Out and Proud

by Lisa Young

  After they had eaten their fill, Alice excused herself, disappearing back to the room and mumbling something about needing a quick trip to the loo before the coach left. Lottie hastily took the opportunity to pop the ring out from inside her jacket pocket, smiling she gave it a final polish with her sleeve and hoped the size of the diamond would be acceptable to Alice, who had always remained understated in the jewellery department, preferring white gold to the more expensive metals.

  Glancing at her phone, she chuckled as she scanned the many text messages from her well-wishing friends all offering last-minute advice. From Virginia, a simple message.

  Lol, watch out for pickpockets and don’t forget the ring, will ya? Good luck! Xx

  Catching sight of Alice returning she hurriedly deposited her phone into the secure pocket in the backpack. Noticing that Alice was smiling broadly, Lottie gave her a quizzical look.

  “You left the bloody strap-on in the middle of the bedroom floor. That would have given the cleaner more excitement than she bargained for!” Alice said.

  Lottie chuckled, it seemed as though that particular piece of equipment was always going to be a source of never-ending embarrassment.

  As they waited for the bus, she secretly revelled in the knowledge that Alice had no idea what lay ahead of her on this bright and beautiful day. A day to remember, that’s for sure. She was literally bursting with anticipation and didn’t know how she was possibly going to contain her excitement for the rest of the morning.

  Boarding the coach, she followed Alice down the narrow aisle, mentally revisiting her hasty rush the day before. She fervently hoped the coach driver had cleaned toilet and emptied the tank in time for their full day on the bus. She didn’t much fancy further trips to the smelly cubicle if it hadn’t been cleaned and disinfected. Even more mortifying would be listening to the other passengers’ whispered conversations, as they debated who might have been responsible for the mess.

  She was interrupted from her train of thought as a red-faced, spotty young man dived in front of her, bringing her to an abrupt halt as he sank to his knees and rummaged around underneath the adjacent row of seats. Bobbing down beside him Lottie took in his breathless state, as he met her eyes briefly and apologetically, he was frantically mouthing something to her that she couldn’t quite understand.

  Desperate for help, he mouthed more clearly. “I’ve dropped my bloody ring!”

  Leaning closer to catch what he said, she caught a whiff of his mint scented breath and the overpowering odour of his strong, cheap aftershave, which didn’t quite mask the stale aroma of his manly sweat.

  Feeling instant empathy for her fellow proposer and for their shared anxiety, she fell to her knees beside him and blindly groped underneath the nearest seat. Running her hand along the firm nylon bristle carpeting her hand glided across something which was a solid metal object. Wondering if this could be the lost item, she pulled it into the daylight for closer examination. What she held was a simple, yet elegant, silver band, as she turned it in her hand she noted the inner inscription, will you marry me?

  Forgetting his manners, the anxious-faced youth grabbed greedily at the ring as visible relief flooded him. “That’s my ring! Thank fuck! I really thought I’d lost it,” he muttered to no one in particular.

  Closing his eyes briefly, he gave a silent prayer of thanks, and then remembering his saviour, he opened his eyes and grinned broadly at Lottie. Their eyes locked for a moment as a mutual understanding of their individual missions passed between them.

  Lottie took control of the situation, aware that his unsuspecting bride-to-be was oblivious to the drama, engrossed in taking selfies against the bus window while pointing at the hotel.

  Dragging the traumatised youth to his feet while struggling to hide the tide of pity she felt for him, she leaned forward and whispered with what she hoped was reassurance and genuine warmth. “Bloody beautiful that is. She’s a lucky girl. Now put it away safely!”

  Lottie felt a rush of pride, as she realised it was likely that she had saved his day. She pushed away the rising smugness, as she silently acknowledged that it was inevitable that her advanced years and life experience would surely mean that she would make the much better and more proficient proposer of the two of them. Patting her own ring, she slipped into her seat beside Alice who also, surprisingly, appeared to be engrossed in taking a similar selfie.

