The Proposal Plan

by Charlotte Phillips

  ‘No. Absolutely no way.’

  ‘Why not?’ She looked up from scrabbling about in the cutlery drawer to give him a petulant frown.

  ‘Because I don’t have time to provide you with an insight into the male mind, and, even if I did, it’s not right, Lucy. You have to go home, tell Ed how unhappy you are and force the issue.’

  ‘Do you think I haven’t tried that?’ Her voice began to take on an angry pitch. ‘I did all of that at Christmas, he was totally clear on my feelings and gave me the same old rubbish about it “happening one day soon”. It’s made absolutely zero difference.’ She slammed two cups down on the counter so hard he was amazed they didn’t break. ‘He bought me perfume for my birthday—another missed opportunity right there—and now Valentine’s Day. The most romantic day of the year and we spent the evening discussing cash flow for his property development business.’

  Gabriel shook a generous mound of instant coffee directly from the jar into his cup. If he was going to survive this conversation he needed all the caffeine he could get. ‘Have you considered that maybe he just isn’t the right guy?’

  Her face twisted and the anger gave way to frustration. ‘He is the right guy, Gabe. We get on great. He’s supportive, he makes me laugh and I love him. He’s got his own business like me, so he understands when I disappear on evenings and weekends to finish off wedding cakes…’

  None of these things particularly struck Gabriel as evidence of true love—more like plenty of free time to watch football on the weekend and free evenings to go out with his mates.

  ‘Please, Gabe. I’ll do the same for you one day.’

  ‘I have absolutely no need of help on how to propose to women, thanks very much.’

  ‘I wasn’t suggesting that. I just meant I’d owe you a favour. I know you’ve denounced commitment since Alison died.’ She looked at him uncertainly, and well she might. She knew perfectly well this would touch a nerve.

  He felt the usual stab in his chest, where his heart was, he supposed. It was a low blow mentioning Alison. He devoted most of his waking hours to keeping all memory of her locked in a corner of his mind that he never visited. He certainly had no intention of talking about her now. He fixed a neutral expression on his face and grappled for a subject change. Thinking on his feet being one of his strengths, he very quickly found one.

  ‘Now that you mention owing me a favour…’ He spun away from her suddenly and grabbed a gilt-edged piece of stiff cream card from beneath a magnet on the fridge. ‘Will you come to my law firm dinner with me?’ He passed her the card and she scrutinised it.

  ‘You want me to be your date for some work do?’ she asked. ‘I thought you had them queuing up? Can’t that Tabitha go with you? Or is it Agatha? God, I lose track.’

  ‘Tabitha was months ago, keep up. I think you must mean Susan.’

  ‘Who the hell is Susan?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter, to be honest. We broke up last week. She was getting a bit full-on.’ Unable to find a clean teaspoon in his bombsite of a kitchen, he began to stir his coffee with a fork handle.

  ‘Well, in that case, you should be due to meet someone new…’ she consulted her watch with a flourish ‘… any time right about now. The dinner’s in a couple of weeks, so she should be at the perfect point in your relationship. Falling for you, but not yet far enough to scare you into dropping her like a hot potato. Problem solved—you really don’t need me. And anyway…’ she passed the invitation back to him and picked up her cup ‘… we’re talking about my problem, not your logistical dating rubbish.’

  He shook his head. ‘You don’t understand. This is serious. I can’t be taking just anyone. It’s a big deal, this dinner, all our major clients will be there, and all the partners in the firm. I need a date who isn’t too showy and who won’t be draped all over me or hanging on my every word. In short, someone who will act the way I ask them to. That’s where you come in. Tabitha will be there, too, since she works for us, and things didn’t really end well with her.’

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you for real? You’re so arrogant. Have you ever thought it might be the type of woman you go for that causes the problem? Or maybe, shock-horror, the way you treat them? You never show any interest beyond a couple of dates.’

  He shrugged. ‘I’m always honest with them. I never give the impression that I want anything serious. It’s not normally an issue, but the thing is I’ve dated a couple of the women at work, women who’ll be at the dance. You’re well known as just a friend of mine. So no chance of any jealous scenes. No one will feel remotely threatened by you. Problem solved.’

