May 26th, 1991

May 26th, 1991

Excelsior Hotel, Heathrow Airport

Had to dash home from the night flight to meet Sarah for bridesmaid dress shopping, which was a bit of a joke as Sarah had already pretty much decided what Suzanna and I will wear. The dress looks like robin egg blue met pale pink, got drunk and threw up all over each other. Yes, delightful! As if that isn’t bad enough, it hugs me in all the wrong places which is another way of saying I feel really fat in it.

Came back to the hotel, feeling pretty depressed at the thought of being seen in something so hideous and couldn’t wait to sleep. There were a bunch of people checking in ahead of me and I thought I might fall asleep standing up, ‘til I heard Annabel’s distinctive dulcet tones wafting in my direction.

She clocked my ring right away. “David isn’t gay after all?”

It took me a second to figure out what she was talking about before realizing she thought my ring was from David! Last November, on that dreaded day, I bumped into Annabel in the hotel lobby in Santa Monica and she really helped me get through the rest of the day. I told her there was too much to explain so we decided to go for a drink and ended up in Windsor, where Annabel wasted no time ordering a bottle of champagne. “My treat, my treat” she gushed. “So much to talk about!”

Annabel appreciated the antique aspect of my ring and asked if it had been passed down.
“Nope! I have no idea who it belonged to before, I just know I love it.”

She went on to ask more questions that mum does, about pretty much everything, which kept the conversation lively. I never get bored with Annabel and her rapid tongue, she really is great company and bumping into her was a lovely surprise.

 

 

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