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He pointed downward. ‘Merlin’s cave.’
‘I can almost imagine a dragon swooping down to visit him.’
Then came the stairs and, as instructed, she took them slowly, very aware of his focus, of the heat of his gaze as he made sure she was all right, his hand on the small of her back to help her.
And then they reached the top and she gasped in sheer awe. The ruins themselves were darkly atmospheric, though the arched doorway and slit windows were all that remained of the great hall. Low stone walls marked where houses, kilns and a chapel would once have teemed with people and medieval life.
But it was the view that literally caught at her newly recovered breath. The headlands were a myriad of jutting rocks, in shades of green, brown and terracotta. And way below the sea crashed with all the force and power of nature against the rocks.
‘It’s a place where your imagination can swoop and soar... You can almost taste history.’
Zander’s eyes rested on her face. ‘I’ve brought something perhaps a little more sustaining if you want to picnic up here. I even brought pickled eggs.’
‘That sounds wonderful!’
Soon enough he had unpacked a hamper bearing the logo of a famous London store and Gabby got down to the serious business of eating for two. Mini quiches, game pie, pâté and crackers, and, of course, the pickled eggs were all washed down with sparkling elderflower pressé.
Eventually she sat back, replete. ‘Thank you. That was delicious and it has fortified me for the trek back down!’
‘Before we do that... I thought it would be a good time to give you this.’ Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small box, snapped the lid up and handed it to her.
A jolt of emotion shot through her as she saw the glint and sparkle of the ring embedded in velvet—a beautiful mix of an ice-white diamond and deep blue lapis lazuli set in white gold.
‘If you don’t like it we can change it.’
‘No! It’s stunning.’
Carefully she took it out, looked at it for a long moment. Suddenly the whole ambience of the day shifted, and as if in response a cloud moved across the sun for an instant.
Don’t overthink it, Gabs.
Quickly now, she slipped it on to her ring finger—he didn’t offer to do it and in truth it wouldn’t have felt right if he had. Too much like a parody. After all, this ring was not an indicator of love, merely an intention of commitment without it. A prop rather than a symbol.
Holding her hand up, she watched as the newly reappeared sun sparkled in the stones’ facets, causing motes of light to dance in the air. Yet for some reason her finger felt weighted.
‘The central stone is a diamond, obviously, and the blue stones are lapis lazuli—the colour reminded me of the sea and Sintra, and the jeweller said they represent friendship.’
Now sadness truly prodded her—a definite sense of This is not how it’s meant to be. Yes, the ring was beautiful, the idea brilliant, but the most important component was missing.
Stop it, Gabby.
This was not the time to be whiny or act the ingrate—Zander had gone to a huge effort and she should appreciate it. Because in their marriage friendship, not love, would be the cornerstone. Love for their child was the bedrock.
‘It’s perfect,’ she said. ‘And thank you for making an occasion of it.’
‘I thought it was important. After all, one day our child will ask us where we got engaged. My sisters were always asking Mum and Dad to tell their engagement story.’
‘I used to love heari
ng Gran and Gramps’s, as well. Gramps hired a tandem and asked Gran to ride through life with him. He said that he’d pedal harder when she needed to rest and that they’d always balance each other out on their journey through life together.’ As always, the story brought a smile to her lips, though the memory was touched now by the sadness of missing him. ‘What was your parents’ story?’
Zander smiled in reminiscence. ‘I told you Dad’s an electrician? He rigged up loads and loads of fairy lights in their local park, hired a violinist and told her she was the light of his life. And she really is—his face still lights up when she comes into a room and vice versa.’
‘And what about you and Claudia?’ Gabby didn’t know why she’d asked that—perhaps because that was what a friend would ask.
The thought tasted bitter on her tongue and she picked up her glass and gulped at a swig of elderflower.
Zander hesitated. ‘I was only eighteen and I went for the romantic cliché. I saved up, took her out for an expensive meal, gave her a red rose and a ring. All the other diners clapped when she said yes.’
