Suddenly the man rushed up to her and Finn, and to Abby’s horror looked behind him once more, before reaching into his jacket and pulling out a … well, it looked like some kind of box, she thought, relieved. She’d been sure it was a knife or a gun or some kind of weapon!
Now she stared at him, completely taken aback as he thrust the box or whatever it was into her hands.
“For you Mademoiselle,” he whispered, breathlessly.
“What …what are you doing?” Abby cried, troubled by the fact that unlike her, Finn didn’t seem to find any of this at all worrying, or in the least bit surprising. “What the hell is …?” But the rest of her sentence was left hanging in the air as the man raced off again, almost as quickly as he’d appeared.
Abby stared at Finn who seemed to be having trouble meeting her gaze as well as, she realised now, keeping the smile off his face.
“What is all this?” she pleaded, completely lost. She looked down at the object, which was indeed a box, a kind of wooden chest. And, she realised now, had a golden lock that looked suspiciously the same size as the key-shaped pendant she wore around her neck!
“Finn, what’s happening?” she gasped, feeling somewhat relieved now, as she understood that whatever kind of joke this was, he at least seemed to be in on it.
“I’m sorry,” he said now red-faced with suppressed laughter. “Your face … it’s such a picture. Anyway, aren’t you going to open that box?”
Taking a seat outside another nearby café, Abby sat the mini-chest in her lap, all the while stealing surreptitious glances at Finn to try and figure out what the hell was going on, and even more, what part he had to play in all of this.
She removed the chain from around her neck and using the key, deftly opened the box. Upon first glance it seemed empty, until then she noticed a piece of parchment inside.
Gotcha! How does dinner and a sunset cruise on the Seine tonight sound?
Love Finn. XXX
Abby stared at him, wide-eyed. “This–all of this was you? The portrait and the pendant and this …”
He smiled boyishly. “Surprise!”
“But how did you…?”
“Well it took a bit of arranging beforehand, but don’t you worry about that now,” he said with a grin. “So what do you think?”
“You’re amazing!” She held up the piece of parchment and read it again. “Well yes, dinner on the Seine sounds great!”
“Good, because that’s where we’re going tonight.”
“You did all this …just to tell me what we’re doing tonight?” Abby was completely blown away.
Now Finn was blushing. “Hey, I have to do something to make it memorable, don’t I?” he shrugged.
Hearing this, Abby was struck by desolation that he needed to go to such lengths because of her. Why couldn’t they be just like any other normal couple, and be able to enjoy Paris for what it was? Just enjoy being together without having to go to elaborate lengths like this. It wasn’t fair to him...
“What’s wrong?” Finn asked then, spotting her rapid change of mood. But when Abby confessed what she’d been thinking, he wasn’t having any of it.
“Don’t be silly, doing something like this makes everything a lot more fun and much more enjoyable, doesn’t it? And don’t forget, these are our memories too, so what’s wrong with making them memorable for both of us?
“You’re right,” Abby shook her head, stupefied by the lengths he’d gone to, the elaborate ploy he’d constructed just to let her know about their dinner arrangements. He was incredible; all of this was incredible! And like Finn said, maybe she should try and forget about the downside of everything, and let them both enjoy this for what it was.
Chapter 32
At seven pm that same evening, hotel reception phoned Abby and Finn’s room to announce that their transport had arrived.
“What transport?” she asked him, bewildered.
“Well to the boat I’d imagine,” Finn replied in a tone that suggested that he was up to something once again, and knew more than she did. Going downstairs they found a magnificent black Bentley MK VI complete with chauffer waiting outside.
“Wow, I’m impressed!” Abby beamed while once more Finn just smiled and said nothing.
When they were both comfortably settled inside the car, the driver cut across the Parisian boulevards before eventually stopping at one of the quays whereupon a large yacht was moored on the wharf. Upon arrival, the chauffer held open the door of the car and as Abby and Finn stepped out of it they were immediately welcomed by the captain before being invited aboard the luxurious teak steel and wooden mahogany boat.
“A private boat too?” Abby gasped, realising that they were the only passengers onboard
“Of course,” Finn replied casually, as if renting private boats for trips along the Seine was something he did every day.
As the boat pulled away from the port, they headed for the outside deck where a waiter offered them each a glass of champagne. Then, glasses in hand, Abby and Finn took a seat and began to relax and enjoy the magnificent show put on by Paris and its riverbanks.
As darkness began to fade and the boat cruised along the river Seine, the city’s most majestic and glorious buildings passed before their eyes: the Eiffel Tower, the Grand Palais, the Hôtel National des Invalides, the National Assembly …
And as the last rays of sunshine disappeared behind the monuments, they sat together in each other’s arms while the boat drifted away, and Abby recognised, a Michael Bublè number playing softly in the background.
“This is amazing,” she whispered, completely overwhelmed by the romance of it all. “I can’t believe you managed to organise all of this without my knowing. It’s incredible.”
“You deserve it,” he said, drawing her close to him, and they shared a gentle kiss before the waiter gently interrupted to let them know that dinner was now ready to be served. At this, they moved to sit at the beautifully set table for two also out on deck.
