Intrepid Optimist is the place where I can share my stories; fact, fiction and thoughts from the past and present. It’s Written by myself for people who believe adventure knows no age
“Come now Jane.” Elizabeth provoked her as they threaded their way through the bargain hunters crowding King Street. “You should be relieved that the last one is almost off your hand’s.”
“No. Not at all.” Replied Jane, not reacting to Elizabeth’s teasing. “You should know the last thing I wanted at this moment is Ruth getting married.”
“But darling,” Elizabeth continued in the same vein, “She’s the final one of your brood and it really is time she flew the nest.”
“Elizabeth. I’ve already four married daughters. Two are moderately happy with the wrong men and two are relatively unhappy with the right men and I think Ruth is still not ready for matrimony.”
“Twenty-four is not young anymore Jane and isn’t it better that she marries Paul instead of them just living together as everyone else appears to be doing these days?”
“You’re wrong my dear. I don’t condone couples living in sin, as they used to say; especially my youngest daughter but I would almost have preferred them to have lived together for a while and see what happens.”
“Well. Well. That certainly doesn’t sound like the Jane I know. Did you suggest that to Ruth?”
“Good Lord. No. But Ruth might just have come to her senses and seen the light..”
“Jane. Answer me something. Do you approve of Paul?”
“Oh God! What am I supposed to say? I like him. I like him a lot but…”
“ I thought as much. You haven’t accepted him have you?”
“No. Not really.” Said Jane, stopping suddenly and turning to face Elizabeth, “Would you?”
“I don’t know Jane. He’s got everything, money, a thriving practice and he is attractive, don’t you think?”
“Oh come on. You know full well what I mean.”
“Yes. I suppose I should.” Replied Elizabeth as they moved on again. “Doe his religion bother you?”
“Strange to say that is not a problem. We’re Church of England but we don’t go to church so often. That’s why tomorrow’s is a civil wedding.”
“And your other daughters. How are they taking it?”
“They keep trying to convince me that everything will be alright and that I shouldn’t worry. But neither do I believe they are in complete favour.”
“Well there you are then. Accept him for what he is. Oops! We’re already there.”
They reached the number they were searching for. Elizabeth checked the brass name plaques.
“What’s his surname darling?”
“Bijapur. Dr.Paul Swami Bijapur.” Jane answered softly.
Poetry & Medicine
An award-winning filmmaker and screenwriter talks movies.
If you don't look around once in a while, you might miss it - Ferris Bueller's Day Off
From Normandy to Windsor, Putting the British Monarchy in Context
Poetry by Ana Daksina
LOOKING INTO THE PAST ....
Weaving Stories, Curating Memories
Heroines needed. Capes optional.
Writing and art
MAKING A DIFFERENCE, ONE STEP AT A TIME
Writer & Author
Louise Jensen - Writer - www.louisejensen.co.uk