would that have sounded? Yes, of course I’ll marry you, but I hate the ring?’
He was about to say something but Jess decided that it might be better if she kept on talking. ‘I was so excited and so blown away by how romantic and how lovely it all was,’ she said gently, ‘The whole thing on the beach was so perfect, that the ring was – was –’ She felt around to find the right word without saying something that would make things any worse.
‘Almost secondary?’ suggested Max.
‘Something like that,’ said Jess. ‘It was such an amazing moment that I wasn’t really thinking about the ring at all, I was thinking about us – the future – all those things.’
‘So what kind of ring would you prefer? I want you to have something you like, obviously.’
‘Couldn’t we go and choose it together?’
Max looked uncomfortable. ‘Well, not really – I bought it from this little independent jewellery designer in Cambridge. Everything they make there is a one off. I’m not sure when they’re open. How about if you tell me the kind of thing you’d like and I’ll bring a selection of rings home and you can choose one?’
‘Or maybe we could call them, arrange to take a trip over there.’ Jess looked up at his face. ‘Surely they won’t let you just bring a tray of rings home?’
Max shifted his weight, looking ill at ease. ‘I’m almost certain they won’t mind. They know me there. I’ve bought quite a few things from them over the years, cufflinks and presents for friends and things for my mother. Christmases, birthdays. They’re very good. And I want it to be something special, not just picked from hundreds of others, massproduced, from any old jewellers.’
It struck Jess that Max didn’t want her to know how much the ring cost; that had to be why he didn’t want her to go and choose one for herself. The thought made her smile; he could so old-fashioned at times, bless him. Maybe this was the time to gratefully accept without pushing him any harder.
She took a deep breath. ‘That’s a lovely thought, Max, and I do appreciate it. If they’ll do that, then of course. Okay – it’ll be lovely.’
‘So what sort of ring would you like?’
Jess held out her hands for him to look at. ‘Something more delicate, not quite so chunky, maybe tiny diamonds or a solitaire. And maybe white gold? I’ve got quite small hands. What do you think?’
Max nodded. ‘Yes, of course, yes, you’re right.’ And for the first time since she had seen him by the car he smiled. ‘I promise I’ll sort that on Monday. And I’m sorry.’
‘For?’
‘For lying to you, for not choosing the right ring and I can see exactly what you mean about it not being right for you.’
‘You can?’
He nodded and then he kissed her gently. ‘I’ll put it right, I promise. Now I don’t know about you but I’m famished. How about I order us a take-away while you tell me all about how it went with your mother today?’
Molly meanwhile had settled back into a bath with only her head above the water. Nick had put bubbles in it that he’d bought her last time he was in Paris and the water smelt of freesias and honeysuckle.
She had a glass of wine on the go and was listening to Nina Simone’s voice rising up the stairs from the hi-fi in the sitting room below, the music as perfect and smooth as spun silk. ‘If we ever get married I’d like to have this at our wedding,’ Molly said.
‘I thought you were bored with organising weddings,’ said Nick from the other end of the bath. He’d got himself a margarita and a book propped up precariously on the soap rack.
‘Yes, but ours would be different. I wouldn’t have to worry about asking what anyone else wanted for a start.’
‘Oh, that’s nice,’ he said, pretending to take the hump. ‘So, I don’t get an opinion?’
‘You know what I mean – we could have just what we liked.’ She paused. ‘It seems so weird. My baby is getting married.’
‘So you said. It could be worse,’ Nick said. ‘She could be making you a granny.’
Molly ignored him. ‘And we don’t really know anything about Max.’
‘We don’t have to.’ Nick topped up the hot water.
‘It doesn’t seem fair that all those years have gone. One minute they’re just babies and then they’re at school and getting jobs and before you know it they’re getting married,’ said Molly, feeling the tears welling up. ‘It’s all gone too quickly. I’ve never organised anyone else’s wedding before. Looking at all those lists today, what exactly does the mother of the bride do?’
‘By the look on your face, mostly cry and panic.’
‘I totally misread this thing with Max and Jess – I didn’t think she was that serious about him.’
‘You don’t like him very much, do you?’
‘I don’t really know him,’ said Molly with affected coolness.
‘Molly?’ Nick looked sceptical.
‘Well, we’ve only seen him a couple of times, haven’t we? He just doesn’t seem Jess’s type at all.’
‘Maybe he’s her grown-up choice – like there’s a moment you stop going for gooey puddings and take the cheese and biscuits or start thinking that broccoli and broad beans are really nice?’
Molly raised her eyebrows. ‘So Max is Jess’s pick from the adult menu?’
‘Just a thought.’
Molly wasn’t convinced. ‘I suppose at least it means that Jessie is over Glenn.’
‘The one who went off to America?’
‘Broke her heart. I was really worried that after he went she might get back with Will – you remember the one who used to shred beer mats and tissues?’
‘Or go to Goa with Beano?’ said Nick.
‘Oh God, I’d forgotten about that. Beano is lovely though. He always reminds me of a daddy-longlegs; he’s so skinny and gangly.’
‘And can drink, smoke and snort his way through life with an enthusiasm that startled even the most robust of us. So, when’s Jess moving in with Max and do we need to hire a van?’
‘Apparently not, they’re waiting until after they’re married to move in together.’
‘A bit Victorian, isn’t it?’ said Nick.
‘Max is having his place redecorated, but the lease is up on the cottage Jess’s renting so she’s got to find somewhere. Mr Petrovsky, her landlord, is really nice, but he needs her to move out so that he can move his daughter and her husband and their new baby in.’ Molly sat up. ‘You don’t think that’s why
