This must be the most uncomfortable bed I have ever had. The pillow is so hard. I can’t get to sleep but I’m so tired. It’s so noisy. My cot was so cosy. I can still remember the first night in the big bed; it seemed so scary with no bars to peer through. The best night was as a teenager when I rebelled against my dad by going to bed in the nude. That was comfortable. I wish I could get this bed more comfortable. Why is everyone staring at me and mumbling? The first night with my first girlfriend, now that was a good night but I didn’t get much sleep. And the first night in a double bed – so much room to explore and experiment. Now we have our first bed on order for our new flat, Dee and me. It was fun trying it out in the shop – the look the salesman gave us as we cuddled – I think he thought we were going to go all the way. What a laugh – no, it hurts to laugh.

Today started so well with the letter confirming our mortgage and the brochure from the Manor House where we are going for the reception. It seemed the perfect omen for coming to buy the ring. Someone is trying to give me a pillow but it doesn’t matter now, I’m feeling much more comfortable, my legs are so relaxed I can hardly feel them. My Deirdre deserves the best and where else but Bond Street? I can hear her now scolding me for interfering. “You should have got on the floor with the others, not tried to stop them, you dope. No diamond ring is worth getting killed for.”