The Proposal Plan. Charlotte Phillips
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.’
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. Smells 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