It started with a kiss.........
Well, almost.
Christmas Day 2011 was the day that T popped the question to K by presenting her with an antique sapphire and diamond ring. She didn't sling it back at him and so, they reckoned, they must be engaged, after seven years of getting to know each other.
Apart from setting the date, deciding on the outfit, working out a guest list, finding a venue and all the other minor details (well rehearsed after his son and her daughter were married last autumn), the other burning question was, where were they going to live.
You see, their relationship had been founded, indeed prospered, on the understanding that they continued to live in their own places 35 miles apart. T had been in his for ten years, K in hers for 9. They had kind of decided that, regardless of what their mothers might think (the fact that he was nearly sixty and she almost fifty made no difference to a mother's power over decisions of propriety!), they would carry on with the existing arrangement after their marriage. Some might consider it strange but hey, don't fix it until it's bust.
However, when T announced to his landlady that there was to be a wedding later in the year she responded by telling him that she needed to move back in to the house and that he would have to leave sometime in May (because she and him living together didn't seem to be an option!).
T made the decision to cut his losses and move sooner rather than later. The obvious, and quick, answer was to move to K's. The problem though was that K's place, a beautiful Victorian schoolhouse, didn't really lend itself to full time accommodation for two people.
