The Proposal Plan. Charlotte Phillips

felt an unexpected compulsion to talk her out of the marriage dream. Nothing to do with disliking Ed. If anything he was completely neutral on that subject. But Lucy was only just approaching thirty. She was far too ambitious to settle down; this would turn out to be one of her temporary crazes. Occasionally she got a mad idea into her head and threw her heart and soul into it, only to tire of it ten minutes later. The only thing she’d ever been totally committed to was creative cookery.

      Straight talking was what was needed here. He took a deep breath. ‘Look, Lucy, you really need to get over this sudden obsession with settling down, with marriage. Marriage isn’t the be-all and end-all of everything these days, you know. Loads of people are happy just dating long term, or maybe moving in together. And don’t forget your business has just taken off. Ed probably just thinks there’s no rush.’ As an afterthought he added, ‘And he’s right.’

      She shook her head vigorously. ‘You’re not getting it. I know loads of people don’t go for marriage these days and that’s up to them. But this is about me. And for me moving in together is a cop out. Not enough.’

      She looked up at him, her green eyes wide and clear. He felt as if he could see every fleck of colour in them. ‘My parents just lived together and one or other of them was always either about to leave, leaving, or left. Maybe if they’d been married they might have taken it all a bit more seriously. Moving in is not enough of a commitment. Not for me. Not deep down.’ She made a fist and pressed it against her flat stomach. ‘Ed has no excuse. He’s more than up for getting married when we discuss it in principle, which we have done loads of times.’

      Gabriel stood up and started back to the kitchen. He needed coffee and painkillers. Not necessarily in that order. The hangover was kicking in with a vengeance.

      She called after him. ‘He’s quite happy to say of course he wants to get married one day. But when it comes to actually stepping up to the plate and making it official? Nothing! I’ve had it up to here!’ She indicated a level somewhere above her head. ‘I obviously attract commitment-phobic men. And so that’s why I’ve come to get your help.’

      He stopped in his tracks halfway to the door and looked back at her dubiously. ‘What do you mean, my help? What the hell can I do?’

      ‘You have loads of girlfriends, right? And you’re the most commitment-shy person I know.’

      ‘Well, yes… I mean no.’ He tried to work out if there was a compliment or insult in there and decided there was probably both. ‘How is this relevant?’

      ‘Well, I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands,’ she said firmly. ‘There’s no point hanging around waiting for Ed to get his act together. I’ll be ninety before that happens and my clock is ticking.’

      Gabriel pulled a revolted face. ‘OK, can we not talk about the clock-ticking thing? Men don’t want to know about that biological time-bomb stuff. In fact, if you’ve mentioned that to Ed, it could be your reason right there.’

      She held up a hand to shut him up. ‘Exactly my point. You can advise me on all this kind of thing.’

      He raised his eyebrows at her quizzically.

      ‘Where I’m going wrong, of course. Why he isn’t falling over himself to get a ring on my finger.’ She warmed to her subject. ‘You must have a wealth of experience just waiting to be tapped. You can show me how to be totally irresistible to him. And then…’ she swept past him into the kitchen and crashing sounds began as she started to make the coffee herself ‘… I’m going to ask him to marry me. On February twenty-ninth.’

      He thought for a moment she might actually be going mad.

      ‘It’s a leap year,’ she supplied helpfully, as if she had read his mind. ‘Women have a chance, no, a right to propose to their man on this day, once every four years. And you are going to help me do it in a way which means he will have to say yes!’

      Hangover forgotten, he barged into the kitchen behind her. She’d had some crazy ideas in her time, but this…

      ‘No. Absolutely no way.’

      ‘Why not?’ She looked up from scrabbling about in the cutlery drawer to give him a petulant frown.

      ‘Because I don’t have time to provide you with an insight into the male mind, and, even if I did, it’s not right, Lucy. You have to go home, tell Ed how unhappy you are and force the issue.’

      ‘Do you think I haven’t tried that?’ Her voice began to take on an angry pitch. ‘I did all of that at Christmas, he was totally clear on my feelings and gave me the same old rubbish about it “happening one day soon”. It’s made absolutely zero difference.’ She slammed two cups down on the counter so hard he was amazed they didn’t break. ‘He bought me perfume for my birthday—another missed opportunity right there—and now Valentine’s Day. The most romantic day of the year and we spent the evening discussing cash flow for his property development business.’

      Gabriel shook a generous mound of instant coffee directly from the jar into his cup. If he was going to survive this conversation he needed all the caffeine he could get. ‘Have you considered that maybe he just isn’t the right guy?’

      Her face twisted and the anger gave way to frustration. ‘He is the right guy, Gabe. We get on great. He’s supportive, he makes me laugh and I love him. He’s got his own business like me, so he understands when I disappear on evenings and weekends to finish off wedding cakes…’

      None of these things particularly struck Gabriel as evidence of true love—more like plenty of free time to watch football on the weekend and free evenings to go out with his mates.

      ‘Please, Gabe. I’ll do the same for you one day.’

      ‘I have absolutely no need of help on how to propose to women, thanks very much.’

      ‘I wasn’t suggesting that. I just meant I’d owe you a favour. I know you’ve denounced commitment since Alison died.’ She looked at him uncertainly, and well she might. She knew perfectly well this would touch a nerve.

      He felt the usual stab in his chest, where his heart was, he supposed. It was a low blow mentioning Alison. He devoted most of his waking hours to keeping all memory of her locked in a corner of his mind that he never visited. He certainly had no intention of talking about her now. He fixed a neutral expression on his face and grappled for a subject change. Thinking on his feet being one of his strengths, he very quickly found one.

      ‘Now that you mention owing me a favour…’ He spun away from her suddenly and grabbed a gilt-edged piece of stiff cream card from beneath a magnet on the fridge. ‘Will you come to my law firm dinner with me?’ He passed her the card and she scrutinised it.

      ‘You want me to be your date for some work do?’ she asked. ‘I thought you had them queuing up? Can’t that Tabitha go with you? Or is it Agatha? God, I lose track.’

      ‘Tabitha was months ago, keep up. I think you must mean Susan.’

      ‘Who the hell is Susan?’

      ‘It doesn’t matter, to be honest. We broke up last week. She was getting a bit full-on.’ Unable to find a clean teaspoon in his bombsite of a kitchen, he began to stir his coffee with a fork handle.

      ‘Well, in that case, you should be due to meet someone new…’ she consulted her watch with a flourish ‘… any time right about now. The dinner’s in a couple of weeks, so she should be at the perfect point in your relationship. Falling for you, but not yet far enough to scare you into dropping her like a hot potato. Problem solved—you really don’t need me. And anyway…’ she passed the invitation back to him and picked up her cup ‘… we’re talking about my problem, not your logistical dating rubbish.’

      He shook his head. ‘You don’t understand. This is serious. I can’t be taking just anyone. It’s a big deal, this dinner, all our major clients will be there, and all the partners in the firm. I need a date