The meal like everything about the evening was superb and Abby was once again hugely grateful to Erin for ridding her of her food phobia.
For starters, they chose from scallops in champagne sauce and various delicacies like foie gras, duck and lobster. This was followed by a smooth champagne-mango sorbet before a main course of veal medallion with truffles, crunchy pigeon dressed in poppy seeds, and honey duck fillet with pears. Next up was an astonishing selection of delicious desserts including crème brûlée, chocolate sauce patisseries, mini apple Danish pastries and blackcurrant sorbet.
Afterwards Abby and Finn sat back for a while and tried to digest that incredible feast, but some ten minutes later, she noticed the yacht suddenly reduce its speed and come to a gentle halt.
She raised an eyebrow at Finn. “I hope we haven’t run out of petrol or anything, not that I’d complain about being marooned in a place like this!” she added with a grin.
“Non Mademoiselle,” the waiter supplied helpfully. “We are stopping at the Pont des Arts. It is considered by Parisians as the lovers' bridge.”
“Oh right.” Abby hadn’t known this. Well the bridge certainly was elegant and pretty, and like most bridges in Paris had a spectacular viewpoint, being so close to the Louvre.
The waiter was still speaking. “Two centuries ago this bridge was a real suspended garden adorned with small shrubs, flowers and benches, which is how it obtained its romantic association.”
“Right, thanks a million,” Finn grunted pointedly, and was Abby imagining it or did he seem annoyed by the interruption?
Evidently deducing the same thing, the waiter bowed imperiously before retreating inside the cabin.
“What’s up with …?” But the rest of her sentence trailed off as something else caught her attention.
And to Abby’s total amazement, right in front of her eyes she then saw what could only be described as a cascade of red roses drifting gently down from the bridge and onto the ship's front deck–right in front of
where they were sitting.
“Oh my goodness!” she gasped, turning in amazement to Finn, who had a strange expression on his face and seemed unaffected by the display. It was only then that she realised he was holding something in his hand, something small and shiny and for a second, it crossed her mind that he’d brought along that cheap pendant he’d used to spring this mornings’ surprise.
But this was no pendant.
“Abby Ryan,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, his dark eyes locked onto hers. “Will you marry me?”
And there, in the moonlight on the river Seine while hundreds of red roses showered down from the bridge above, a most romantic and memorable setting that she couldn’t have visualised in a thousand years, Abby made her reply.
“Yes,” she said, her tears falling almost as quickly as the roses. “Yes Finn, I would love to marry you.”
Chapter 33
“You’re what?” Abby’s mother gasped, when immediately upon their return from Paris she and Finn called to the house to announce their happy news.
“We’re getting married!” she cried, joyfully thrusting out her right hand so her mum could inspect her ring, a setting of three equally large diamonds on platinum. It was exactly the type of ring Abby would have chosen for herself, albeit much more extravagant and expensive than she could ever afford.
The rest of their stay in Paris had been magical. That night on the boat, when she’d said yes before practically launching herself on top of Finn, the waiter arrived with a fresh bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses. As the champagne cork popped and she and Finn clinked glasses against the magical background of subtly lit Parisian buildings, she still couldn’t believe that such a wonderful thing was really happening to her. She’d picked up one of the roses, determined to keep it as a tangible memory of the entire incredible experience.
Back at port when they disembarked the Bentley was once again waiting to chauffer the two of them back to their hotel. On the way back, Abby kept going over and over everything in her mind, trying to recall every second of what had happened, terrified that this particular memory would fade away.
But as it happened, there was no real need; Finn had indeed thought of everything. Beforehand he’d asked the company who’d arranged the cruise (along with the charade in Montmartre) to videotape what had happened at the bridge, which meant that she now had a visual record of his proposal and her delighted reaction for posterity.
But later that night after they’d made love and Finn lay fast asleep beside her, Abby couldn’t resist committing to her diary the overwhelming emotions she’d experienced that night. She was terrified that what had easily been the happiest moment of her life could so easily be lost, and right then, if she could have made a deal to swap the memory of that night for every other before the accident, she would have. If she could hold onto just one memory for the rest of her life, it would unquestionably be that one.
Now back home in Dublin, her mother was staring at Abby’s engagement ring with a mixture of awe and confusion in her eyes.
“You’re really getting married,” Teresa repeated, apparently blindsided by this development.
“Yes we are.” By his tone, Abby knew Finn was a bit stung by her mother’s so far unenthusiastic response to the news, and by her ongoing uncertainty about their relationship. She too was a bit put out by her mum’s reaction, couldn’t she see how happy and in love they both were?
But it seemed that this time they’d both misjudged her, as without warning tears sprang to Teresa’s eyes and her mouth broke into a wide smile.
“It’s a beautiful ring,” her mother said, sniffling, “and I’m so pleased for you–for both of you,” she added looking at Finn. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy.”
“We will.” Thrilled that her mother seemed to have come round, Abby engulfed her in a huge hug. “ We couldn’t wait to tell you!”
“Well,” she said, looking a bit embarrassed, “I suppose you know I’ve had my worries about how the two of you will cope with everything, but you seem to have managed fairly well up to now.”
