Liz Fenwick has kindly joined me for the Dream a Little Dream blogathon, today. Her story … well, it ought to be one of those slushy romantic novels!:-)
When Sue asked me to write about a dream, of course I thought about the writing one – the one fulfilled when The Cornish House came out in May, but then I thought back to another long held dream that happened much sooner. Thanks to all my romance reading as a child and teen, I’d always dreamt of meeting a wonderful Englishman to sweep me off my feet. I of course would live in a grand house and he would be Darcy to my Lizzie.
When I moved to the UK in 1989, it was to meet men. I was bored with the variety I was meeting in bars in Boston. Don’t get me wrong, I loved, and still do love, the Sox, the Celtics, the Patriots and the Bruins, but I just felt there had to be more to conversation than sports or business. Blame those romance novels of my youth, but I hoped I would meet a cultured and handsome man when I moved to London. When I did, it all happened rather quickly. I had not been in the capital ten days when I met my now husband. He was supposed to be at the Middlesex 7s (there’s that pesky sport stuff again), but instead joined my new flat mate and me for lunch at the Pheasantry before she went on a blind date with a pig farmer – but that’s another story…
He swept me off my feet or, really, swept me around the world. No vast country pile, but a lovely Cornish cottage awaits us when the need to travel finishes. The reality has proven far better than anything I could have dreamt of all those years ago when I left Boston on the 19th of April with mother’s words ringing in my ears – ‘It’s Patriots Day. You are going the wrong way. We won the war.’ We had indeed, but this Englishman was the man of my dreams and he had my heart even before I knew him.
To be in with a chance of winning a copy of The Cornish House, tell us who you dreamed of getting together with. And if you did. And how it worked out! Liz will choose her favourite.
Sue Moorcroft blog 
Soon after I went to university I found myself in a situation where I knew hardly anyone and, with the friend sitting next to me chatting to someone else, I gathered my courage and introduced myself to the person on the other side. He was a lovely friendly guy and after that we seemed to keep bumping into each other. We were both seeing people at home and I was intrigued when he talked about his girlfriend, because he seemed so nice to her all the time and that wasn’t my relationship experience at all. In the end his attitude convinced me there were better men out there – specifically him – & I finished with my boyfriend. Friends kept asking if there was more to my new friendship than I’d admit -especially when his relationship ended too- but we really were just very good friends, however much I’d have liked it to be more by this time. When we’d known each other about 18 months I had to go to a formal ball in my department and he agreed to be my plus-one. He was extremely sweet and attentive all night and I stored up every detail to fuel my future daydreams. Then the evening took an unexpectedly romantic turn. As we walked home in the moonlight he surprised me by kissing me. We agreed to meet the next day but until I saw him again I couldn’t help wondering if I’d dreamed the whole thing. Happily I had not. A year later, on another night time walk, he proposed and we’ve now been married for 15 years.
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Awwww …. that’s lovely 🙂
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Except I’ve just realised I made it sound like I fell in love with him because he was nice to his girlfriend! There were other reasons too!!
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After a mis-spent youth of reading my mother’s copies of ‘Woman’s Weekly’ and Mills and Boons, enjoying my weekly ‘ration of passion’, I kept my eyes open for my own Mr Darcy, or failing that, an Australian rancher, or rich Italian count. But they never seemed to cross my path! And then one night I was invited to a dinner party, and there I met my husband to be, a school teacher, and the man of my dreams. It was love at first sight for both of us. When I went home that evening I told my sister that he was my future husband, not because I was going to ‘chase’ him, but just because I knew with the certainty that on the morrow the sun would rise, so also that before very long, he and I would be together. We were, and still are.
BTW I have searched long and hard for months for a copy of your book. I have even tried ordering it in my local bookshop but cannot seem to locate a copy. I would absolutely love to read your novel!
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Wow, both of you – Northern Mum and Edith, have the most lovely stories!!!
lx
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Thanks, everyone, for your comments. 🙂
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Hi Sue and Liz, hope I’m not too late to comment. I dreamed for years of how I could get back in touch with my first love, the man who I married and then parted from. Being proud I didn’t want to tell him until 15 years later, we bumped into each other by chance. It was like time standing still. We remarried in a windmill. I’d love to read The Cornish House. I’ve already read chapter 1 somewhere.
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How romantic! And being swept off your feet so soon – you obviously made the right choice 🙂
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Susan Jane…you married him parted and married again! How fab!
Hi Shazjera…I did indeed make the right choice!
lx
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I’ve known two couples who married each other twice.
LSX
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