A couple of months back i finally realised that, in Rekkah, i had found the person that i wanted to spend my life with. It came as a bit of a shock, i can tell you. For years i thought that short of Keira Knightley turning up and confessing undying love i’d never be prepared to get hitched.
Yet suddenly after over 18 months or so together, i knew this was the case and so, in around September, i decided to propose - which i finally did on the 21st December 2005.
I can’t remember why, but we actually wandered onto the subject of weddings and engagements in conversation around october time purely by accident - it was after i’d decided to propose but before i’d figured out what on earth i’d do for a ring. I couldn’t believe my luck at the time, because i had absolutely no frikkin’ idea what constituted an engagement ring, let alone what would appeal to her tastes. Suddenly here i was with a golden oppportunity to “innocently” enquire as to what - in the obviously unlikely and completely theoretical event that she was to get engaged - her ring preferences would be. It did cross my mind slightly that maybe i was being discreetly prepped should the situation ever arise (those female types can be pretty devious sometimes) but that didn’t matter. Suddenly i’d gone from not knowing the difference between an engagement ring and an onion ring to knowing that her ideal ring would be a subtle sapphire (not diamond) and platinum/white gold combination. I now even knew her ring size without having to indulge in the usual “ring theft and quick trip to the jewellers” that seems to be the standard approach for blokes trying to work out what size fingers their girlfriends have.
Back before i discovered that people would pay me to build websites, i used to work as a Glazier at the same Glass Company as my dad, it was kind of the “family trade.” I used to work the night-time call outs with him back then - mainly fixing up after break ins and people who’d lost their keys and had to smash a window. As luck would have it, a jeweller from back then owed us a favour and, after taking my dad into my confidence on what i was planning, i discovered said jeweller was still around and would happily put some options together for me.
Of course there was one teeny-tiny logistical problem:
I was in New York. The Jeweller was in a small town just north of London, England.
Over the next month or so, through a combination of emails, diagrams and some cunning use of a camera phone by my dad, we finally got to a point where the Jeweller was ready to put together something in line with what i wanted ahead of a brief trip back to London i was making in November. All that i’d need to do is slip away from the missus for an hour or so when i was back (without her suspecting anything) to check out the Jeweller’s progress and advise on any necessary changes and i’d be sorted!
Except slipping away from someone without arising suspicion isn’t as easy as you’d think. God knows how people having affairs manage it. There must be some kind of excuse resource out there for aspiring adulterers because i’ll be fucked if i could think of a good reason that wouldn’t inspire suspicion. Finally, i had an idea - early one morning i had my dad fake a callout and ask me to go help him. It worked like a charm and she suspected nothing, although she was pissed off at my apparent eagerness to leave our nice warm bed in order to do some work (which i could have done without!). Reaching the jewellers, i was pleasantly surprised to find that the ring was exactly what i was after! I paid for it then and there and made arrangements for my dad to pick it up for me after the necessary size adjustments had been made, as i was heading back to New York the next day.
In the pub that night i delightedly let a few close friends in on my big secret - that i was going to propose at Christmas.
A couple of weeks later, back in New York, i received a rather un-necessarily cryptic email (given that Rekkah was unlikely to be reading my emails, what with her still living in England and all) from my dad confirming that everthing was in place:
Cheers dad, way to make US Homeland Security think i’m a terrorist.
Jump forward to December 21st and i’ve just arrived at Heathrow to be greated by Rekkah. My plan was to ask her as soon as we got to my parents (we were heading there from the airport to stay with them for a few days). I was a bit nervous, but not as much as i’d thought i’d be. At least that was the case until, on the train ride home, she turned to me and said with a laugh:
“Was chatting to CurlyChick last night and she said that i should let her know if you got off the plane holding a blue tiffany’s bag so she could buy a new hat for the wedding. I told her there was no chance of us doing that!”
Cheers girl. Way to fill me with confidence.
Anyway, finally we get to my parents house and head up to the guest bedroom with our bags. Whilst her back was turned, I retrieved the small black ring bag from where my dad had hidden it and, holding it behind my back, decided it was now or never.
I’ve never been one for planned speeches, generally relying on something to pop into my head at the last moment. I’ve been pretty lucky - this approach hasn’t normally let me down, but for one brief horrifying second, as i stood in front of her with the small black jeweller’s bag clutched behind my back and not a single sane thought in my head i finally thought my luck had run out…
…then suddenly i had it.
Sitting down next to her on the bed i put my left hand gently on her shoulder and brought the bag out from behind my back with my right. She looked at it, then looked up at me, and i could see a hint of confusion in her eyes.
I smiled at her.
“Well its not blue i’m afraid…” I said, and handed her the bag…
