Dinner at Mario’s

I touched the little box in my pocket and smiled. I was all ready for our date tonight. I had booked an intimate table in a discreet corner of Mario’s, the top class Italian restaurant in town. I had not told Angela where we were going, it was to be a surprise. I had ordered a dozen red roses which were to be delivered to Mario’s and produced on our arrival. I wanted everything to be just perfect.

It was 7.30pm. Our table was booked for eight, so I just had time to have a quick drink before the taxi came for me. I would pick up Angela on the way. I couldn’t wait to propose, but I needed a bit of Dutch courage. I had been after Angela for years, but she was always so popular with other men that she hardly had eyes for the likes of me. I couldn’t believe it when she finally agreed to go out with me, and we have been seeing each other for three months now. I wasn’t going to let her escape, and now I had the chance to ask her to marry me.

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Dinner at Mario’s (3 points of view)

Dinner at Mario’s – Roger’s Story (First Person p.o.v.)

I touched the little box in my pocket and smiled. I was all ready for our date tonight. I had booked an intimate table in a discreet corner of Mario’s, the top class Italian restaurant in town. I hadn’t told Angela where she was going, it was to be a surprise. I had ordered a dozen red roses which were to be delivered to Mario’s and produced on our arrival. I wanted everything to be just perfect.

It was 7.30pm. Our table was booked for eight, so I just had time to have a quick drink before the taxi came for me. I would pick up Angela on the way. I couldn’t wait to propose, but I needed a bit of Dutch courage. I had been after Angela for years, but she was always so popular with other men that she hardly had eyes for the likes of me. I couldn’t believe it when she finally agreed to go out with me, and we have been seeing each other for three months now. I wasn’t going to let her escape, and now I had the chance to ask her to marry me.

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A sympathetic friend

I wanted to sympathise with her, but inwardly I was elated that they had broken up. Rob had been my childhood sweetheart, later my boyfriend on and off throughout my teens. Jenny, my sister, had taken him away from me when I was nineteen. At the time, I was devastated, but I just shrugged my shoulders, saying that we were only ships passing in the night. Rob and I had been good mates, but he was always one with an eye for the girls, and I knew he would break my heart sooner or later.

She was a wonderful liar

She was a wonderful liar, my sister, always had been. Only I knew the truth.

Now there was likely to be a confrontation, here in my house. Ruth, my best friend, had come round in distress to tell me that she suspected that her husband, Des, was having an affair. My sister was visiting me at the same time, and she sat sympathising with Ruth as she voiced her suspicions. “You can’t trust a man further than you can throw him,” said my sister. “You should kick him out!” I glared at her. I could say nothing – how could I? She was my sister, and anyway, I didn’t want to upset my best friend Ruth any more than she already was.

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The song would be with me ever since

What a difference one moment in time can make! Why had I chosen to take that particular day off work? Alright, I’d not slept well and had woken with a splitting headache, but was that really enough to make me call in sick? I usually just took a couple of Paracetamol and got on with things, but that day I was feeling sorry for myself, and I had crawled back into my inviting bed after having waved my husband off to work as usual. I had exaggerated the headache when I called my boss, who was very sympathetic as she suffered migraines too. How lovely to languish in my comforting bed for another hour or two, such a rare luxury!

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