With that, the assistant glanced at the security guard to indicate that this couple was leaving.
Back on the street Danny took out his vape and inhaled deeply, blowing a plume of strawberry-flavoured vapour into the air, hoping to expel some of his humiliation with it.
‘Didn’t Audrey Hepburn’s character say – nothing bad can ever happen to you in Tiffany’s? Guess she never tried to buy an engagement ring for a fag.’
The two of them slow-walked towards Boucheron and De Beers although there was no chance that they would continue their search with any of the prestige brands or heritage houses. In fact, Danny wanted to call the search off altogether. Sophie countered, ‘I admit that was a setback. But I did some digging before I travelled down and I discoveredan independent jewellery designer. I already rang her and made it clear on the phone that it was for two guys. It turns out that she’s gay, but that’s not why I chose her. I love her work. She started out selling in Covent Garden Market and she did so well she opened her own store. I know you wanted to do this by the book, conventional and mainstream, but how about we queer-stream this operation and end up with a ring made by someone who’s excited for you rather than someone sneering at you.’
Danny remembered the real reason why he had asked for Sophie’s help. She was brilliant and she never gave up. He kissed her on the cheek.
‘I don’t think queer-stream is a word.’
Sophie seemed disappointed and asked if he was sure.
‘Pretty sure.’
Changing the subject, Sophie lowered her voice as if to share the most scandalous piece of gossip.
‘Remember the necklace Audrey Hepburn is wearing in Breakfast at Tiffany’s? When she’s eating the pastry out of the paper bag? Well, that necklace is Chanel.’
Danny smiled for the first time since being expelled from the jewellery store.
‘Shall I tell that to the security guard?’
With defiance they locked arms, leaving Bond Street behind them. If they wouldn’t be sold a ring, they would make their own.
Chapter TenWhat Will Luis Say?
The independent jeweller’s was a sliver of a shop squeezed in between a tattoo parlour and a Japanese-owned hairdresser’s on D’Arblay Street. More workshop than shopfront, in the window there was an industrial steel desk from a defunct factory in East Berlin, fitted with a counterbalance lamp and a magnifying glass. A bronze bell over the door announced Danny and Sophie’s arrival to the shop’s security – a copper-coloured German Shepherd. A woman in her fifties emerged from the back, wearing wire-rimmed glasses and an abattoir-style leather apron, her fingernails sparkling with shimmering gemstone dust as though she had been butchering stars out back. Sophie took the lead, offering her hand which the jeweller accepted, recapping their phone conversation. The jeweller turned to Danny,introducing herself as Abi, aghast that they had wasted their time on Bond Street.
‘Why did you bother? The attitude. The inflated prices.’
Danny pointed out, ‘We didn’t even get to the prices.’
Sensing her task was to turn the mood around, Abi pivoted.
‘Listen. No one loves weddings more than me. I married my wife before civil partnerships existed. We held our own commitment ceremony in Devon in an apple orchard. I made our rings. An artist friend of mine wrote our wedding certificate in sumi ink. Okay, it wouldn’t count in court, but it means the world to us. When we were finally allowed to turn it official, we applied for the legal documents, but we don’t hang those on our wall. The certificate my artist friend created, that’s the one we framed.’
Abi indicated for the three of them to sit on mismatched steel stools and asked what kind of ring Danny was looking for. At a loss, Danny shrugged.
‘I don’t know. I’ve no idea what an engagement ring for a guy should be. I’ve never seen one. In real life or in a movie.’
Abi waved away the pop culture references.
‘Forget the movies. Forget the magazines. This is your wedding and your ring. We’re going to create it from your mind. Did you bring a photo of Luis?’
Danny took out his phone and showed her a selection of photos of the two of them. Abi nodded.
‘Definitely marry this guy. He’s stunning. Does he wear any jewellery?’
Danny thought on the question.
‘He owns a silver crucifix which his grandfather gave him. But he never wears it.’
Abi correctly deduced that Danny had no idea about Luis’s ring size. Seeing him worry, she put her hand on his shoulder.
‘You’re not the first guy who doesn’t know their partner’s ring size. Is this engagement a real surprise or a pretend surprise?’
Danny thought hard on the question.
