Ben. Even now, six months into their relationship, her heart still skipped and her tummy still looped in anticipation of seeing him.
A glance at her watch made her quicken her step. He wanted to show her the market where he’d begun his business; their plan was to browse the stalls and then have lunch. A lovely ordinary and yet extraordinary way to spend the day before picking Jodie up from Gemma’s.
Jodie had taken Ben into her heart with an instinctive trust and Sarah had watched the love between them deepen and blossom with a happy heart. Telling Jodie a bit more about Kevin had been easier with Ben there to support her, and the knowledge that Ben would always be there for Jodie warmed her.
Arriving at the market, she looked around at the hustle and bustle, the laden tables, the calls and cries of the traders. She imagined a younger Ben in his element, desperate to make money for his mother—his lovely mother, who had welcomed both Sarah and Jodie with open arms.
Lost in thought, it took a few seconds for the sound of a familiar voice to penetrate her consciousness.
‘Roll up, roll up, ladies and gents! Because today is a special day—a very, very special day—and I’d like to invite you all to see what I am offering. It’s a one-off, ladies and gents. A never to be repeated offer.’
Sarah blinked, turned and studied the dark-haired man, dressed in a checked shirt and jeans, standing behind a table. The table was nearly empty and yet already people had drifted towards the show.
‘Ah, the very woman I’m after! You with the glorious red hair!’
Sarah gave a half gasp, half laugh. It was undoubtedly Ben, though what he was doing she had no idea.
‘That’s it. Come over. Because without you the show’s finished.’
And so she walked towards the table—towards the man she loved.
‘Roll up, roll up! This is the moment you’ve been waiting for! It’s certainly the moment I’ve been waiting for. Because today I have only one item on display and it’s not for sale, ladies and gents. It’s on offer. But only to this one woman. The woman I love.’
And then he picked up the sole item on the table—a blue velvet box—vaulted over the tabletop and went down on one knee in front of her, opening the box with a flourish.
‘Sarah Fletcher, will you marry me?’
As she looked down at him her heart turned over with love. ‘I will.’
He sprang to his feet as their audience burst into applause and slipped the ring onto her finger. It was a simple, exquisite cluster of diamonds.
‘Not a solitaire,’ he said. ‘Because neither of us will ever be alone.’
And, to the delight of the spectators, Sarah threw her arms around him and kissed him as though her very life depended on it.
* * *