The Proposal

‘Thank you for coming, George. Thank you for caring.’

‘I was worried about you. We drove through the night to get here before the day’s weddings started.’

Sally looked anxious.

‘We? My family aren’t with you, are they?’

‘No. Edward Carlyle. He drove me up here. All through the night.’

Sally nodded thoughtfully.

‘Then he’s handsome and kind and good and I know he adores you.’

‘I wish it were true,’ said Georgia, shrugging her shoulders. ‘But he has a girlfriend and I think he sees me as this silly little debutante he has to keep saving. Maybe he has some psychological condition . . .’

‘But are you in love with him?’

She looked up and nodded.

‘Then go and tell him. Right now. Don’t stop and think about it. Just tell him.’

‘What about you?’ asked Georgia, her heart thumping out of her chest.

‘I’ve found love. Now it’s your turn, and what better place to be true to your heart than here. GO!’ she ordered.

Georgia went back into the dining room, but Edward had left.

‘Your husband asked me to tell you he has gone upstairs,’ said the waitress, clearing away the plates of mackerel.

‘Remind me of our room numbers,’ Georgia said. The waitress checked her list of diners.

‘Sixteen and seventeen,’ she replied.

Georgia followed the signs and knocked on the door of number sixteen on the first floor. It was a few moments before it creaked open. Edward stood there with slightly ruffled hair and sleepy eyes.

‘Can I come in?’ she asked.

‘Sorry. Your room key,’ he said, rubbing his face.

Her eyes skirted over the rumpled bed and she felt a flood of excitement and nerves.

‘So how is she?’ asked Edward anxiously. ‘She’s not married yet, is she?’

‘She’s fine. Sally is fine. They can’t marry for at least two weeks and she knows all about Gianni. Always has done, but she loves him. It’s that simple.’

‘Is it?’ said Edward, rubbing his cheek.

‘We always hope love is simple, but sometimes it’s not, is it?’

‘No, it’s not,’ he replied softly.

‘Why are you here?’ she whispered, closing the bedroom door behind her, willing herself to stay strong. ‘Everything we have done together suggests that . . . suggests that you like me. I know you have a girlfriend, and I know she is probably very smart and rich and beautiful, but sometimes that’s not everything. Sometimes it’s about two people who just feel happy being together, and when that happens, those two people should be together.’

He didn’t reply immediately, and the silence spun embarrassingly around the room.

‘Georgia, I don’t like you,’ he said finally.

‘Oh,’ she said, feeling her courage desert her and her heart shatter.