Читать книгу Destination Chile - Katy Colins, Katy Colins - Страница 9

CHAPTER 2

Qualm (n.) – A sudden feeling of doubt, fear or uneasiness, especially in not following one’s conscience or better judgement

For a few seconds I just stared at the golden trimmed little box as it sat in my trembling hands, as if holding an injured bird or an unexploded landmine. I was too nervous to move a muscle or even catch up on the breath that had caught in my dry throat.

‘Ah, bollocks!’ I could hear Ben swearing as he got on with assembling the dining-room table, unaware of the momentous discovery that his girlfriend had just made in the very next room.

‘Open it, open it,’ my subconscious urged. ‘No!’ my brain shrieked. ‘Once you do, everything will change.’

I rubbed my index finger slowly over the lid as I battled with whether to look inside or not. What if it was hideous? What if it wasn’t even an engagement ring but a nice set of earrings instead? Screw it, there’s only one way to find out.

I gingerly lifted the lid and heard myself take a sharp breath. The sunlight streaming through the bedroom windows caught the diamond that was proudly set on a simple but elegant platinum band, forcing me to blink. It was gorgeous. And, it was most definitely an engagement ring.

Unanswered questions, thoughts and emotions suddenly flooded my shocked mind, which is probably why I did what I did next. It was as if I had come out of my body, lost all of my common sense and had shoved my fingers in my ears singing ‘la la la, I’m not listening’ to my brain, which was currently having a panic attack. Checking the bedroom door was firmly closed and hearing Ben muttering to himself over the music from the radio, I lifted the sparkling diamond out of the plush box and put the ring on.

It slid down my ring finger effortlessly. Like Cinderella trying on the glass slipper, it fit like it had been made for me. I couldn’t hide my bright smile as I admired the gleaming rock glinting on my hand, making my usually quite stubby fingers and gnawed cuticles appear as smooth and pretty as a hand model’s.

I didn’t even stop to think about what finding this hidden box would mean for our relationship, if I was even ready to get married to Ben, if I wanted to be someone’s fiancée again after the disaster I’d made of it the last time. All that mattered was me and this ring, which was so obviously meant to be mine. I’d become blinded by its beauty, causing all rational thoughts to exit the building. It had left me curled up on the floor, Gollum-like, stroking my precious.

I don’t know how long I sat like that, with my back leaning on the edge of our bed and my open mouth gaping at the beauty of the piece of jewellery, but in my admiration I hadn’t realised that the radio Ben had been badly humming along to had been turned off.

‘Babe, I think you might want to come out here,’ Ben’s voice sounded louder in the stillness, floating through the flat and shocking me back into the moment.

‘Oh right, erm, yep, give me a sec,’ I cried, hurriedly pulling at the ring to get it off, tuck it back in the box and hide it away before he came into the room and found me like this.

I didn’t know if the room had heated up or it was karma coming back to bite me for opening the box, but the ring wouldn’t come back up past my joint. Shit! I tugged it, pulled at it and even spat on my own stubby, stupid finger to prise the thing off. But it remained stubbornly jammed on.

‘You know we were a little concerned about the table being too big?’ Ben asked nervously, right outside the bedroom door.

‘Mmm?’ I replied, only half-listening. Come off, just come off! I was sweating and wincing at the pain of trying to force this damn ring over my finger without snapping a bone, just as the handle turned. I launched myself to the bedroom door and blockaded it using my body weight to keep Ben from getting in, all the while twisting and tugging at my hand that was now red and swelling up in pain.

‘You okay in there? I can’t get in!’ he called out through the wood.

‘Yeah, fine, just got boxes everywhere. I’ll be out in a sec,’ I called back, my voice strangely high-pitched and strangled.

I could hear him standing on the other side of the door for a few seconds longer, my head throbbing as much as my hand in fear at him coming in.

‘Oh right. I’ll pop the kettle on shall I?’

‘Yep, great, fine, thanks!’

Eventually, as I heard his footsteps on the wooden floors head back towards the kitchen, I let out a sigh of relief. My hand had now turned a strange shade of yellow with angry-looking red blotches from the force of me fighting with this damn ring. With one final tug, and a female tennis player style grunt, it flew off and skittered over to the other corner of the room. I leant my head against the door and tried to control my breathing. I wiped the sweat from my forehead, wincing at my sore finger. I quickly pulled myself together and shoved the ring back in its box, stuffing it back in the pocket where I’d found it.

A moment later the bedroom door opened. Ben was stood there holding out a steaming mug for me. ‘Here you go.’ I was sure his eyes widened at the mess I’d made in the bedroom. ‘You okay, babe?’

‘Ah thanks, yeah, all good. Right, let’s see your masterpiece!’ I said, pecking him on the cheek and shooing him out of the stuffy room, rubbing my sore hand behind my back.

‘Well, like I said, you might need to manage your expectations.’ He coughed. ‘It is a little larger than I’d… well, you’ll see…’ Ben trailed off.

I stopped still as I walked into the lounge. All thoughts of rings and wedding plans vanishing from my mind as I saw what he’d assembled. ‘A little larger?’ I gasped.

The dining-room table that had seemed so stylish in the showroom was now taking up pretty much all of our floor space. It looked ridiculous. I couldn’t concentrate on what he was sheepishly explaining. As he rambled on about measurements, sizes and dimensions, I zoned out and self-consciously rubbed my sore ring finger. Was this an omen? A sign of things to come? Our first proper adult purchase as a couple and it didn’t fit, just like the engagement ring? If that was the case then what the hell did that mean for us?