(the only one who hadn’t yet taken the plunge) and told her not to worry. Whatever it looked like, this was right for me.
And there was Keith in front of us, more than a little drunk himself, his face shiny with sweat and delight. He put his arms round the two of us and squeezed tightly. ‘I’m such a lucky man,’ he was saying, somewhat indistinctly. ‘Not only do I get this fabulous girl, I get all her fabulous sisters as well!’
Lucy extricated herself, with further congratulatory mumblings to Keith, while I remained locked in his embrace. ‘I’m so happy, Kate,’ he whispered into my ear.
‘Oh, me too, Keith, me too.’
‘I cannot wait until you’re my wife!’
‘Slow down there a while. We have to get used to being engaged first.’
‘I’m used to it already,’ he said, nuzzling my neck, ‘I feel like I’ve been engaged to you for ever.’
‘Well,’ I said twisting myself round to face him, ‘I’m not. I want to enjoy this time. I want to do it properly.’
‘OK, my love. Whatever you want. You shall have whatever you want.’
‘Come on,’ I said to him, ‘let’s find some of your friends. They’re a happy bunch. They think it’s really cool that you’re getting married.’
And so we joined Paul and Jack and Aiden, an accountant, a tax inspector and a chemical engineer, who treated me as if I was some kind of exotic plant and their friend as if he was James Bond. We had more to drink before eventually stumbling home to bed. We slept very soundly, very contentedly. The sleep of the newly engaged.
2
It always annoys me when people start talking about families and the positions of the children. They get it totally wrong as far as my family is concerned. The oldest is supposed to be sensible and proper and the middle child traumatized, while the youngest is the pet, loved and spoiled by everyone. Well, our oldest, Jean, has been known to behave less than sensibly on occasion, and our middle two, Lucy and Anna, are delightfully sane, and nobody, not sane, mad, traumatized or otherwise, has ever spoiled me.
Then people start talking about the gaps and say that makes the real difference. When she was pregnant with Jean my mother read a book that suggested the perfect gap between your babies was two years, so that was what she strove for. Having six babies, I’m amazed she strove for anything, but my mother is a very strong woman. However, the two-year thing didn’t quite work out. I’ve lost track of how old the rest of my sisters are, but between me and number five there is considerably less than a year. So, you see, Ruth was supposed to be the youngest and she was the one doted upon and spoiled. I arrived completely unasked-for (apparently Mum and Dad had decided they had enough and began to practise the rhythm method) and, to be frank, I kind of got forgotten about.
Of course I don’t mean that I wasn’t fed or changed, or brought to the doctor when I was sick, my parents aren’t criminals. I think they were just parented-out by the time I came along. And it didn’t help that Ruth was a difficult child. She had all the diseases – colic, asthma, food allergies (lactose and yeast), measles, mumps, rubella. She carries their legacy with her still and she’s as strong as an ox. I have always been remarkably healthy myself, but for years I tried desperately to break something, anything: leg, arm, collarbone, wrist. My entire sports career was based around breaking something, but that was just as unsuccessful as my sports career.
However, being somewhat neglected as a child has probably left me a little needy. I’m the last one to navel-gaze, I believe you should just get on with things, but if I were to psychoanalyse myself for five minutes I’m sure my issues with men come down to a lack of attention in the play-pen.
Such thoughts were with me as I strolled across the new bridge towards the North Circular Road on the Sunday morning following my engagement party. Keith felt it was important we arrive before noon. Otherwise we might appear sloppy. I kept having to pull him back to stop him striding away from me. He thinks my family’s marvellous. He thinks there’s something innately good about a large family, especially one that’s all girls. He’s from a gaggle of two boys. (That’s one good thing – in