Page 4 of The Wedding Game

‘I’ve never met the right woman. But if I did, I’d probably propose to her within minutes. Lock her down, there and then.’

I love this. It’s so silly.

‘Within how many minutes of meeting someone would you propose?’ I ask.

He puts on a thoughtful expression. ‘Seventeen.’

‘What?’ I chuckle and then adopt my serious expression. ‘Seventeen? Why such a random number?’

‘Fifteen’s not enough time – you can’t establish whether someone’s a total psycho in fifteen minutes. Twenty minutes is too long. You’ve missed the boat at twenty minutes. They’ve married someone else at that point.’

‘Seventeen is the sweet spot, is it?’

‘Got to be.’

I laugh. ‘So you’re getting married at seventeen minutes. How soon after that are you having kids?’

‘Nine months, obviously,’ he’s quick to say. ‘You can’t do it any faster than that. It’s not medically possible.’

I really laugh at this. ‘OK, genius,’ I reply, ‘how many kids do you want?’

‘Two,’ he says without thinking. ‘Two hands to hold two kids. Don’t want a third one scurrying off in the wrong direction. Too much hassle. What about you?’

‘Two is a good number,’ I concur. ‘I hadn’t really given it much thought, but now you’ve mentioned the potential scurrying, I’m sold on two.’ I dive around in my conversational brain to find something to ask. ‘Have you ever been in a fight?’

‘Afight?’ His eyebrows shoot up. ‘Like a real one?’

I nod.

‘No. But I broke up a fight at a wedding last year and I’m ready to step up again, should the need arise.’

‘You broke up a fight. At awedding?’

Chris nods sagely. ‘All good weddings end in a fight.’

‘All good weddings end in a fight? Oh my God,’ I laugh. ‘You have to be joking.’

‘You watch … You might be surprised yet. The bride’s mumhatesthe groom’s mum. Could be worth sticking around. OK, my turn. Round two: what’s your crazy quirk?’ he asks and, because I give him a confused expression, he elaborates. ‘Everyone has one. Mine is cleaning. I clean like I’ve got shares in Dettol.’

‘Do you?’ I ask. ‘Really?’

‘Yep. Can’t help it. Love cleaning.’

‘Love it as in … really love it? Or you’re obsessed with cleaning?’

‘I just really like a clean apartment, then it’s done and I can relax.’

‘Apartment? That’s a very American phrase. Is your other crazy quirk that you watch too much American TV?’

‘No,’ he replies. ‘I do live in New York, though, and every now and again a US phrase falls out of my mouth.’

‘You live inNew York?’ I ask slowly.

‘Yep. For now. Where do you live? Careful, though, we’re bordering on small talk again.’ He sips his drink.

Why has this information made me pause? Why has learning that this man lives nowhere near me stopped me short? ‘London,’ I say.

‘Did you have to think about it? Did you forget where you live? Or are you making it up to throw me off the scent?’

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