How can she dump this guy?
The new guy at work might do, she thinks. Or maybe the guy she keeps seeing in the bar on Friday nights.
‘Would you like to order some drinks first?’ asks the waitress.
He looks up from his menu. ‘Shall we get a bottle of wine?’ he asks. ‘Red?’
She looks at him but can’t focus on his face, the flame of the candle is in the way. She’ll have a headache later.
‘Yes, wine would be great,’ she says. ‘You choose.’
‘Let’s try something different for a change.’ He scans the wine list. ‘The Nederburg, I think. Shiraz.’
‘A good choice, sir.’
There’s the guy she sees in the mornings too but it’s difficult to talk to someone on the train, especially at that time.
Affairs haven’t always worked for her in the past either. Simon simply forgave her while Tom went out and ‘evened up the score’. That wasn’t the point. Not at all.
‘It might help if you look at the menu,’ he suggests.
‘What, darling?’ She reaches over and gently touches his arm.
‘I said: it might help you to decide if you look at the menu.’
‘Oh, yes, of course. But why don’t you order for both of us. You know what I like.’ She knows he wants her to say this anyway. She knows he has a plan, she saw him take a waiter aside when they came in, give him some cash. It’ll probably be in the ice cream, she thinks. That’s what Brian did and she nearly choked. She’d better be careful this time.
Thinking of Brian reminds her. She went to Ibiza with Julie instead of the altar with him. That’s where she met Peter. She argued with Peter about everything: the cake, the church, his shoes, his mother, until he couldn’t take it anymore.
The starters arrive before she’d even heard him order. Oysters. That old one. One of them is already gaping open a little more than the others. The ring must be in there. She’ll leave it till last.
Oysters, she thinks, and nearly laughs. He’s obviously hoping for a little more than a ‘yes’ answer tonight. And that’s when she gets her idea. She’ll insist, she decides, on being a ‘virgin’ bride. No more sex till after the wedding. Poor David. He really won’t be happy.