Seemingly, everything was as rosy as anyone had a right to expect. Yes, I'd got my girlfriend pregnant. Yes, people were not pleased, but yes, everything seemed to be unfolding in a civilised manner.
NO!!!!!! Hold the press. Remember that bit about re-writes at the end of part 3? Oh aye, we had re-writes alright! You go away at the end of the one episode thinking, ok, that's not to bad. Could be worse. But, and there always is a but, plans were a foot.
My dear mother and father decided that they needed a holiday - two weeks in France to have a think about what their silly little boy had done and stuff like that. And they probably drink a lot of wine, too. Which is what they 'd planned to do anyway?
Remember that but? (I've highlighted it, you can't miss it...about a paragraph back?) Will here it is (finally).
Sian's Mum and Dad were not to be so easily beaten off the scent. They'd smelt a wedding and by jingo they were going to have one. One evening I visited their house to see Sian and just do the usual - chat, spend time etc. But, in the greatest traditions and being on their turf - they ambushed me. I can't quite remember the details but by the time I'd left that night, I had agreed to go back on everything I'd said and marry their daughter as they'd originally planned.
If mistake number one was joining the every growing statistic of young un-married men getting young un-married girls pregnant, then mistake number two was being brow beaten into going along with their plan for me-domination.
Have you noticed how this sorry tale has suddenly taken a turn for the ridiculous. Is it me or is my prose getting flippant and that I'm loosing my grip?
It is me, isn't it?
I'd completely caved in, become a coward and all manner of spineless shits. Before my parents returned from France, I'd obtained a marriage license, a marriage date and Sian's family had set about drawing up a list for toasters, kettles and all manner of white goods to adorn the house that no doubt, the council was to provide. They'd even bought pickled eggs for the reception!
When my parents learnt of this, my mother wept even more and my father had one of those temper losing sessions in which he bore a passing resemblance to Norwegian god of war who'd heard something really bad and was really, really fighting the urge to go a-plundering and pillaging.
Then everything settled down again. Sian was happy and on the outside I looked happy - must've really, as everyone on her side of the family thought that everything was going swimmingly. They'd got their way. They'd won. Their little girl was going to get her day.
Inside, this was not what I wanted. The question was, could I find the courage to stand up for what I'd originally wanted? What I thought was the best for both me, her and our unborn child?
Tune in next time for the next exciting(?) episode..........
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