August 19th, 1991
At home, England
One of the best things about having my own place is the luxury of spending as much time as I want on the phone without anyone (mum, for example) hovering, pretending to “dust this wee table,” just as the conversation’s about to move into juicy territory. So, with that said, I spent most of this rainy day on the phone;
“I’m sorry, who?” Sebastian teased.
“Very funny, you know what trolley dolly life’s like.”
“Oh, don’t I just,” he hollered. “My feet are still killing me, having just walked from L A to London. How’s the sparkler?”
The mention of LA made my mind wander. “How’s the what?”
“Your ring! Do you still get chatted up?”
“Actually, I’m not wearing it.”
“Oh my bridal gowns! That must be the fastest engagement ever!”
“Well…firstly, we didn’t actually get engaged and secondly-”
“You shagged Ben then felt guilty?”
“Something like that.”
“Ah, don’t worry, just blame it on a severe bout of jetlag and get the ring back on!”
Carl was next.
“I heard a rumour you’re no longer engaged.”
“Who told you that?”
“Somebody we trained with. Maybe.”
“Her name wouldn’t happen to start with L by any chance now, would it?”
He chuckled. “Might do.”
“Argh, Lorna. I told her that in confidence and just so you know, William and I didn’t actually get engaged, we-”
“Wait, let me get this straight, when a bloke buys a girl a ring it’s not an engagement?”
“There’s much more to it than that,” I huffed.
“Good to know. So, I take it Ben managed to inch his way back in?”
“Did you seriously just say that?”
Carl cracked up laughing.
“And no, Ben is notback in the picture.”
“Let me guess, he came round, smelled great, there was wine, there was music, it got late and-”
“Wow Carl, sounds like you were there.”
“Basic moves darling, basic moves.”