The title, really. I met this woman at a class I run at an adult learning centre and she’s so unique. Sweet, cute, and very caring. Plus totallygorgeous.
The only problem is she says she’s from the 1800s and weirdly I kind of believe her? She dresses like an old lady and has a really posh voice. She hasn’t got a clue how to use computers or her mobile phone which is how I met her. She got her aunt to make me a dress as well for this short form video idea we had and it’s exactly like something out ofBridgerton.
She came to computing classes and she legit didn’t even know what a credit card was. Then today I saw her online banking and she’s got a hundred grand in her bloody current account and no idea how much it is.
I was already kinda freaked out that she lived with her two super rich aunts in some central London mansion and now it turns out she’s super rich herself. I’m from a council estate FFS. Not even sure how I’d introduce her to my family.
Is it weird that I want to carry on with our relationship? I kind of don’t mind about the whole Regency lady thing but I’m not sure how I feel about dating someone so completely different to me.
Hetty clicked on ‘View all comments.’ It was a mixed bag, but all the top-voted opinions were things like ‘Stop moaning about your super rich pretty girlfriend’ and ‘Does it really matter if she’s a bit mental if you like her? Because it sounds like you really do.’
Her phone vibrated with another message from Stella:Happy Christmas – hope you had a nice time with the Aunts.Sorry I freaked out. Shall we take two on that shopping trip? I’m off work tomorrow. See you outside River Island at 10?
Hetty collapsed backwards onto her bed with relief. It had been a long, worrying Christmas without Stella, however cosy it had been sitting around eating Aggie’s enormous roast lunch and drinking Jemima’s home-brewed spirit she called ‘Damson Gut Rot’. They’d still been drunk on Boxing Day.
She hit the green button next to Stella’s name, seeking her voice: needing to know for certain that everything was going to be okay.
‘Hetty?’ Stella sounded even more exhausted than Hetty. ‘You know nobody calls people on the phone, right?’
‘Why does it let me, then?’
‘Fair enough.’
Hetty heard Stella moving and realised she must be in bed. She felt a rising blush touch her ears. ‘So … You’ve changed your mind? You’ll still court me?’
Stella huffed with laughter.
‘Court you… ! Hetts, I never made my mind up in the first place. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel like this. But you tell me you’re from 18-something—’
‘1817.’
‘Okay, 1817. So you’re by far the strangest girlfriend I’ve ever, ever had. Even stranger than the girl who kept frogs, and the girl who used to steal wallpaper, and even the girl who couldn’t have sex unless she was watching a live recording of Metallica’s 2003 Summer Sanitorium tour.’
‘My goodness, that’s a lot of suitors …! All those women…’ said Hetty.
‘Yes, and not one of them was from the 1800s, Hetty.’ Stella broke off, sighing, then continued, ‘But you really arefrom then, aren’t you? I’ve barely got my head around that. You’re, like, two hundred years old! You come from a place that didn’t even have cars! And your main concern – your primary worry, in all of this, Hetty – is my dating history?’
Hetty sank back against her headboard, fisting her hand in her pillow. ‘Well, I don’t have one,’ said Hetty in a small voice. ‘A history, that is. Nobody has ever courted me before. Marriage has never been on my horizon before.’
‘Marriage?’ Stella snorted. ‘Oh, Hetty. You’re getting a bit carried away, aren’t you? And anyway, marriage is a bit old-fashioned, isn’t it?’
Hetty didn’t know how to respond, but Stella had started laughing.
‘Don’t worry, Hetts – it’s an adventure. And the only way to go on an adventure is one step at a time. One foot in front of another.’
‘That’s the wisest thing I’ve ever heard, I think.’
Stella laughed again. ‘I know, right? I got it off Reddit.’
Hetty had slept like the dead. The next morning Aggie taught her how to use the map app on her phone and keyed in River Island, a worryingly modern-looking, sharp-edged shop that was far larger and more intimidating than Hetty would have liked. The Christmas lights were almost dazzling, tourists occasionally jostling her as they made their way from one attraction to the next, but Hetty was already getting used to it. The busyness didn’t bother her when it was Stella she was waiting for.
She stood nervously on the opposite side of the road away from the main thoroughfare, simultaneously excited and fearful of seeing Stella again.
But when Stella appeared she immediately wrapped Hetty in a huge hug. She melted into her, oblivious to her sincere apology, gratefully sliding her chilled hand into Stella’s delightfully warm one as they crossed the road.
‘I’m so sorry, Hetty. Like I said on the phone, I didn’t mean to freak out. I just … I dunno, I don’t know any rich people. Or Regency ladies, obviously,’ Stella said. ‘But then I remembered that you’re just Hetty.’
‘No, I’m sorry. I should have told you earlier about everything. I was just … scared. That you’d … I don’t know …’