  Lottie hadn’t failed to notice that Alice had become much more interested in her phone since they had landed on foreign soil. Knowing Alice well enough to know that she was not one for technology, Lottie could only assume she was being bothered by work matters. In fact, Lottie was a little irritated that Alice had disappeared yesterday evening to take, what she assumed was a work phone call, and she had vowed to tackle her about her inability to switch off on their precious few days alone, when they got home. Glancing towards the back as the coach lurched into life she caught the eye of the young lad, who it appeared, had belatedly remembered his manners as he shot her a grateful glance before hastily taking his seat beside his potential betrothed.

  Their morning tour of Paris passed by in a whirl as the happy pair hopped on and off the bus, taking numerous photographs alongside the Arc de Triomphe, and later at Notre Dame. The sun shone ever brighter as it rose and burned off the early morning haze causing the temperature to increase. As they were whisked from location to location, every so often a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower could be seen in the distance, causing gasps of delight and squeals of excitement from the group of travellers. Alice beamed happily and squeezed Lottie’s hand tightly.

  Finally, the magnificent steel structure came into close view. The bus negotiated its way towards the parking area and the driver noisily announced they would shortly be making their lunch stop at the Tower. Lottie listened carefully as he instructed that all those who had ordered a picnic lunch should meet him at the rear of the coach for collection.

  “Please enjoy your time at this beautiful attraction,” his codriver hastily added, grabbing the microphone. “We will all be meeting back at the coach at two sharp. Also, please be aware that pickpockets do unfortunately operate in this area and we would advise you to place all valuables to the front of your person. While you may feel a bit silly ladies and gentlemen, rucksacks should ideally be worn on your front.”

  Lottie immediately jumped up from her seat, then panicked as she was pulled back into her seat by Alice.

  “What’s the hurry, sweetie? Let the older lot get off first.”

  Lottie placated her with a smile, before ignoring her and pushing her way into the stream of fellow travellers anxious to get off the coach. Frantically, she clutched at her rucksack and wiggled it violently, until she had managed to reverse it onto her front.

  “You’re kidding, right?” said Alice. “You haven’t got the crown bloody jewels in there have you?” Chuckling, she playfully pinched Lottie’s bottom. “Come on then, miss. You promised me a picnic lunch!”

  Patting the front pocket of her rucksack one final time, Lottie was happy that she could identify the outline of the ring box. Reassured, she followed Alice round to the rear of the coach where they collected their picnic basket and headed for the green, perfectly manicured lawns which encased the grounds of the magnificent tower.

  Lottie took a moment to marvel at how impressive the grounds were before they headed in the direction of the tower. The midday sun beat down on them and the bright cloudless sky provided an impressive frame to the backdrop around the iconic structure. As they came close enough to get a proper view, Lottie wondered at the sunlight, as it danced rhythmically on the inner rungs like a tune of light, and the reflection provided a rainbow of colours shimmering outwards to meet the heat of the Parisian day. Edging forward, Lottie felt the structure was enticing her with the delicious anticipation of the proposal!

  Alice chuckled at the sight of Lottie walking openmouthed and very tourist-like towards the tower. Excited to get n
earer for photo opportunities, she began walking slightly ahead of Lottie, happily snapping away using a variety of angles and lenses to capture to the best effect of the glinting steel structure. Lottie saw that, lost in her photography, Alice was gradually becoming less aware of Lottie and her whereabouts. In the meantime, Lottie was trying to manage her rising anxiety levels as she glanced around, trying and failing, to identify a private spot to set up the picnic.

  She was surprised by how crowded it was, and she had not anticipated such a public arena for her proposal. Around her, for as far as her eye could see, was a seamless wave of tightly packed bodies, all moving as one in the direction of the main area underneath the Tower. Approaching it, she saw that they filtered into two enormous snaking queues to purchase tickets to go up the tower itself.

  Alice, seemingly oblivious to Lottie’s dilemma, and lost in her photography, had wandered quite a distance ahead. Lottie spotted her, but she was alarmed to notice a small group of Eastern European women were beginning to surround Alice. The warning of the coach driver about pickpockets echoed in her ears as she feared that her distracted girlfriend was about to provide the pickpockets with easy pickings and so she hurried to catch up with the oblivious Alice.

