stood awkwardly in the hallway, Bassa eager to be in, Jess half in and half out of her door, Max still holding the flowers out in front of him like a shield.
‘I’m sorry. I know it’s ancient history but my ex, Lucy, was always jealous of how well I got on with my parents,’ Max said. ‘She was always telling me that I neglected her.’
‘Well, I’m not Lucy,’ said Jess. ‘And I’m close to my parents too.’
‘Is it all right if I come in?’ he asked. Jess hesitated, just long enough for him to look uncomfortable.
‘I thought you were going to have an early night. Didn’t you tell me that you’d got to be in to work by five today and tomorrow?’ said Jess, in a low voice.
Max looked contrite. ‘Just tomorrow. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I don’t have to stay if you don’t want me to. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Really – I’m crap at relationships. ’
He looked so deflated that Jess stood to one side. ‘Come on in. Just don’t lie to me again. All right?’
He kissed her. ‘Okay.’ As he stepped past her Max switched on the lights and then bent down to unclip Bassa, who belted off into the kitchen. ‘He looks pleased to be home. How did it go with your mother?’
Jess lifted a hand to silence him. ‘Wait, while we’re on the subject of the truth, Max, I need to be honest with you too.’ Now she had all his attention.
‘What do you mean?’ he asked, looking anxious.
Jess reached into her pocket and pulled out the little pouch with her engagement ring in it. ‘I’ve been trying to think of ways to tell you without hurting your feelings.’
Max’s face turned ashen. ‘What?’ he murmured and Jess realised with a start that he thought she was giving him back his ring, changing her mind. Her expression softened.
‘Don’t look so worried,’ she said gently. ‘I was only wondering if you would mind if we changed my engagement ring?’
Max sighed with what she guessed was relief. ‘What, is it too big? I thought it fitted perfectly?’
‘It does, but it’s just that I’m not very keen on the design. It’s quite big and cumbersome, and I’d really like to have a ring I want to wear all the time. It would be nice to have something that we’d chosen together. Don’t you think?’
‘Oh,’ he said, sounding a bit put out. ‘But I thought you really liked it.’
Jess wasn’t quite sure what to say next; she had rather assumed that Max’s reaction would be something along the lines of okay, sure – let’s go and change it, not to have to justify why she didn’t like it.
‘It’s not my kind of thing. The design I mean,’ she said, feeling increasingly awkward. ‘And it’s a bit big for my hands, don’t you think?’ She spread her fingers to make the point. ‘Especially once I’ve got a wedding ring on as well.’
‘Well, if you don’t like it, you should have said something when I gave it to you,’ he said.
Jess tried out a smile and a different tactic. ‘How would that have sounded? Yes, of course I’ll marry you, but I hate the ring?’
He was about to say something but Jess decided that it might be better if she kept on talking. ‘I was so excited and so blown away by how romantic and how lovely it all was,’ she said gently, ‘The whole thing on the beach was so perfect, that the ring was – was –’ She felt around to find the right word without saying something that would make things any worse.
‘Almost secondary?’ suggested Max.
‘Something like that,’ said Jess. ‘It was such an amazing moment that I wasn’t really thinking about the ring at all, I was thinking about us – the future – all those things.’
‘So what kind of ring would you prefer? I want you to have something you like, obviously.’
‘Couldn’t we go and choose it together?’
Max looked uncomfortable. ‘Well, not really – I bought it from this little independent jewellery designer in Cambridge. Everything they make there is a one off. I’m not sure when they’re open. How about if you tell me the kind of thing you’d like and I’ll bring a selection of rings home and you can choose one?’
‘Or maybe we could call them, arrange to take a trip over there.’ Jess looked up at his face. ‘Surely they won’t let you just bring a tray of rings home?’
Max shifted his weight, looking ill at ease. ‘I’m almost certain they won’t mind. They know me there. I’ve bought quite a few things from them over the years, cufflinks and presents for friends and things for my mother. Christmases, birthdays. They’re very good. And I want it to be something special, not just picked from hundreds of others, massproduced, from any old jewellers.’
It struck Jess that Max didn’t want her to know how much the ring cost; that had to be why he didn’t want her to go and choose one for herself. The thought made her smile; he could so old-fashioned at times, bless him. Maybe this was the time to gratefully accept without pushing him any harder.
She took a deep breath. ‘That’s a lovely thought, Max, and I do appreciate it. If they’ll do that, then of course. Okay – it’ll be lovely.’
‘So what sort of ring would you like?’
Jess held out her hands for him to look at. ‘Something more delicate, not quite so chunky, maybe tiny diamonds or a solitaire. And maybe white gold? I’ve got quite small hands. What do you think?’
Max nodded. ‘Yes, of course, yes, you’re right.’ And for the first time since she had seen him by the car he smiled. ‘I promise I’ll sort that on Monday. And I’m sorry.’
‘For?’
‘For lying to you, for not choosing the right ring and I can see exactly what you mean about it not being right for you.’
‘You can?’
He nodded and then he kissed her gently. ‘I’ll put it right, I promise. Now I don’t know about you but I’m famished. How about I order us a take-away while you tell me all about how it went with your mother today?’
Molly meanwhile had settled back into a bath with only her head above the water. Nick had put bubbles in it that he’d bought her last time he was in Paris and the water smelt of freesias and honeysuckle.
She had a glass of wine on the go and was listening to Nina Simone’s voice rising up the stairs from the hi-fi in the sitting room below, the music as perfect and smooth as spun silk. ‘If we ever get married I’d like to have this at our wedding,’ Molly said.
‘I thought you were bored with organising weddings,’ said Nick from the other end of the bath. He’d got himself a margarita and a book propped up precariously on the soap rack.
‘Yes, but ours would be different. I wouldn’t have to worry about asking what anyone else wanted for a start.’
‘Oh, that’s nice,’ he said, pretending to take the hump. ‘So, I don’t get an opinion?’
‘You know what I mean – we could have just what we liked.’ She paused. ‘It seems so weird. My baby is getting married.’
‘So you said. It could be worse,’ Nick said. ‘She could be making you a granny.’
Molly ignored him. ‘And we don’t really know anything about Max.’
‘We don’t have to.’ Nick topped up the hot water.
‘It doesn’t seem fair that all those years have gone. One minute they’re just babies and then they’re at school and getting jobs and before you know it they’re getting married,’ said Molly, feeling the