Angela: ‘Of course, it’s very unusual to get engaged without a ring. When my sister got engaged they’d had the ring for ages. Six whole months! They got it when they were working in Dubai. Diamonds are much cheaper over there so they were able to get a much bigger one than they could have afforded if they’d got it here. I mean, her fiancé has a very good job – he’s a manager in Intel – but diamonds are so expensive now and you never really know what you’re paying for. It’s platinum. Gold is out now. It’s all platinum. I suppose you’re getting platinum?’
‘I mean, why not? Everybody gets married eventually. Or wants to, eventually. What’s the big deal? Marry him. You’ll be happy, or you won’t. Either way, it’s not the end of the world. He’s perfectly fine. Better than most. It’ll do you good. Just don’t get carried away. That’s where people go wrong. They start expecting too much. It’s not Sex and the City. It’s much more like your mother says it is. But it’s still better than a lot of things.’ That was Colette.
O’Flaherty’s was buzzing. Or maybe it was me. Something was making a ferocious noise inside my head. Maybe that was the Jack Daniel’s. Or maybe it was the Coke. Coca-Cola. Friday night is always a buzzy night in town. It’s a night for the working people. Students go out on a Thursday, the leisured on a Saturday. It’s something to do with all that steam being let off mixed with perfume and deodorant and the air of expectation. Even girls who haven’t gone home after work have tarted up their office gear. Buttons have been opened, skirts hoisted up, bellies revealed. And the men – they’re loud and sweaty and deeply attractive. I looked around and thought I’d happily snog the head off several of them. But every time I looked around Keith was there, smiling idiotically and laying his hands all over me. He was like a half-witted octopus.
I kept saying to myself, over and over and over, that this was my engagement party but it was like that dozy cow said: it’s so strange to get engaged without a ring. I began to wonder what kind of a ring I might like. Diamonds are clearly the best but they’re so boring. Oh, what a lovely solitaire! Oh, what a lovely diamond cluster! I like the coloured stones but they’re so old-fashioned. I think I’ll have a ruby studded with sapphires and encrusted with emeralds. That would be very nice. I’ll have it specially made by a designer in Bangladesh. Yes, that’s what I’ll have.
And that wasn’t all. If I really was going to get married there would be a whole wedding to plan. Hotels, bridesmaid dresses, cakes, cars, honeymoons. Yes, we’d have to have a honeymoon. I was in need of a holiday. A little continental sun would relax me no end. I wondered if we could get away with a little pre-honeymoon holiday, an engagement break? After all, weddings are supposed to be incredibly stressful. We’d need to build ourselves up.
I was looking for Keith to put this to him when Lucy nabbed me. Her sweet face was wrinkled with concern. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘it’s not that I’m not happy for you, or that I don’t want you to be happy and I definitely don’t want to spoil the happiest night of your life so far, but you really have me worried. And Marion too. You know how we never like to agree on anything but she’s as bothered as I am. You don’t love him, Kate.’ She fixed me with her deep opal eyes and pleaded with me to come to my senses.
Unfortunately, despite my love for Lucy and my general high regard for her opinions, I wasn’t budging. The drunker I got and the more people gave me advice, the more I was warming to the idea of marrying Keith. Being engaged and getting married were very exciting. It was nice to be the centre of attention for a while. It was about time my family looked at me for a change. I might be the youngest of the brood, the runt of the litter, but my time had come. I was taking control and I was getting married. To Keith. Keith was my choice. And that was that.