  “No, thank you!” she barked loudly and firmly and dispatched the unwanted women, who it transpired, were in fact touting their poorly produced plastic Eiffel Tower souvenirs. The women dissolved back into the faceless crowd, and Alice smiled at her gratefully for a moment, but undeterred by her brush with the Eiffel Tower underworld, she continued to scout for photographic opportunities.

  Feeling rather protective of her soon to be fiancée, Lottie stood back and allowed Alice to finish her circuit of the base of the tower. Alice gave her a cheery wave and Lottie waved back blowing her a heartfelt air kiss. She idly watched Alice, glancing around at her surroundings, confirming that her hope of a quiet proposal was doubtful. The throng of people ebbed and flowed, moving as a single entity, and Lottie accepted that she was going to struggle to separate herself and Alice from the tourist madness that surrounded the world-famous attraction. Momentarily blinded by the sun, Lottie blinked hard. She had lost sight of Alice. Reeling around in a slow circle, a rising panic gripped her. Where the bloody hell had she gone?

  She spotted an opening in the crowd and headed into the stream of moving people, hoping the tide would draw them back together. Searching the faces in the crowd, she looked for Alice. Unexpectedly, Lottie’s chest exploded with a sudden pain as she realised she had experienced a significant impact as she collided into a shadowy figure, and she briefly wondered why he was working his way in opposition to the natural flow of the people.

  Winded by the ferocity of the unexpected collision, Lottie was glad she had turned her rucksack around as it had provided something of a cushion. Nevertheless, she had been badly winded and had momentarily lost her balance. She wobbled, attempting to regain her balance the man reached out and firmly grasped her by the arm.

  Without making eye contact, he worked to steer her back into the flow, and as she was taken by the tide of the crowd he mumbled, “Pardon, madam,” in a heavy French accent—his deep husky voice just what she would have expected from a Parisian— before he melted away, and the crowd drew her onward.

  With no time to contemplate the unpleasant encounter, Lottie pushed onward and eventually located Alice, who was leaning nonchalantly against the outer leg of the Tower.

  “About bloody time! I’m starving,” Alice joked as she reached to take the picnic basket from the sweat-soaked Lottie.

  As they moved away from the crowd, a light breeze broke through the heat of the afternoon. Lottie drank in the sight of Alice, lithe and willowy in her khaki cut-offs and her sport branded T-shirt. Suddenly, the moment seemed to take on a life of its own—as Alice squinted in the sunlight and beamed broadly at Lottie. Lottie seized the moment and dropped to one knee on the grass directly in front of her.

  Reaching into the front of her rucksack Lottie rummaged for the ring, Shit, I should have had it in my hand ready, she thought with irritation.

  “What on earth…?”

  Frantically rummaging around, her face creased with concern as Lottie registered that the front pocket containing the ring was already wide open. Worse still, it appeared that the contents must have spilled out at an unknown location somewhere behind her on the concourse.

  Looking around with terror, she could only see that the immediate area around her was a sea of feet which showed remarkably little concern about the unfolding drama.

  Suddenly, the cold hard realisation hit her like a stone in the pit of her stomach. It’s gone, fuck, fuck, fuck! It’s gone!

  Inwardly she groaned.

  That man, he must have been a pickpocket! “Pardon, madam” my arse! He had bloody robbed her!

  Oblivious to the unfolding drama, Alice joined her on her knees and busied herself setting out the picnic.

  Discovering the bottle of prosecco, she smiled gratefully at Lottie. “What a lovely picnic, and a great surprise with the wine, too. Romance is alive and well in Paris.”

  She leaned in to kiss Lottie, and a rumble of appreciation and acceptance emanated around them as onlookers fanned out to provide them with a small circle of space.

  Lottie sank back onto her heels, reeling with disappointment, as she realised the ring was lost. She managed to muster a weak smile as she met Alice’s eyes. “Well, romance is a must in Paris.”

