office and Frensic followed. The bloody woman would want a ring. Just so long as it wasn't too expensive. It was.
'I think I like the solitaire,' she told the jeweller in the Broad. Frensic flinched at the price and was about to put his entire scheme in jeopardy when he was struck by a brilliant thought. After all, what was five hundred pounds when his entire future was at stake?
'Oughtn't we to have it engraved?' he said as Cynthia put it on her finger and admired its brilliance.
'What with?' she cooed.
Frensic simpered. 'Something secret,' he whispered, 'something we two alone will understand. A code d'amour.'
'Oh you are awful,' said Miss Bogden. 'Fancy thinking of something like that.' Frensic glanced at the jeweller uncomfortably and applied his lips to the perm again.
'A code of love,' he explained.
'A code of love?' echoed Miss Bogden. 'What sort of code?'
'A number,' said Frensic, and paused. 'Some number that only we would know had brought us together.'
'You mean...?'
'Exactly,' said Frensic forestalling any alternatives, 'after all, you typed the book and I published it.'
'Couldn't we just have Till Death Do Us Part?'
'Too much like the TV series,' said Frensic who had very much earlier intentions. He was saved by the jeweller.
'You'd never get that inside the ring. Not Till Death Do Us Part. Too many letters.'
'But you could do numbers?' said Frensic.
'Depends how many.'
Frensic looked enquiringly at Miss Bogden. 'Five,' she said after a moment's hesitation.
'Five,' said Frensic. 'Five teeny weeny little numbers that are our code of love, our own, our very own itsy bitsy secret.' It was his last desperate act of heroism. Miss Bogden succumbed. For a moment she had...but no, a man who could in the presence of an austere jeweller By Appointment to Her Majesty talk openly about five teeny weeny itsy bitsy numbers that were their code of love, such a man was above suspicion.
'Two oh three five seven,' she simpered.
'Two oh three five seven,' said Frensic loudly. 'You're quite sure? We don't want to make any mistakes.'
'Of course I'm sure,' said Miss Bogden, 'I'm not in the habit of making mistakes.'
'Right,' said Frensic plucking the ring from her finger and handing it to the jeweller, 'stick them on the inside of the thing. I'll be back to collect it this afternoon,' and taking Miss Bogden firmly by the arm he steered her towards the door.
'Excuse me, sir,' said the jeweller, 'but if you don't mind...'
'Mind what?' said Frensic.
'I would prefer it if you paid now sir. With engraving, you understand, we have to...'
Frensic understood all too well. He released Miss Bogden and sidled back to the counter.
'Er...well...' he began but Miss Bogden was still between him and the door. This was no time for half-measures. Frensic took out his cheque book.
'I'll be with you in a moment, dear,' he called. 'You just go over the road and look at dresses.'
Cynthia Bogden obeyed her instincts and stayed where she was.
'You do have a cheque card, sir?' said the jeweller.
Frensic looked at him gratefully. 'As a matter of fact, I don't. Not on me.'
