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Having talked about things while we were in New York, A and I decided that we were going to spend Saturday afternoon in Sidmouth. We arrived and discovered the weather wasn't very good; it was a typical Devon drizzle which, while not quite cold, was unpleasant and enough to get you saturated in next to no time, especially given the strong wind. Without discussing things, we had lunch at the Mocha restaurant on the front, where the food is cafe-style and excellent, and watched various frazzled families come and go, in various states of wet misery.
After lunch, we wandered through the town and looked in a few shop windows, including that of AJ Mountstephen, where we'd admired a few tasteful sapphires on previous visits. This time, the moment having come, we went in and A tried on a few things to see what she liked and what suited. Fortunately, with one exception, everything fitted and she opted for something that was extremely nice and which lacked the showly tastelessness of some of the more American things we'd seen on holiday.
With that done, we walked back along the beach and coast path towards Jacob's Ladder. This turned out to be a bit of a mistake because by this point the wind had strengthened and the rain was coming down in earnest. We ducked into one of the little caves under the cliff. There, sheltering from the rain, I asked A to marry me. And she said yes. It was the easiest question I've every asked.
After enjoying the moment for as long as the weather allowed us, we started walking back to the car. Half way there, we were struck by a problem: how do you tell people you've just got engaged? How do you tell your parents? How do you tell your fiancee's parents? (Because I wasn't traditional enough to ask C's permission first — I can well imagine what he'd have said if I had!)
Eventually, we settled for stopping for tea at Dart's Farm to give C time to return from a regimental reunion, and, once we thought we'd waited long enough, we returned via the supermarket, where we bought a bottle of good champagne, and returned to the homestead.
On arrival, we found J frantically searching for a CD with photos for her parents' 60th wedding anniversary calendar and C not yet returned. There then followed a series of almost farsical scenes with A going upstairs in search of a jumper that she could pull down over her hands, while I assisted with the hunt and tried not to give too much away. Fortunately, C returned shortly after and, during a break in the search, A came downstairs and said, "You need to stop searching and put this in the fridge..." holding out a bottle of Bollinger. There was a brief pause, J said, "Does this mean..." and checked A's hand and squeaked, and suddenly everyone was hugging and the dogs were excited and barking.
Under some pressure from A — I'd suggested waiting until Sunday morning — I phoned my parents and told them the good news. My dad was as unflappable as ever. When I said I'd asked A to marry me, he asked, "Did she say yes?" And when I confirmed it, he said, "Did she hesitate for a very long time?" My mother, on the other hand, was far more excited, although enthusiasm was somewhat undercut by her getting my name wrong — she used my nephew's name, probably because he was in the room with her at the time. My nephew was also very pleased and said, "It's about time! It took you long enough..."
And for the record, A found the CD with the photos on it exactly where she expected to find it: in the in-tray on the desk in the study, where her mother had seen it and discounted it because it wasn't in a yellow Snappy Snaps envelope!
After lunch, we wandered through the town and looked in a few shop windows, including that of AJ Mountstephen, where we'd admired a few tasteful sapphires on previous visits. This time, the moment having come, we went in and A tried on a few things to see what she liked and what suited. Fortunately, with one exception, everything fitted and she opted for something that was extremely nice and which lacked the showly tastelessness of some of the more American things we'd seen on holiday.
With that done, we walked back along the beach and coast path towards Jacob's Ladder. This turned out to be a bit of a mistake because by this point the wind had strengthened and the rain was coming down in earnest. We ducked into one of the little caves under the cliff. There, sheltering from the rain, I asked A to marry me. And she said yes. It was the easiest question I've every asked.
After enjoying the moment for as long as the weather allowed us, we started walking back to the car. Half way there, we were struck by a problem: how do you tell people you've just got engaged? How do you tell your parents? How do you tell your fiancee's parents? (Because I wasn't traditional enough to ask C's permission first — I can well imagine what he'd have said if I had!)
Eventually, we settled for stopping for tea at Dart's Farm to give C time to return from a regimental reunion, and, once we thought we'd waited long enough, we returned via the supermarket, where we bought a bottle of good champagne, and returned to the homestead.
On arrival, we found J frantically searching for a CD with photos for her parents' 60th wedding anniversary calendar and C not yet returned. There then followed a series of almost farsical scenes with A going upstairs in search of a jumper that she could pull down over her hands, while I assisted with the hunt and tried not to give too much away. Fortunately, C returned shortly after and, during a break in the search, A came downstairs and said, "You need to stop searching and put this in the fridge..." holding out a bottle of Bollinger. There was a brief pause, J said, "Does this mean..." and checked A's hand and squeaked, and suddenly everyone was hugging and the dogs were excited and barking.
Under some pressure from A — I'd suggested waiting until Sunday morning — I phoned my parents and told them the good news. My dad was as unflappable as ever. When I said I'd asked A to marry me, he asked, "Did she say yes?" And when I confirmed it, he said, "Did she hesitate for a very long time?" My mother, on the other hand, was far more excited, although enthusiasm was somewhat undercut by her getting my name wrong — she used my nephew's name, probably because he was in the room with her at the time. My nephew was also very pleased and said, "It's about time! It took you long enough..."
And for the record, A found the CD with the photos on it exactly where she expected to find it: in the in-tray on the desk in the study, where her mother had seen it and discounted it because it wasn't in a yellow Snappy Snaps envelope!
