The Radfords – as told by Jo
Wasn’t Helen and Craig’s engagement romantic? Well, if romance isn’t for you, then never fear – the Radfords are here!
Where it all began
I feel like I need to set the scene a bit here so you know what you’re getting yourself into by reading on. It was 2nd January 2004, Matt had just returned from Australia and I had just returned from Romania (think Challenge Anneka but without the hair, the jeep and (hopefully) the voice). I was still nursing a broken heart (not from Romania) and had nits (from Romania). I woke up the next morning with a sore head and little recollection of the night before except dancing with my friend, to a text message from someone asking me out on a date…
For info, here I am, 20 years’ later, still under ‘Jo Tiger Tiger’ in his phone.
Stage 2
It was time to move out of the family home. Picture the scene – a small bachelorette flat in the middle of Southsea, lots of throws and cushions, a slightly hazy light making it all cosy and Hollywood at all times. When, suddenly, and without warning, I find myself in a doer-upper in Gosport (Matt’s hometown) because ‘it makes sense to put our money together and invest it in a house for the future’…
You’re starting to see how this is going to go aren’t you…
The Engagement
We went away for a couple of days over Easter. It was a Premier Inn (now much loved by our children) because I had decided to train to be a teacher and we were skint. At that time, Matt and his brother did up old Lotus cars (this particular specimen had been pushed by me more times than I had sat in the passenger seat). Unbeknown to me, Matt had hidden a little package in the boot. We decided to spend the day at a National Trust house (remember, we were skint and, yes, old before our time! Also now much loved by our children). We got to the top of the grand, stone steps leading down into the beautifully manicured gardens, just coming into bloom…
Matt: It’s beautiful here isn’t it?
Me: It’s alright I suppose (maybe I was hungry, not sure)
And then he asked. With a ring that he had made himself out of a bit of stainless steel (#cute). And this is the bit that is totally similar to the Nixons story…
I was so shocked that all I could do was cry and say ‘Oh my God’ 4000000000000000000000000000 times. I’m still not sure that I actually said ‘yes’ so there’s a get-out clause if I ever need one.
The Ring
In case that was getting all a bit mushy, I’ll bring you back down to earth…
When we moved house 10 years’ later, I put the ring in a ‘safe place’. I honestly can’t wait for the next move, when I find it again.
But, in the meantime, we had a ‘proper’ engagement ring made. It’s made of fairly traded diamonds; it’s under-stated and discreet; and that’s just the way I like it.