  She picked up the bottle of uncorked alcohol and swigged greedily, her throat dry from the heat, the stress and the burning disappointment which rose up from the pit of her stomach.

  Struggling to hide her misery, she managed a wry grin. “Paris is certainly full of surprises, isn’t it?”

  Alice smiled back knowingly before turning her attention to the selection of bread and cheese that were waiting at the bottom of the picnic basket.

  Lottie barely touched a morsel. She had failed.

  As Alice finished the last of the cheese, they repacked the basket and Lottie felt as if her legs were filled with lead. She was devastated.

  How could her well-laid plans have gone so wrong?

  Luckily, her purse and other valuables had been inside the rucksack, so at least she wasn’t missing anything else, but how on earth was she going to propose now?

  Seemingly unaware of her girlfriend’s trauma, Alice chattered happily at her side as they made their way back to the waiting bus. Lottie clambered aboard, and on the front row was the spotty youth who made immediate eye contact with Lottie. Grinning widely from ear to ear he grabbed his partner’s hand.

  “We’re engaged, I’ve proposed!” he said, lifting it high with pride.

  Beside him, the blushing young girl bloomed with love and promise, as she allowed him to parade her ringed hand to the other passengers as they arrived back from their various adventures. An impromptu round of applause further encouraged him, and he stood up to take a bow, clearly struggling to believe that he’d actually pulled it off, after his earlier difficulties.

  Lottie mumbled her half-hearted congratulations as she moved past him to find her seat. Alice was clapping, joining in with the round of applause, before leaning in to Lottie. “Lovely to be proposed to in Paris. But talk about tacky! Who would propose under the Eiffel Tower? A bit naff!”

  Lottie was utterly lost for words. She swallowed loudly and managed to bluster. “Yes, bloody naff if you ask me!” She sank lower into her seat.

  Dear God, what on earth am I going to do now? She silently pleaded for divine inspiration. The insurance certificate was in the UK and she knew she could get a replacement ring at a later date, but for the moment things lay in ruins, and now it seemed that Alice would have found it all thoroughly awful anyway.

  What a bloody disaster!

  The bus pulled away jolting Lottie back to reality. Slipping her hand into Lottie’s, Alice turned and whispered in her ear. “Montmartre and the artist quarte
r next. Apparently, it’s the most romantic part of Paris.”

  Lottie laid her head on Alice’s shoulder and sighed loudly.

  “I have a place I’d like to go for dinner later on, if you don’t mind following me for a change,” Alice said, patting her leg reassuringly.

  Lottie nodded miserably. At this point she was quite sure that jumping from the Eiffel Tower was not an option, but if she could try to get through the rest of the trip, she was sure she could put things right at a later date. After all, there must be other places closer to home where she could propose, but oh, how embarrassing! She’d told so many people about the romantic proposal, and now she was going to have to tell them her sorry tale of woe, and everyone would be laughing at her. She hoped the boys wouldn’t be too disappointed that she’d botched it up. She’d have to take advice now from Virginia and the gang to see if she could come up with an alternative proposal venue at home that would make the cut.

  AS THE AFTERNOON sun idled high in the bluest of skies, Lottie’s spirits lifted. Away from the crowds, they meandered hand in hand through the cobbled streets of Montmartre. Colourful canopies sheltered the tourists who had stopped for refreshments on the pavement outside the cafés, as they made a lazy ascent to the Sacré-Cœur.

  They passed through the artist’s quarter and the small but busy square, inhabited by the portrait painters, admiring the concentration of talent in this one small part of Paris. Unknown smiling faces stared back at them from the display of finished canvasses that adorned the small stalls of the talented, who smiled at the couple as they passed through, hoping to entice them to a sitting.

  They left the blue umbrellas which sheltered the artists, and moved onward, up the incline and towards the whitewashed basilica which sat proudly at the top of the hill, boasting the best views of the city. Moving between the shade of the canopies and the bright sunshine, the pair drank in the sights.