  Lucy gave a cynical laugh. ‘I wouldn’t be convinced of that. Your girlfriends are never my biggest fans. Women are eternally suspicious of the female best friend. You automatically wonder what he’s getting from her that he can’t get from you.’

  Gabriel was mystified. ‘No, no. They always say they like you. And they know you’re with Ed.’

  ‘They would say that. They’re trying to please you. You really could do with my insight, you know.’ She sighed. ‘But look, I’ll make a bargain with you. I will go to the dinner with you and solve your dating problems.’

  He grinned triumphantly, but she held up a hand. ‘Please, let me finish. On condition that you help me with my proposal plan. I need the male point of view.’ She looked at him expectantly. ‘Do we have a deal? I thought we could start right away. We could go for a run by the river and discuss some details.’ She stood up and did a couple of sample stretches, lunging forward on her slightly built legs.

  He watched her in horrified amazement. ‘You’re insane if you think I’m up to running anywhere. I only got to bed at three.’

  Was it just that? He felt an irrational negativity towards the idea of helping her propose to Ed, and crushed it. It must be the hangover. Why should he care if she got married, as long as she was happy? That was all he ever wanted for her, after all. Based on past experience she would be bored with the idea in a couple of weeks, and if he got her to look closely enough at Ed’s faults he might even be able to speed it up and everything would get back to normal. Best to just go with the flow for now.

  ‘Let me go back to bed and I’ll come round to your place tomorrow night,’ he said. ‘I’ll even bring a bottle of wine. And, though I say it with a measure of dread, then you’ve got a deal.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  DESPITE Gabriel’s protestations that he needed sleep, after Lucy left to go running and he fell gratefully back into bed it totally eluded him. Lucy getting married. His mind worried at it like a dog at a bone. It was a given that if she were to propose, Ed would accept. He didn’t question that for a second. Any man would be a fool to refuse her. Knowing her as he did, she would storm ahead with the arrangements and be married by the end of the year. Her life would revolve around someone else then. His mind picked at this one thing. Where was the space for their friendship in that?

  When she wanted help with anything Gabriel was the one she came to. It had been the same since they were kids. Hell, it had been him who’d found the property that was now her first shop, and persuaded her to move to Bath and expand her successful cake business, which up until then had operated through word of mouth from her own kitchen. He’d even let her live with him rent free for six months while she got the shop off the ground. If something really great or really bad happened to him she was the first person he wanted to tell about it. The great things because he knew she’d get a kick out of them just as he did. The bad things because her effervescent personality always made him feel better, no matter what kind of day he’d had. How did he feel about having someone else step into that role? If he were totally, brutally honest he hated the thought. Sleep was a long time coming.

  Three hours later, Lucy was peeling potatoes in her cosy little kitchen when the front door slammed and Ed came into the flat. He gave her a smacking kiss and looked over her shoulder at the pans of vegetables.

  ‘Hi, baby. S
mells great.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  He was wearing a T-shirt and tracksuit bottoms, hair still slightly damp from the shower. Ed played for a local football team and trained most Sunday mornings. He opened the fridge and took out two beers, holding one out to her. She shook her head.

  ‘No, thanks, I’m fine. How was training?’ She didn’t mind him playing. It was the one day of the week when she had a relaxed morning to herself. Except for this morning, of course. She felt exasperated still with Ed’s insensitivity the night before, but she was doing something about it now, wasn’t she? In a couple of weeks’ time they would be engaged. She smiled inwardly at the thought.

  ‘OK. Knee’s been giving me a bit of grief. Think I’ll go and put it up for a bit. Anything I can do?’

  ‘No, no. You go and sit down. I’ll just get the potatoes on and then I’ll be in.’

  When she entered the lounge ten minutes later Ed was sprawled in the armchair, sports channel on the TV, foot resting on the coffee table.

