Free Rory's Proposal by Lynda Renham Page A

proved him right and I would have failed at the one thing I can do,’ I finish.
    I’m relieved the hot chocolate arrives and I can hide my red face behind the mug. I pop a marshmallow into my mouth and savour it.
    ‘What does he do, this Luke?’
    ‘He’s a solicitor,’ I say proudly. ‘He’s very successful. He’s going to Dublin next week for a golf tournament. He’s playing, he’s very good.’
    ‘Ah, yes, I remember now. Maybe I’ll see him in Dublin,’ he says casually.
    ‘You’re going to Dublin too?’ I say widening my eyes.
    That’s about right. I suppose Devon will say she and Mark are going to Dublin next. You know, to celebrate the engagement. I’ll be the only one not going I suppose. Typical.
    ‘My father is also in the tournament,’ he smiles.
    There is silence as we drink our chocolate.
    ‘Owning your own business is being successful,’ he says suddenly, looking up at me. ‘You could make another salon just as successful, maybe even more so. I think they would help with the relocation’.
    I scoff.
    ‘Do you know where they’re offering to relocate me? In the East End of London, I mean, can you imagine?’ I say hotly, pushing loose strands of hair back into my messy bun. ‘Besides it’s ridiculous, that Rory guy is money mad. I hope he pops his clogs before he gets the salon.’
    He widens his eyes.
    ‘That’s a bit harsh,’ he says, his handsome face creasing into a grin.
    ‘Well he’s ancient apparently.’
    ‘Right.’
    ‘Jethro was all up to give Mr Rory a chin check or to go around with a banger.’
    ‘That’s an old car is it?’ he laughs.
    ‘I’ve no idea. I was too scared to ask. But I can understand he’s upset for Sandy. She hoped to one day buy the video rental shop. Open a beauty salon. We were going to work together,’ I say miserably, feeling for Sandy and knowing how it feels to have a dream.
    He nods and gestures to the waitress.
    ‘Do you have those wonderful Bakewell tarts?’
    ‘We have just the one,’ she smiles. ‘I was saving it for you.’
    ‘You’re my girl,’ he says winking at her. ‘Would you like something?’ he asks, turning to me.
    I shake my head and stir the cream into my chocolate.
    ‘It’s not failing at all if you sell your salon. Is that what your boyfriend Luke tells you?’
    ‘Luke’s very supportive,’ I say.
    Yeah right, if only.
    ‘We’re going to fight,’ I say.
    ‘We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds,’ he says, laughing.
    ‘We shall fight in fields and in the streets,’ I say.
    ‘Inside and outside of the salon,’ he adds.
    ‘And along Portobello Road,’ I say with a giggle.
    ‘In front of the basins and under the dryers, we shall fight with combs and pliers.’
    ‘Pliers?’ I say.
    ‘It rhymes,’ he laughs.
    I carefully put my mug down so as not to spill it. I find myself thinking how it has been a long time since I laughed with Luke. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it.
    ‘Do you think I shouldn’t fight?’ I ask.
    ‘It’s a lot of energy, especially if they’re offering another salon. Look Flo, I came to the …’
    He stops as the waitress approaches with his Bakewell tart.
    ‘You want to share?’ he asks.
    Oh God, I really shouldn’t, but then again I have lapsed so badly since hearing of Devon’s engagement that I guess one more won’t hurt.
    ‘Get your energy up for your fight.’
    ‘You’re a bad influence,’ I say.
    He places half on my saucer.
    ‘The thing is Flo …’ he begins.
    My mobile trills and I give an apologetic look.
    ‘It’s probably Luke, wondering where I am.’
    I pull it from my bag and answer the call.
    ‘I had a flood at the salon, so I’m running late,’ I tell Luke.
    ‘Again? You need to get that fixed properly. I’m also running late. I’m on my way home now. I’ll get two carrot and chickpea salads from Healthy Juice. I’ll see you in a bit.’
    Great, just what I fancied, not. I wait for him to