I have a thing about fine jewellery, in fact I firmly believe that good quality contemporary jewellery should last you a lifetime. Costume jewellery strikes me as lasting a weekend on the town and if it gets lost then it’s really not much of an issue. I never scrimp on jewellery that I purchase for my wife, I would rather save a little longer and get her something as opposed to buying her something sub standard. I love surprises and she likes my taste, so it’s pretty safe for me to pick, but it all started with her engagement ring.

I spent considerable time, stress, money and effort in picking my wife’s engagement ring. I can remember it clearly: I was 23 at the time and had been considering asking her to marry me, we had already discussed it so I had a fair inclination that she would say yes. I remember that I trawled the shops for several weeks before finding “the” ring. Eventually, I found the one that I wanted but the jeweller was closed for the evening.

The following morning before work I queued at opening time and as the shutters went up, I was first in; the lady behind the counter didn’t know what to think. I asked her to bring out the tray with the piece that I had chosen and just as she did another customer walked into the shop. I picked up the one that I wanted, a simple gold ring, set with three stunning diamonds set across a twist. It sparked in the halogen lighting and gave off a rainbow of colours. Bizarrely, all I could think about was the Dark Side of The Moon cover, but that’s not really relevant just now.

The other customer burst my little daydream by announcing she wanted the ring that I was holding, “well tough, lady, I’m buying it”. She was a snobby type and there was me standing in a pair of old Levis with long hair and a faded shirt.  One swipe with the rubber credit card later, the ring was mine and firmly burning a hole in my jeans, leaving behind one disgruntled “hoorah, Henry”.

I went straight to work that day and in a panic told one of my work colleagues that I had made a terrible mistake. After a little short banter, details omitted for obscenities, he agreed that it was indeed a stunning ring but not to be silly and do not under any circumstances to get married (painful divorce for him). Just take it back, nobody will ever know.

Two weeks passed and I had planned an intimate dinner, but that night after doing the dishes, the ring was just driving me up the wall. I asked her to marry me, bent on one knee by the fridge and her very response was, “don’t be silly, you’ve not even got a ring.”  Oh, but yes, I have, my dear. One wedding and four kids later, we are still married, and she now has an eternity ring to compliment her diamond twist. I picked that too.