  She sat down on the arm of his chair and ruffled his blond hair affectionately. It fell over his forehead and the sideburns were grown long in homage to Ed’s music hero Elvis Presley. ‘I saw Gabriel this morning. I was going to drag him out jogging but he was hung way over. In the end I went on my own.’

  ‘Hmm.’ He didn’t avert his gaze from the TV screen.

  ‘He’s asked me if I’ll go to a dinner dance thing with him. It’s a work do.’

  Ed glanced up at her.

  ‘Can’t he take one of his women? God knows there’s enough of them.’

  She smiled. ‘That’s exactly what I said. Apparently he’s offended one of his ex-girlfriends and she’s going to be there. He needs a neutral date to avoid any grief. It’s the weekend after next—you don’t mind, do you?’

  He took a swig from the bottle of beer. ‘No. I’ll go out with the lads probably. You go and enjoy yourself. Keep him in check.’

  ‘He’s coming round tomorrow night, too. Got a few work issues to discuss, but you’ll be out anyway.’

  He simply nodded, clearly more attuned to the television than to her. She watched him. There had been a time, once, when they’d first got together, that they would have had a stand-up row at her suggestion she have a night out with Gabriel. The few boyfriends she’d had before Ed had been the same. She didn’t blame them. It normally took a good few months before they realised her relationship with Gabriel really was totally platonic and then they quit protesting and questioning her about him. Even so, Ed still couldn’t resist the occasional dig, and liked to amuse himself by promoting the view that Gabe took advantage of her friendship when it suited him. But he didn’t try to stop her seeing him, and that was all that really mattered to her. She simply rose above the masculine posturing.

  After lunch, she watched Ed as he stacked dishes in the dishwasher. This was exactly what she liked so much about being with him. Domesticity. Her mind wandered before she could stop it towards her own childhood home. She had lived with her parents in the tied cottage on Gabriel’s family estate. The cottage went with her father’s job of groundsman. Anything to do with the upkeep of the manor house and its gardens and outhouses had been his responsibility. And to his credit, she thought, he did a good job for almost the entire time they were there. Until the end when his drinking had more charge of his life than he did himself.

  Dragged down with him was her mother, who developed her own drinking problem alongside him, almost in sympathy with him. The rows had become more and more frequent, verbal at first, then at times physical. By the time Lucy was sixteen her mother had left and she was running the house herself as well as managing her own schoolwork. She had kept everything perfectly as if she could somehow bring order to the rest of her life by making the house run smoothly.

  Watching Ed now in her tiny kitchen, helping her clear up after eating the meal she had cooked for them both, she felt a warmth deep inside her. She felt totally at ease, relaxed, secure. She wanted that feeling to last and to envelop every aspect of her life. She wanted to start thinking about having children now, a family of her own to look after. It was the logical next step for them, and getting married was the way she wanted to start that journey. She felt excited at the thought of it—a proper family at last.

  The following evening, Gabriel was late as usual. Only in his private life, though, Lucy thought fondly as she tidied up. He was always impeccably presented, perfectly prepared and absolutely on time when he was working. In fact he was the most professional person she knew, totally reliable and with absolute integrity when he had his lawyer hat on. A rising star in legal circles, he had attained partnership before the age of thirty and his career was going from strength to strength. Unfortunately it never seemed to wrap over to his personal life. He was always late and his beautiful house was always a pigsty.

  She let him in and he kissed her on the cheek. She caught a whiff of his aftershave, something woody that made her want to breathe in deeply. He marched straight through into her neat little kitchen, grabbed a couple of glasses and rummaged in the drawer for a bottle opener. She followed him in and leaned against the doorway, watching him with amused interest.

  ‘Make yourself at home,’ she said teasingly.

  He grinned without looking up. ‘You’re such a creature of habit, Lu. After living with you for six months I could probably find any given kitchen utensil or crockery item in this room without even looking.’

  ‘Steak knife?’

  He opened the drawer below the hob and pulled the knife out with a flourish. She liked all sharp items to be close to hob and chopping board.

  ‘Luck!’ she protested. ‘Olive oil?’

