My boyfriend’s eyes widen in horror. He leans back against the rail and gives a shake of his head.
‘Jasmine. . .’ he says very, very slowly. ‘I am not going to propose.’
‘Oh thank goodness for that!’
‘I was going to tell you that it’s over.’
More thunder.
‘OVER?’I shout across the little girl, now singing ‘We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together’.
It’s over?
‘Yes. Sorry Jasmine. It’s not working for me.’ James shrugs and turns to look out over a very soggy London.
‘What? That’s it? It’s just “not working”. That’s not a reason to break up. I need more information than that,’ I squeak.
James sighs and pats at his breast pocket one more time. Then he pulls out a handkerchief and hands it to me. Sothat’swhat he’d been storing in there all along.
‘You’ve got a bloody cheek to think I’d cry over this,’ I sniff, totally crying over this.
‘Oh Jas. Don’t be sad. It was fun while it lasted, right?’
‘So why can’t it carry on lasting?’ I whisper, willing the tears to piss off back into my eyeballs.
‘Look, I’m only twenty-six. . .’
‘SO AM I!’ I interrupt.
‘I’m just not ready for anything serious.’
‘Neither am I! I was freaking out when I thought you’d propose today. Freaking out, James.’
‘Yeah. . . that was never going to happen.’
Oof.
‘I’m meant to be meeting your family next weekend. That was your idea,’ I point out, my mind reeling.
‘I know. And I am sorry. To be honest, I was just trying to get Mum off my case. She’s been banging on about the seating plan for my sister’s wedding and insisted on me bringinga plus one. But it’s okay, because my mate Rob can come. He’s actually pretty excited about it ‘cos my sister has some fit mates and he really wants to bone a bridesmaid.’
Another rubble of thunder booms all around us. I stare at James in disbelief. The little girl is still working her way through Taylor Swift’s finest break up songs.
‘IT’S TOO SOON FOR SWIFTY’ I turn to her and yell. And when the ride is finally over I barge out of the pod in a rage, my bag of tanning products smacking into people as I make my escape.
Mila has gin. Mila does not object to emergency sorrow-drowning on a school night. Mila has just ordered fried chicken on delivery. Mila is the cheese on my taco and the jam in my doughnut. My bestest friend pours us both another drink as she tries to get to the bottom of why I thought James was going to propose.
‘Bruce and Violet planted the idea in my head,’ I sniff.
‘What does bloody Vomit know?’ She tuts. Mila calls my boss Vomit. Did I mention that she’s the best?
I examine the nails on my left hand. ‘It’s not Violet’s fault. I shouldn’t have been so stupid. I completely misread the situation. It was so embarrassing. I’m such a knob!’
‘You are not a knob,’ Mila soothes. ‘James is a knob. I mean, come on, who breaks up with someone on the London Eye? What an absolute c-unit.’
‘But he was my c-unit,’ I say feebly. ‘And now I’m single, again, I didn’t get any nice pictures on my cameraandI’m the proud owner of an expensive dress that I can’t return because I cut the tags out already. What am I going to do? I’m not sure I can face dating apps again. All that bloody messaging. It’s like a second job!’
Mila pulls me in for a cuddle.
