How to Get Hitched in Ten Days by Samantha Tonge Read Free Book Online

Is that why… why it’s upset you so much? Me getting plastered?’
    ‘Not really – it was more the total lack of thought.’
    ‘I know. That’s me all over. I thought you found that endearing, or has the initial shine worn off?’ He gave a wry smile.
    ‘No… but we’re talking about the big stuff; our future. You hadn’t even bought the ring, implied that neither of us are getting younger, and wouldn’t meet anyone else so…’ I shrugged. ‘It’s exactly the sort of thing my father would have done. And if Mum had complained, she’d have got another black eye. I don’t want to spend my life with anyone who reminds me of him.’
    ‘Jazz! You can’t compare us – I’ve only blown things really badly, just this once, haven’t I?’
    ‘Yeah over the biggest question someone can ask in their life.’ I wasn’t going to risk entering a marriage that in any way reminded me of my childhood.
    ‘I know the bad memories of him haven’t faded, Jasmine, but don’t let them impact on us. I made an honest mistake. As for the rest… you know I don’t even squash spiders.’
    I nodded, as an image slid into my mind of Dad criticising Mum’s steak and kidney pie. He stood by a photo on the wall – the two of them, at their wedding, smiles abundant, arms wrapped around each other. He stank of whiskey. I was nine and Mum shooed me out of the room just seconds before I heard a slap.
    We sat in silence for a moment and then he shrugged. ‘Nearly forgot – in the spirit of being more thoughtful, I’ve bought you a gift.’ Dave disappeared behind the kitchen worktop – cue the rustling of a bag. He came back to the sofa and told me to close my eyes. ‘I didn’t have time to wrap it, but it’s the thought that counts, right? I just wanted to show how much you mean to me – and hopefully how much I know what you like.’
    I opened my eyes as he slid the rectangular object – a book – into my hands. My jaw fell open. Fifty Shades of Grey by E. L. James. I glanced at him. He gave a sheepish smile.
    ‘Oh, er…’ My ears felt hot.
    His face dropped. ‘I, um, thought you felt like giving these novels a go? But, well, could prove interesting…’ He gave a nervous laugh. ‘… just run any suggestions past me if you pick up any tips to improve our love life.’
    ‘You think our love life needs improving?’ My stomach scrunched and I put the book down on the nearby low coffee table.
    ‘No! Of course not. Just my little joke.’
    ‘What on earth made you think I’d like this book?’ I said and shook my head. ‘Don’t you know anything about me, Dave? I watch sweet romcoms with happy endings; I read Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte. Each to their own but E L James isn’t for me.’ I picked the book up and passed it back to him. ‘Perhaps you should give it a go.’
    ‘No! Look Jasmine–’
    ‘Just leave, Dave. Clearly tonight was a mistake.’
    ‘But we’ve hardly talked and–’
    I got up and headed to the bedroom. ‘I’ve got a headache. Just let yourself out.’
    ‘But–’
    I closed my bedroom door behind me, the last thing I heard being Dave’s angry tones growling something about the gym “right now” and someone having some questions to answer.
    Not caring why he was gabbling nonsensically, I threw myself onto the bed and wrapped myself up in the cornflower blue duvet. Contradictory as it sounds, a sense of emptiness filled my chest. Perhaps Dave’s clumsy attempts to please me over the last few months shouldn’t have made him endearing – maybe they were a warning sign that physical stuff aside, he and I were really ill-matched; not suitable partners, let alone formal husband and wife. I mean, I could also tell he hadn’t always appreciated my gifts. Like the leather man-bag – I thought it practical, but he didn’t feel comfortable wearing it. And then there was the lambswool jumper – I’d forgotten that made him itch. Yet it wouldn’t be normal, would it, if we