I find that my enthusiasm for Valentine’s Day has been greatly rekindled over the last few years – not least because it was on the 14th February, three years ago, that I asked Kickass Canada Girl to marry me. As should be readily apparent by now she did me the the very great honour of accepting me.
It did not take me long after meeting the Girl to reach the conclusion that she must surely be most chaps’ idea of the dream woman. Yes – she is ‘preposterously pretty’ (and that compliment came from another woman!) but consider also the following:
- The Girl managed the (male) rugby team at college
- She likes classic sports cars (and drives pretty damned fast herself)
- She drinks single malts
This much I discovered on our first date. Before long I had also established that in Canada she had turned out on a regular basis for her local softball and darts teams and I have since seen for myself how competitive she can be on an ATV or a Skidoo. Now – should this give the impression that the Girl is a bit of a tomboy let me reassure you that she is all woman, not to mention whip-smart and funny to boot.
She also sets high standards, so I knew that a proposal would need to score pretty highly if I hoped for a quick answer in the affirmative.
I like to think that I am something of a romantic, and I now thought back to our first date. We met at the National Theatre – a favourite haunt of mine – before walking along the South Bank to Bankside and crossing the wobbly bridge (which, naturally, doesn’t… any more) to St Paul’s Cathedral. There we climbed to the top of the dome and looked out over the capital together.
I decided that for Valentine’s Day 2009 we would recreate that first walk, but with an additional stop at a rather good restaurant overlooking the river just north of the bridge. We had already talked about getting married and I think the Girl was half-expecting a proposal. She certainly seemed a little put out when we were seated at a table by the picture windows rather than in one of the more intimate booths at the back. We had a splendid meal and a good bottle of wine, but the conversation steered clear of matters of the heart.
After lunch I suggested that for old times’ sake we might perhaps visit the cathedral. Kickass Canada Girl didn’t seem entirely keen but agreed to go along with the idea. When we reached the spot immediately under the centre of the dome – in front of various clerics and a crowd of Japanese tourists – I made a brief speech and went down on one knee to propose in time-honoured fashion. From her reaction – the Girl didn’t know whether to laugh or cry – I took it that things had gone reasonably well.
Since then, of course, they have gone exceedingly well and I am deeply in her debt… a debt that I shall do my best to repay over the years ahead.
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