‘A brandy and port to lubricate my tubes,’ Sally said, and the boys opted for Barn Owl bitter for themselves.
Drinks served; Sally sashayed off to talk to the band. Owen and George settled at their regular table.
‘I’ve decided,’ George said, ‘about Millie,’
‘Oh, yes?’ Owen said, lifting his pint for the first drink of the day.
‘Yes. I’m going to ask her to marry me.’
Owen spluttered and sprayed beer in George’s direction.
George moved his chair back, just about avoiding a splattering of second-hand best bitter, offended by Owen’s reaction.
‘There’s no need to act so amazed. You know I love her.’
‘Yes, you said… and it’s been obvious, but marriage?’ Owen looked and sounded astounded.
‘I love her. She’s forgiven me for not telling her about my dad. She loves me, she said so. What’s so wrong with the idea?’
‘You’re twenty years old.’ Owen growled under his breath. ‘That’s what’s wrong.’
‘I’ll be twenty-one in June.’
‘Like that makes much difference.’ Owen shook his head and picked up his pint glass, taking a deep draught from it before he said, ‘Look, I get it that you think you are in love…’
‘I am,’ George argued, ‘It’s not “think”. I am in love.’
Ignoring the interruption, Owen continued, ‘You are still in education, no idea what you want to do for a job. The family mob breathing down your neck.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Just if you don’t get a career of your own choice sorted soon, your relatives will sort it for you.’
‘Never happen.’ George crossed his arms over his chest. ‘I’d tell them to piss off.’
‘All right, then how about this for a scenario?’ Owen suggested. ‘Say you hold off actually getting married until after university. Come back to London, find a job… any job. You said you didn’t care what you did. Then you and Millie would move in together. You can’t afford too much, so it’s a small one bed place not big enough to swing a cat…’
‘Bliss,’ George sighed happily.
Owen frowned and went on, ‘Six months, twelve months on. Millie tells you she’s pregnant.’
‘We’d take precautions.’
‘Condoms split. Pills get forgotten.’
‘So, we’d keep the baby. I want to be a dad.’
‘And what would you do for money? Babies are expensive. You’d need a bigger place to live for a start. You’d have to buy all that stuff that babies need, cot, pram, nappies. Then your two incomes would be reduced to one. You. The sole breadwinner, responsible for all the bills.’
‘I’d work hard.’
‘Sure you would.’
‘Mum would help.’
Owen took another mouthful of beer and swallowed hard. ‘Look George, I know your life has been tough in some ways, your dad and his family; they’re a nightmare, but most of the time you cruise. You’ve never had to worry about money. Your mum sees to everything you want. You only recently started applying yourself to your studies.’
‘And that was down to Millie.’
