.’ He laughed and I conjured up a mental image of them both; partying, living life to the full, two young men at the top of their game. ‘Three years in that job was more than enough for me. When I’d made enough money I quit. Tom’s still there though, he rode the storm out.’

‘Oh right. So what is it you do now then?’

‘I’ve an art gallery in town. The Woodland Studios? I represent a few artists locally and nationally, and sell online too. I paint a bit myself too when I get the time, which I have to admit isn’t that often these days.’

‘So quite a change from what you were doing before then?’

‘Yep. Completely different. Now I’m doing something I really love.’

I took a sip from my glass of white wine, resolving to make it my last. I was just teetering on the edge of that nicely fuzzy-headed mellow stage and knew that any more might tip me over into the ‘a-step-too-far’ stage, and I wasn’t sure Alex was ready for that. I gave him a sneaky sideways glance, hoping he might not notice, but our eyes met for a split second and a warm sensation filled my chest. Too late, I was definitely on the squiffy side of mellow now.

So I had no idea if Alex was a sophisticated hard-edged city type or a creative arty type, or more probably a compelling mixture of both. Whatever he was, and despite his dodgy views on marriage, I think I liked him. He had an air of authority about him, a quiet self-assuredness that radiated from his body. A confidence that came from knowing he was good at what he did. He had an artist’s hands too, I noticed; long expressive fingers that moved in an oddly compelling way as he spoke.

‘What do you do then?’ he asked casually.

I work in a garden centre.

The words caught at the back of my throat, refusing to come out. I’d never been embarrassed to say them before, so why I was hesitating now I didn’t know. Instead I opted for the glorified version, hating myself for doing so and wondering why I was even bothering. I mean, it wasn’t as if I was out to impress Alex.

‘I’m a buyer – luxury goods, gifts, for a large store.’

‘Ah, okay,’ said Alex, looking suitably satisfied with my answer. He had this weird way of nodding in silent approval when I answered a question, as though he was secretly interviewing me for a job, one I didn’t know I’d even applied for. He was just about to ask me something else when Nana Gladys interrupted. She turned around, a big smile on her face.

‘So can we expect you two lovely young people to be next?’

‘Sorry?’

‘Will you two be getting married next?’ she said, just at the moment when a complete silence fell around the table and all eyes turned to look at us.

‘Ah well,’ said Alex, giving Gladys the benefit of his warm genuine smile. ‘As much as that is a very tempting proposition, Jen and I have only just met today so I think it might be a little bit too soon to be talking along those lines, although you never know.’

A ripple of laughter ran round the table.

‘What do you say, Jen?’ He fixed his gaze upon me, his blue/green/brown eyes shining with mischievous intent and I looked away – not wanting him to see the flush of heat colouring my cheeks. He leant in closer, whispering in my ear. ‘Weren’t you just saying you thought that might be a good idea?’

‘Stop it,’ I hissed, turning my attention back to Gladys.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she said, laughing.

Admittedly it was hot in the restaurant, but now Gladys was blushing like a teenager, showing the tell-tale signs of a rush of heat spreading up from her neck to her cheeks. I’d only known Alex a matter of hours, but I suspected he might have this effect on a lot of women.

‘I could have sworn you two were a couple. You look so right together. Don’t they make a lovely couple, Betty?’

‘Oh yes they do. Lovely.’

Thankfully, saving us any more embarrassment, Angie and Tom were making signs to move at the other end of the table and the attention was deflected onto them where it should most rightfully have been.

It had been the most wonderful wedding breakfast. We’d had mouthwatering desserts of croquembouche and lemon posset, followed by a selection of continental cheeses. Angie’s father had stood up and said a few words and if he’d harboured any bad feeling towards Tom then he certainly didn’t show it. Tom gave a heartfelt speech which had most of the women in the room close to tears. He talked of his love for Angie and how he was the luckiest man on the planet to be given a second chance with the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. No one in that room could have been in any doubt as to Tom’s complete and utter devotion to his bride, or Angie’s to her groom as her eyes shone with love and affection.