“Abby’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Mrs Ryan,” Finn said squeezing his fiancées hand. “And we’re in this together, for better or worse.”
Abby looked at him then, suddenly realising the significance of that vow–especially for him. For better or worse? But what if … if things got out of hand and her memory deteriorated even more, what kind of life would they have then? Or more to the point, what kind of life would Finn have?
Suddenly, Abby began to get an inkling of the concerns her mother and his father had. And she wondered if for Finn’s sake she might have been too hasty in accepting his proposal.
“You’re a good man,” her mother was saying, hugging them each in turn and Abby was so overcome by the doubts she’d just experienced she couldn’t think straight. “So have you set a date yet?”
“We’re thinking maybe Christmas, better get it done as soon as possible before she forgets about me altogether,” he joked winking at Abby and this time, it wasn’t Teresa who was appalled by his words.
“Are you all right?” Finn asked, when Teresa went into the kitchen to put on the kettle and organise a plate of biscuits, champagne having never been a staple in the Ryan household. “You’ve gone a bit pale.”
“I’m OK,” she said, feigning a smile, the all-consuming joy she’d felt earlier suddenly deflated by the notion that spending the rest of his life with her might not be as straightforward as Finn thought
“You’re being silly,” he argued, when later that evening back at her flat she broached her concerns, “the stupid brain injury doesn’t matter to me at all, why would it?”
“Why wouldn’t it?” Abby countered. “For goodness sake, it’s bad enough to think that by this time next month I probably won’t be able to remember what’s so far been the best day of my life, let alone try and plan another one!”
She’d been able to think of nothing else all throughout their visit to her mum’s, how she’d been rash and unfair to just automatically agree to marry Finn without thinking about the consequences.
Finn seemed to misunderstand. “So you’re saying that you don’t want to marry me because you might not fully remember the wedding day? OK, fine, let’s do something small in the registry office, nothing too extravagant, as you say it seems a little pointless if you can’t remember it, although we will have photographs and– ”
“That’s not it,” she said, frustrated that she couldn’t get her feelings across. “I just don’t know if we should go down this road so soon.”
He looked at her, stunned. “You mean you’ve changed your mind completely, and you don’t want to marry me after all?”
Abby shook her head. “No, no, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m just thinking that maybe we need to be a hundred percent sure we can cope with …with my situation,” she dropped her gaze to the ground, “before committing to one another for the rest of our lives, or at least before you commit to me for the rest of your life.”
He strode across the room, and kneeling in front of her, took both of her hands in his. “Abby I love you, and as far as I’m concerned that’s all that matters. I want to spend the rest of my life with you no matter what.”
A lump came to her throat and she sorely wished that she had the strength of his conviction.
“It doesn’t bother you that without the help of stupid diaries and computer programs that I might not remember you from day to day?” she said, ashamed to have to admit this yet again, and even more ashamed that despite this, he could still love her so unconditionally. “That I don’t fully remember all the wonderful times we’ve had together since we first met? That there are some things I haven’t managed to hold onto, some precious moments we’ve shared that I can never get back? I mean, how do you cope with that, Finn? Knowing that my knowledge of you and the things we’ve shared could easily be lost in a heartbeat? I’m not sure I could.”
&n
bsp; Finn’s dark eyes bored into hers. “I cope with it because I love you. And because I know that the love you have for me isn’t just because of what some notebook tells you. How could it be? You have to feel it too, don’t you? Something else–something separate from your memory must register surely?”
She locked eyes with him, the realisation hitting her like a thunderbolt. “You’re right,” she said and a tiny flutter of joy unfurled inside her as she realised he was right. That, whatever about in her head, surely Finn would, without doubt, always be in her heart?
Erin was over the moon.
“I can’t believe it!” she cried down the phone when Abby broke the news to her the following afternoon. As her friend still hadn’t confessed anything about meeting someone (even since Abby had started seeing Finn seriously) she was now convinced that her suspicions had been wrong.
“Will you be my bridesmaid?” Abby asked, restored to her original elation now that Finn had allayed her fears about their future together. “You can say no if you like, it’s just…”
But a high-pitched squeal from the other end immediately gave Abby her answer.
“It would be an honour!” her friend gasped. “And are you having Claire and Caroline too?”
Abby was, much to Caroline’s delight too.
“Oh my God, think of all the fun we’ll have shopping for dresses! We must go back to London, or maybe even New York, see if we can get you something like that de La Renta number you liked. Wouldn’t it be just gorgeous in white? Then again, maybe Vera Wang would be better, or even Sharon Hoey or ...”
Abby had listened patiently while her label-loving sister ran through every wedding dress designer in the book. But she supposed Caroline did have a point. If she got herself a drop-dead-gorgeous and simply unforgettable wedding dress, then afterwards it could make up part of her mementos of the day itself couldn’t it? Or more likely, she thought dishearteningly, it could be a complete and utter waste of money seeing as she wouldn’t remember how she felt in it anyway. Still, the dress and the day weren’t just for her, were they? They would be for Finn too and she owed it to him to look incredible.
Falling in Love in New York Page 29