  He pointed at the high cupboard on the left. ‘In the ingredients and condiments cupboard, of course.’

  She didn’t have to open the cupboard to know he was right. Everything in her kitchen had order to it. She liked it that way. ‘Salad spinner?’

  ‘What the hell is one of those?’

  She laughed and he grinned back at her as he uncorked the bottle of wine.

  ‘OK, let’s get started.’ She took one of the glasses and led the way into her little sitting room. It was neat and tidy. The scented candles she’d lit earlier gave off a delicious warm winter scent of orange and cloves. He followed with the bottle and took the armchair. She settled herself close by on the sofa.

  ‘So, where do you think we should start, then?’ she asked him as soon as she was comfortable.

  He glanced up at her as he poured the wine.

  ‘Should I ask him on his own, or with all our friends and family there?’ She put her head on one side and screwed her nose up, considering. ‘Do you think it would be too weird if I bought myself a ring?’

  He held up a hand for her to be quiet and she waited impatiently while he took a slug from his glass. ‘Firstly, for the record, I want you to know I think this is possibly the most crackpot idea you’ve ever had. I’m including in that the time when we were kids and you convinced me my mother would be pleased if we repainted the sitting-room door yellow with my fingerpaints.’

  She laughed and he smiled back at her. He had a heart-melting smile that gradually crept up to his eyes, creasing the corners and giving him a look of intensity. She always felt he kept that smile just for her. No doubt many other women felt the same, she thought wryly.

  ‘But since you’ve agreed to watch my back at this wretched work dinner dance,’ he went on, ‘I will help you.’

  She clapped her hands together excitedly.

  ‘But if we do this, we’re going to take it seriously and we’re going to do it my way. OK?’ He looked at her sternly for agreement.

  ‘OK.’ She sat on her hands to keep herself from fidgeting, and made herself wait for him to carry on. Once Gabriel had committed to something she knew he would take it totally seriously and wouldn’t allow her to sidetrack him with her enthusiasm. It was one of the things she adored about him.

  In all the ye
ars she’d known him, he’d never let her down. Unlike most of the other main players in her life, she thought, with a pang of regret. The finger-painting memory reminded her of how much she’d loved spending time with him as a child. Gabriel was an only child, just like her, except that his parents were very loving and very wealthy. She hadn’t cared about the wealthy part, but she had envied him for the happy, unworried and loving life he had. His family were warm and kind and had always welcomed her. For her the ‘big house’, as she’d thought of it, had been a refuge from the constant escalating fights in her own home.

  Gabriel dragged her back to the present by making an enthusiastic start on his plans. ‘OK, there’s only two weeks until the twenty-ninth so we need to get our skates on. That means radical plans to make him sit up and take notice of you.’ He leaned back a little and looked at her critically. ‘I know you, Lucy. You’ll be wanting to jump in and plan a massive party culminating with you getting down on one knee. But it’s not enough to plan a speech and a big sweeping gesture of a proposal.’ He paused for effect. ‘For true success you need to get to the bottom of why he doesn’t feel he needs to propose to you himself. If we can do that we can change the way he thinks of you and we’ll be guaranteed a positive outcome.’ He grinned at her across the coffee table.

  ‘How do we do that?’ She marvelled at how well he knew her. It was almost spooky. One of the options she’d been secretly considering was a party ending in a firework display. Another was hiring a barbershop quartet to sing the proposal to Ed while she looked smugly on awaiting his resounding ‘yes’. Her own enthusiasm could easily overshadow her common sense, which was why Gabriel’s calm perspective was exactly what was needed.

  ‘We’re going to scrutinise every area of your life,’ he said. ‘Find out why he needs a rocket lit under him to get him to commit. We’ll look at your home life, your social life, your wardrobe, your appearance…’ He sat back again for a moment and looked her up and down appraisingly from the extra distance. His slate-grey eyes looked puffy and sleep-starved, but nothing could detract from the strong jawline and determined mouth. Even when he’s tired he looks gorgeous, she thought. How unfair. And now he’s going to criticise the way I look.