Page 27 of Five Gold Rings

‘Yes. Her name is Gloria,’ he says, retrieving a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his brow. ‘Now tell me, kids, do I look overdressed? I’m shaking. Can you even believe it? At my age…’

‘You look very handsome,’ I tell him. ‘This is quite the proposal. On a boat.’

‘She loves the filmTitanic. Is it ridiculous?’

I don’t know how to tell him that that boat sinks at the end. ‘Not at all. We hear of some pretty ridiculous proposal plans in the shop,’ I explain. ‘Isn’t that right, Joe?’

‘Yes,’ he adds. ‘Mainly involving animals. That never ends well.’

He takes a large nervous breath and I hold his hand, looking him straight in the eye.

‘Are you here with anyone else today? Did you bring any moral support?’

He shakes his head at us.

‘Tell me about your girlfriend,’ I ask him quietly as he leans into me.

‘Please… Girlfriend? I am not fifteen. She’s my best friend. The very best friend I could ask for.’ I grin to see his eyes soften to talk about her. ‘Gloria, her name is Gloria. She has blue eyes.’

‘And how did you meet?’

‘The internet.’

Joe coughs for a moment to stifle his laughter and Frank shakes his head at him. ‘Oh, you can laugh away. It was my granddaughter who told me to get on there. My previous wife passed away ten years ago, and we thought it was time that I perhaps did something with the time I had left… to give love a second chance…’

I pause a moment to take in his words.To give love a second chance. I think of someone broken, love lost and then a heart repaired, ready to love again.

‘Did you find her on Tinder?’ Joe asks.

‘You cheeky sod. It was Match. I won’t lie, I met some right sorts on there but then I met Gloria and she’s… well, she’s everything. She’s lovely.’

‘Cooo-eeee! Frank!’ a voice screeches from behind us. Joe widens his eyes at me. We turn to see Gloria stood there waving at us, complete with Christmas dress and Santa hat. ‘You told me this was a Christmas champagne cruise. You’re not even dressed for it,’ she moans.

He laughs at her, a twinkle in his eye to see her excitement. ‘Well, you look marvellous, my dear. Gloria, this is Eve and Joe.’ Given Gloria has never met us before or has no idea who we are, she wraps her arms around us, and I get it. I get why you would want this exuberance in your life. ‘Don’t you look lovely? It’s an actual boat! Frank, this is fabulous!’ She attaches herself to Joe, linking her arm into his. ‘Shall we?’

‘Oh, we’re not coming on board. We’re just staff. Of sorts… Do have fun though,’ Joe explains.

‘Rubbish. Come on board,’ Frank says, clutching my hand. ‘Have a drink… My treat.’

‘There is room, Mr Truman,’ the lady with the clipboard says, appearing next to us. I turn to Joe who looks mildly panicked. But the panic is felt more in the fingers clasped around my hand. Frank is petrified. Of what? The possible rejection? She wouldn’t say no, would she? But it makes my heart melt to think that he’s so invested in this moment that it’s giving him the jitters. You can do this. Just say it, tell her how much you love her, any person would want to hear that.

‘Well, maybe we can come on board for a glass of something… Joe?’ I suggest. I don’t know why. It feels a little presumptuous to get on the boat and be a part of the proposal but maybe there’s a small part of me that wants to witness this, to see love get its second chance, to maybe prop up poor Frank who looks a tad pale.

Joe seems to be shaking his head at me subtly, but I can’t quite tell what he’s trying to communicate. The grasp around my hand gets a little tighter. This man needs our help. ‘Well then, anchors away… Let’s get on board.’

Joe

When you come from Brighton, it is expected that you know the ocean, you understand the sea because you’ve spent your formative years looking at it, living by it, swimming in it. I’ve done all of that. No problems with any of that. But I live with an unfortunate affliction of not being able to handle boats. Put me on the open water in any sort of vessel and my body does seem to reject the idea quite aggressively. My most searing memory is of being on a ferry to France with my family and I spent the full hour chundering so badly that I knocked myself out on a wash basin and we spent the first two days of that French vacation in a French hospital, treating me for concussion and rehydration.Madame, I would recommend that we keep your son away from the boats. He has, I don’t know how to say this in English, but a sickness of the sea.

Now, against all my better judgement, this very jolly lady called Gloria in her fur-lined Santa hat is grabbing on to me, and we’re boarding a boat. We were only supposed to drop off the rings at the pier. That was the deal. Now we’re passengers. Alongside a strange motley crew of people who’ve come to appreciate the festive wonder of the Thames, everyone from families in matching jumpers to tourists with selfie sticks who’ve been sold this cruise as part of their package holidays. There’s also a Santa. With a saxophone.

‘OH MY, FRANK! It’s beautiful! Isn’t it beautiful, Joe?’ Gloria asks me. I nod. Yes, Gloria. There are Christmas trees, holly garlands, lights and snowflake confetti on the table. It’s all a dream but all I can feel is the unsteadiness of the floor, swaying from side to side. ‘Let’s go on the deck, Frank!’ she says, parting ways with me, leaving me standing by the bar with Eve, my legs slightly apart trying to keep my balance.

‘Are you surfing?’ Eve asks me. ‘What are you doing?’

I grab on to her arm and steady myself at the bar. ‘You didn’t tell me we’d be going on the actual boat. This was not the plan. You keep changing the plan,’ I say, vaguely annoyed.

‘We have time. I didn’t think anything of it. The poor man looked so nervous. I thought it’d be nice to offer some support. He’s so old… Why are your eyes doing that?’ she asks me.

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