‘So, you’re definitely moving?’ my best friend, Maureen asked.
‘Well, we haven’t had the estate agent round, but I’m beginning to declutter. We’ve had a look at a couple of properties near Paul and his wife. It’s a bit more expensive, but we’re planning on downsizing.’
Maureen made a face, ‘It’s only an hour and a half on a good day,’ I said, rather optimistically. ‘I hope you’ll visit.’
‘Of course, Sue,’ she promised. ‘I understand you’ll want to be near Paul now there’s a baby on the way.’
Brian and I had been late starters. We’d met and married in our forties. Paul was our only child. We wanted to be part of his life and you can’t be hands-on if you’re too far away.
‘I’m trying to get Brian to part with his videos. I’m surprised the VCR still works!’
‘Don’t be too hard on him,’ Maureen said. She’d always had a soft spot for him, ever since he’d asked her to help him make me a birthday cake. ‘He’s such a romantic. He’s the only man I know to carefully transfer his wedding photo, year after year, into the front of his new diary. And he proudly shows it off as though you were newly-weds!’
‘That’s because most men you know, don’t have a paper diary any more,’ I pointed out, but she wasn’t having any of it.
Apart from the precious video collection, Brian was decluttering too. Already the house looked bigger.
The estate agent rang. ‘Yes, Wednesday’s good for me,’ I told him, checking my Smartphone. ‘Hold on a moment while I look in my husband’s diary.’ Wednesday was clear, so I booked the appointment.
It was only then I realised there was no photo. I checked the front and back and snapped it shut. I shouldn’t really be looking in his diary; it was like opening his letters, and I’d never do that.
I threw myself into spring cleaning to blot out the hurt. For the first time in 30 years our wedding photo hadn’t been glued to the inner page of Brian’s diary.
By the time he’d returned from the allotment, I’d boxed up our CD collection for the charity shop. I could get all the music we needed from my phone.
‘Trust me,’ I told him. ‘We can still listen to them.’ To prove the point, I made a random choice. Brian smiled as Andy Williams sang out, ‘You’re too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you…’
‘Must we get rid of these too?’ he asked as he spotted the DVDs neatly stacked in another box.
‘Who needs these when we’ve got Netflicks?’ I asked. He nodded but dug his heels in when it came to his books. He’d been a librarian and I knew I’d never convert him to a Kindle.
Our home was worth more than we thought, according to the estate agent, not that it would make much difference in Paul’s area.
I felt a twinge of guilt as Brian reached for his diary and I got my phone as we arranged for the photographer to visit. Now wasn’t the time to ask about our wedding photo.
I still hadn’t mentioned it the following day when Brian marched in with a bunch of carnations – my favourite.
‘Good thinking,’ I said. ‘They’ll look good in the photos.’
‘I didn’t buy them for that,’ Brian looked surprised. ‘I bought them for you. I know you like them, especially the orange ones.’
So, romance hasn’t gone, just the photograph. I bit my tongue.
The professional photographer snapped away and I couldn’t help feeling sad at leaving our old home, but we both knew it was the right decision. Brian squeezed my hand and I knew he must be feeling the same.
Fortunately, the first couple who viewed our house, put in a good offer which we accepted. We had a glass of red, to celebrate. It gave me the courage to ask about our old wedding photo.
‘Ah!’ Brian said with a huge grin. ‘I thought you’d never ask. I keep it close to my heart, on my phone!’
‘On your phone?’ I echoed. I couldn’t believe he’d gone digital. At last!
I watched as he took his ancient, but still working, Nokia, out of his breast pocket. Proudly he turned it round for me to see where he’d stuck our wedding picture to the back of the phone. It wallpapered over the camera, but then he never used that, so what did it matter?
And I’d thought, for a moment, he’d moved into the 21st century!
I smiled, relieved he still loved me, and kissed his cheek. I wouldn’t really have him any other way. He’s still the most romantic man I’ve ever known.
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