‘Putting the car in the garage. I’ll take up my bag…’
‘Supper’s ready.’ Her mother looked at her. ‘Tired, Jo?’ Her eye fell on her daughter’s ringless hand but she didn’t say anything.
‘Five minutes—I’ll start dishing up.’
They had eaten supper and Josephine and her mother were washing the dishes while her father caught up with the paper work before Mrs Dowling said, ‘You’re not wearing your ring, Jo?’
It was the opening she had been waiting for but now that she had it it was hard to begin. She stacked plates carefully. ‘Well, no Mother. I—I was going to tell you and Father. We—that is I, decided that we didn’t suit each other. I’ve left it a bit late, haven’t I? Only three months from the date we’d fixed, but somehow I couldn’t go on with it. I thought I loved Malcolm, truly I did, but last time, when I was home out walking with Cuthbert I suddenly knew that I didn’t want to marry him, so I told him.’ She sighed. ‘He was angry but he had every right to be. Just for a few days I felt awful, I mean, I’d got used to the idea of getting married.’
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