James had known all along that this was to be the most challenging moment of his life. However many times he tried, he could not see where Eliza was coming from, but he knew where he was going with it.

The day began slowly, with an easy breakfast and a subtle agreement that they would meet later. In her mind, this was clearly agreed, though she had a bit of a doubt where James was concerned. His ability to remember exactly what they had agreed was not a strong point of his.

Still, he had said what he had said and in his thinking, it was a commitment to be there.

They went their separate ways, he to the golf and she to the bridal shop. They each knew where the other was and the late lunch at Wagamama’s was agreed.

If only he would be on time and at the right place she thought, it would so make a difference to their relationship. She set off to meet her mother who was a party to their collaboration.

On the one hand, Mary was excited about meeting with her daughter for the big choosing of the dress. On the other, she felt a little as if this was only the start of a very long road.

One that would take up much of her busy time and inevitably be short on conclusions, for that was Eliza’s way. Look, consider, look some more and eventually, as like as not, she might go back to where she first started and look again.

Shopping this way was not Mary’s way at all and more than once that morning, she had caught herself sighing profoundly, as if it would make any difference. The sighs simply popped up and she heaved them out.

Of course this was not the only thing that Mary had on her mind that morning.

***

James took the shuttle to the course and met with the same three as usual. Let the bloody girls do their thing, he thought, without any attachment to it at all.

They were making far too much fuss about a silly dress and, after all, it was a glorious day and Geoff had something to celebrate, so it would be drinks all round after the game.

Eliza felt differently this time round. Her first wedding had been a bit of a rush job, what with little Emily about to make an appearance, so this time, she was excited and in a very different way.

With Emily with her father for the weekend, she could really focus, take her time and as much as possible, ignore her mother, who would undoubtedly be in a hurry to get the purchase made and then be off into her own little Mary world.

***

Anyway, thought James, it was all a waste of time and Eliza would not have a clue about what was going to happen. It would be a shock, of course and he would need more than a little Dutch courage to spit out the words.

They had a great round, the good old boys together. They had been playing this Saturday round for, what was it now, eleven years? And only rarely did they not all four make it and then each had to provide a suitable substitute, so the game could go on.

***

Mary took the express bus into town.

On a Saturday, she simply couldn’t be arsed with the traffic and parking, so the bus it was. She got it for free anyway, with her new bus pass.

She smirked slightly, for in the past, you would not have seen Mary on a corporation bus, oh no! Not ever, but now it was free and it saved her quite a bit of hassle, she relented, though George refused.

He wasn’t ever getting a bus with common people on it!

She found the stop nearest the shop and got off, but only just in time, as that rude bus driver had almost set off again before she got through the door. How nasty could some people be, she pondered, as she made her way through the puffa-jacketed lower life that were Saturday morning regulars in the town centre.

***

They were well into their third round of beers (which did not include the chasers that George kindly supplied), when James realised he had forgotten the lunch date.

“Shit and double-shit,” he snapped in that moment, “I’m bloody late, I’ve got to meet Eliza at 2!”

The others, total bastards to a man, all laughed at him as he grabbed his stuff and made his way across to the shuttle stop.

He’d just missed one and that would make him really late. He didn’t really care, being late and all, except that he did need to make his statement to Eliza, after all. He knew Mary would be there too, and that would also add to the crisis.

But James had to do it. And do it now, for the tickets were booked

***

“Darling, it looks fine,” Mary exclaimed wearily. They had only been to three shops and the bloody dresses all looked the same. She was ready for lunch and it must be time, mustn’t it?

“I’m not sure, Mummy,” squealed Eliza, “And I want it to be just right for James.”

Her illusion of her man was about to be shattered and still she was completely unawares and still off down that track of dressing up as a meringue on a Saturday in May with flower-girls to go.

Not gonna happen. James knew it. Mary should know it. Eliza didn’t know it.

In Wagamama’s at exactly 2 o’clock, Eliza was disappointed, yet hardly surprised. James was nowhere to be seen, so they ordered anyway.

A sort of chicken curry for James (stuff him if he couldn’t be bothered to show up on time). She asked for it very hot. Chicken Ramen for her and her mother finally decided on a Ginger Chicken thing, she’d had before.

All chicken eh!

But James, who finally made it through the door on the quarter hour was not feeling chicken at all. Flushed from the rush and the alcohol, he burst in through the door and rather unexpectedly sat by Mary.

Suddenly, Mary realised what was happening and she panicked.

“James, no,” she said, alarmed.

Before Eliza could even open her mouth to query what was happening, James pounced.

For there was no stopping James in that moment. In a surreal explosion of small, yet perfectly formed words, James finally spat out what he had wanted to say for several months now, yet had felt unable to.

“Mary and me, we are together,” he breathed out, with a fire far hotter than the curry before him. “We are leaving now and going off on our own, together.”

Apart from the sound of blood rushing through her ears, Eliza could not hear anything at all.

How could this be? Who were these people? Where was she?

What, in fact, was happening?

Of these questions, she had no answers at all.