been a dirty little gambler.
No, I will not call Josh.
At all.
No matter how blue his eyes are.
Now Iâm going to go home and see my fiancé. Wonderful, wonderful
Mark
. And Iâll try not to look too guilty as once again I tell him nothing about what is going on in my life.
Chapter Six
Today is the day that I am sorting out the wedding venue. I am. Really. Just because Iâve now been engaged for almost a month and I havenât booked anywhere, despite it being three months to the potential wedding, does not mean Iâve been burying my head in the sand.
No, Iâve been sorting myself out. Iâve deleted the bingo apps from my phone, yes,
occasionally
I used to use them. And Iâve also put parental locks on my laptop and put all the bingo sites I could remember the names of on the banned list. The bingo sites were already banned by our firewall at work, along with Facebook, external mail sites and Net-a-Porter. I made IT add the Net-a-Porter site, telling them one of our workers had an addiction to it. In reality it just means that I now actuallyleave my desk at lunchtimes and donât drool over handbags and clothes I canât afford.
So far blocking bingo out of my life has been working. I havenât lunged for the virtual dabber pen and Iâve managed to stay on the straight and narrow. Although I did nearly go and play actual bingo when I took a trip into town this morning. I had a moment of weakness as I walked past the bingo hall and then I saw an old woman with a blue rinse and it scared me that Markâs nan Violet might be there.
I also had a bit of a moment on Thursday when I nearly gambled but that was more to do with remembering how blue Joshâs eyes were and I just wanted to see them again. But then I remembered that with only five thousand pounds left I couldnât risk losing any more.
âYou surfing for wedding stuff?â asks Mark, sitting down in the armchair. I have a quick smell under my armpits just to make sure Iâm not smelling really bad, as why else would he choose to sit on the opposite side of the room from me?
âUh-huh.â
âThought so; youâve got the furrowed brow look. Donât worry, Iâm not looking. I just wanted to watch the footie. Is that OK?â
âYeah, fine.â
Phew. I donât smell after all. Heâs right about the furrowed brow, though. Iâve got to make sure that the wind doesnâtchange or else Iâll have a permanent state of confusion plastered across my face.
Iâm looking at those lovely, gorgeous wedding venues that Jane found. Iâve been trying to be all sensible and do my sums but the only way we could afford to spend £125 a head would be to only have forty guests. And the venue has a sixty-guest minimum. And then weâd have no money for anything else other than the venue and the food.
There has to be a cheaper way. Perhaps I could do some inventive Googling:
CHEAP WEDDING ABROAD
Oh, abroad. Just me and Mark. How romantic, just us on a beach at sunset. Iâm starting to get so swept up in the fantasy that I can feel the sand beneath my toes, the warm water lapping at my feet. But the daydream stops after the ceremony. What would we do after? I know what we would do
later
- I have a lot of fantasies about that. But Iâm talking immediately after. Would we have dinner, just the two of us?
âHow open are you to the idea of a wedding abroad?â I ask as nonchalantly as possible, so that he doesnât think it is our only option.
âWhere?â
âI donât know. I was just thinking, you and me on a beach together. Just the two of us.â
âWhat about our parents? And Nanny Violet? I donât think thatâs a good idea.â
Stupid family ruining everything. Mark is of course, right. I do want our family to be there. Or else imagine what my mum would write about me in the Christmas card. Not to mention Iâd
No, I will not call Josh.
At all.
No matter how blue his eyes are.
Now Iâm going to go home and see my fiancé. Wonderful, wonderful
Mark
. And Iâll try not to look too guilty as once again I tell him nothing about what is going on in my life.
Chapter Six
Today is the day that I am sorting out the wedding venue. I am. Really. Just because Iâve now been engaged for almost a month and I havenât booked anywhere, despite it being three months to the potential wedding, does not mean Iâve been burying my head in the sand.
No, Iâve been sorting myself out. Iâve deleted the bingo apps from my phone, yes,
occasionally
I used to use them. And Iâve also put parental locks on my laptop and put all the bingo sites I could remember the names of on the banned list. The bingo sites were already banned by our firewall at work, along with Facebook, external mail sites and Net-a-Porter. I made IT add the Net-a-Porter site, telling them one of our workers had an addiction to it. In reality it just means that I now actuallyleave my desk at lunchtimes and donât drool over handbags and clothes I canât afford.
So far blocking bingo out of my life has been working. I havenât lunged for the virtual dabber pen and Iâve managed to stay on the straight and narrow. Although I did nearly go and play actual bingo when I took a trip into town this morning. I had a moment of weakness as I walked past the bingo hall and then I saw an old woman with a blue rinse and it scared me that Markâs nan Violet might be there.
I also had a bit of a moment on Thursday when I nearly gambled but that was more to do with remembering how blue Joshâs eyes were and I just wanted to see them again. But then I remembered that with only five thousand pounds left I couldnât risk losing any more.
âYou surfing for wedding stuff?â asks Mark, sitting down in the armchair. I have a quick smell under my armpits just to make sure Iâm not smelling really bad, as why else would he choose to sit on the opposite side of the room from me?
âUh-huh.â
âThought so; youâve got the furrowed brow look. Donât worry, Iâm not looking. I just wanted to watch the footie. Is that OK?â
âYeah, fine.â
Phew. I donât smell after all. Heâs right about the furrowed brow, though. Iâve got to make sure that the wind doesnâtchange or else Iâll have a permanent state of confusion plastered across my face.
Iâm looking at those lovely, gorgeous wedding venues that Jane found. Iâve been trying to be all sensible and do my sums but the only way we could afford to spend £125 a head would be to only have forty guests. And the venue has a sixty-guest minimum. And then weâd have no money for anything else other than the venue and the food.
There has to be a cheaper way. Perhaps I could do some inventive Googling:
CHEAP WEDDING ABROAD
Oh, abroad. Just me and Mark. How romantic, just us on a beach at sunset. Iâm starting to get so swept up in the fantasy that I can feel the sand beneath my toes, the warm water lapping at my feet. But the daydream stops after the ceremony. What would we do after? I know what we would do
later
- I have a lot of fantasies about that. But Iâm talking immediately after. Would we have dinner, just the two of us?
âHow open are you to the idea of a wedding abroad?â I ask as nonchalantly as possible, so that he doesnât think it is our only option.
âWhere?â
âI donât know. I was just thinking, you and me on a beach together. Just the two of us.â
âWhat about our parents? And Nanny Violet? I donât think thatâs a good idea.â
Stupid family ruining everything. Mark is of course, right. I do want our family to be there. Or else imagine what my mum would write about me in the Christmas card. Not to mention Iâd
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