Chapter 7
So, plan number two.
Olivia thrived on preparation, not winging it, shudder. She sat in her high-ceilinged office in Beaumont Street, her lawyer perspective firmly engaged to consider all the outcomes, rather than worrying about just one.
That was part of her job as a conscientious solicitor. And personally, it comforted her to know the worst-case scenario. It felt less out of control knowing the boundaries, as long as she didn’t hyperfocus on the worst, but still... Most of the time it worked.
Now to plan for the best-case scenario.
She wanted to marry Kate. There was no hiding that. And although Kate was level-headed and loving, with her feet on the ground, her family and past were complicated.
So, two things to consider:
First, a draft prenuptial agreement, a starting point to hand over to another lawyer, that considered Kate’s two children and their child together.
She worked on that until dusk when she packed her briefcase and slipped into neat black trainers and a smart woollen coat and tied her scarf in a perfect knot.
And second...
Olivia smiled, softening as she padded down the stairs away from her office. That she wanted to give Kate a ring.
She slowed her pace as she stepped into lamp-lit Beaumont Street.
The enormous Christmas tree beside the columned entrance of the Ashmolean Museum scattered icy white light over the building as if covered in frost. Warmer lamps glowed from inside the Randolph Hotel on the opposite side of the street.
The awning entrance to the grand hotel was threaded in wreaths, baubles and fairy lights and people laughed inside the cosy, low-lit restaurant and bar, sitting at tables beneath sparkling candelabras.
One week to Christmas and the whole city had a magic about it.
Sometimes she wondered if she was becoming as sentimental as her mother. This is what having young children and babies did to you. Not even an entire day as a detached and calculating lawyer seemed to erase it.
Going soft, Millie had accused her. And she’d cast Millie a withering glance, which received a laugh and a, “That’s the Olivia I know and love,” which earned another.
She had time to spare before picking up Zoe, and she turned right into the town centre, cutting past the Oxford Union building towards the high arcade entrance of the large shopping centre.
Oh god.
She hesitated. Bright and busy and noisy with Christmas shoppers with just a week to go. Rammed with them. Carollers too.
This was the trouble with Christmas. People.
She remained very much herself regarding this matter.
There was a lot to be said for buying a pile of books, late November, and not coming out again until January.
She’d overheard a retired woman planning this at the counter of Blackwells, while handing over a beautiful stack to the bookseller.
And everyone in the shop had looked toward her with a kind of longing.
With Kate’s kids as big readers, she could imagine all four of them and Zoe hibernating with books.
But she needed to push on. She wanted this more than she abhorred a crowd.
She stopped at the first glistening shop she found, the whole window shining with lights, gems and gold. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to recover from the glare.
Rings. Where were rings?
She’d never looked for an engagement ring before.
People cooed and aahed over them, flashing a diamond ring when getting engaged to a man, but she didn’t particularly like diamonds.
Or men. Not romantically. Men didn’t make much of an impression on her often.
And diamonds may as well have been broken glass.
Honestly, she had no idea why either were prized.
Here. Gold bands of wedding rings. Oh this glare gave her a headache. And next to them, a cushion of rows and rows of sparkling...well diamonds she supposed.
She stood up straight. How was she meant to choose, when every single arrangement was as unappealing as the next. Would Kate like any of these? Kate would be the one wearing it, so it was imperative she did.
Then, a display behind the rings pulled her attention, and she caught her breath in shock. Kate stared at her, unimpressed and moody in black and white, remote and larger than life. The movie star that Olivia had admired.
Olivia stepped back, before fully comprehending it as a promotional photo of Kate advertising a chunky watch. Her confidence drained, with a cool distance introduced between them. Her world spun and the worst-case scenario loomed large.
What was she doing?
She turned on her heel and headed towards the exit.
What on earth had she been thinking, asking Kate to marry her. She put her head down to hide her shame and overwhelm.
The enormity of Kate rejecting her proposal would be too huge to bear. Olivia rationally understood the many reasons, and the desire to avoid another ended marriage. But she’d never cope with being the partner Kate said no to.
She pushed towards the road again, and began to breathe, mist clouding above her head in the streetlight. She couldn’t go back in there. Too much. And she kept walking, calmed by the promise she’d be home with Kate after picking up their daughter.
The further she wandered from the crowds, the quieter her mind became, filling with perspective and reality again.
What if there was a sliver of a chance that Kate said yes?
In fact, what if she waited for Olivia to mention it?
What if Kate assumed Olivia saw too much of divorce and was too cynical to tie the knot?
Olivia slowed as she reached Carfax and the High Street, the ancient road quieter away from the new shopping centre.
She hesitated by a tiny jeweller’s shop with old-fashioned windows on either side of a central door.
The displays were uncluttered and gently lit, with silverware and jewellery, new and old.
And there, in a miscellaneous case, lay a silver ring with a green gemstone, the colour of Kate’s eyes.
She stared at the metal, soft and worn. At the complex and swirling gemstone, as fascinating as the pattern of Kate’s iris. She leant down and gazed at it, a serenity flooding over her at finding something perfect, like everything aligned and the world was harmonious again.
If she was going to ask Kate if she’d like to get married. Some place. Sometime. To her. This was the ring she’d like to offer.
She pushed at the old door, and a bell rang as it swung above her head.
“Can I help?” a middle-aged man behind the counter said.
She cleared her throat. “I’m interested in one of the rings.”
He unlocked the screen and brought out the cushion of rings, Olivia pointing to the one that had caught her eye.
“Would you like to try it on?”
“It's not for me.”
Oh. How excruciatingly. She wanted to flee. A girl wanting to propose, likely to another girl. She didn’t hide being gay often, but she flinched, vulnerable right now, not knowing how Kate would react.
But that ring... It was perfect.
The man peered over his glasses and gave an indulgent smile, the hint of acceptance that she needed.
“I could try it on as a guide, perhaps,” she suggested.
And he nodded with a broader smile and handed her the ring.
She carefully slid it onto her ring finger. Loose. But hers were more slender than Kate’s. She tried her index finger at his knowing suggestion. Apparently she'd said Kate had larger fingers out loud, as if everyone in the universe wanted a running commentary like Zoe.
And there. It wouldn’t go over her knuckle, which might be exactly the right size for Kate.
“I’ll take it.”
Then she nearly had a breakdown at the price.
“It’s an appealing antique,” the man said. “We’ll buy it back if you need to sell.”
“Right,” she said.
So transparent, it was unbearable.
She tucked the blue-velvet box into her coat pocket, and the doorbell jingled overhead as she stepped outside.
“Good luck,” the man said, with another smile over his glasses.
“Thank you,” she managed.
And ran straight into Kate coming from the Wheatsheaf alleyway. Her Kate. The Kate she woke up to every morning, and wanted to for the rest of her life.