Molli and the Pearl wedding jewellery
‘The diamonds,’ he repeated, in his customary assured and confident tone, ‘we’ve got the money.’ ‘ Hmmm’, was her only answer. Bart – or Bartholemew Augustine Meredith to be exact – rolled his eyes towards the ceiling; he was given to dramatic expressions of his feelings. Molli, his fiancé – Daphne Hillary Molière – ran her delicate pianist’s fingers along the glass cabinet while seemingly mulling over the myriad choices; but Bart knew, and the jeweller knew, that although she was holding the delicate, diamond heart-shaped earrings in her hand, she really wanted the pearls.
Bart knew his love. He knew she had his needs always at the centre of her actions, so he waited patiently while she asked to look at this set or those, looking at them but not looking at them as her eyes kept moving back to the blue velvet box wherein lay the pearl wedding jewellery of her dreams. Bart wandered off towards the entrance where a whole city of jewellery sparkled. His Mercedes sat outside the Hatton Garden jewellers, watched by a friendly security guard that had become even friendlier when handed half a torn ten pound note. He would go back and help her decide on the diamonds. He would be the boss in their marriage, never mind how much money and class her family brought to the arrangement. He would make the decisions.
Mollie was speaking to the jeweller. Had she made up her mind? Then suddenly she was coming out of the shop with a silk bag hanging daintily from her wrist. ‘What? What’s this?’ ‘It’s alright Darling I’ve paid.’ She was smiling. ‘Oh did you want to buy the pearls for me, how sweet. I know, you can buy the diamonds for my birthday. Shall we go?’ she said as she swung gracefully into the driver’s seat.
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