Dumped, Actually(3)

‘Hi Ollie! Just wanted to call to let you know everything is in place for later, as we planned. I’ve got the band holed up at the back of the visitor’s centre, just by The Blitzer.’

‘Thanks, Amy! Has the trumpeter got the ring in his waistcoat, like I asked?’

‘Er . . . yes, kind of.’

‘Kind of?’ My heart skips a beat. Everything has to be perfect today. Nothing must go wrong!

‘Yeah. It’s in his pocket, but I wouldn’t really call it a waistcoat.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It just looks a little too small to be a waistcoat, and the way it connects to his—’

The door to the toilet bangs open suddenly, and a large, irate, red-faced father bursts through it, accompanied by two small, screaming boys.

I have to shout down the phone now to be heard over their caterwauling. ‘Just tell me he’s got the ring, Amy!’

‘Yes, yes! He’s got it. Horst seems like a very nice man. All of the band do. I’m sure everything will go well!’

‘Great!’

‘It’s certainly going to be quite the show when they start up! Everyone will notice!’

‘I’m sure they will!’

The irate father is now pushing both boys into a cubicle, ordering them to take a piss as quickly as possible, so they can get to Minecart Mayhem before the queue gets too big.

‘I never would have thought somebody like Samantha would like that kind of music!’ Amy continues.

‘Yes, it’s not really the kind of music you’d expect someone as young as her to like, but she’s a very special lady!’ I reply, moving myself away from the screaming boys.

‘Yeah . . . she must be. Well, I guess I’ll see you after the show’s over, Ollie. Good luck!’

‘Thanks, Amy. Speak to you later.’

I pocket the phone with relief and look down at my now slightly damp – but also clean – kneecap. It’ll dry out in no time in the heat.

Time to get back out there and have some fun!

I exit the toilet, leaving the irate father to bully the urine out of his sons, and rejoin Samantha, who hands me a large Diet Coke, of which I gratefully take a swig.

‘Thanks for bringing me here today, Ollie,’ she says with a smile.

‘My absolute pleasure, sweetheart. This is your birthday, and I want it to be a special day for you.’

‘Thanks! Shall we go get started then? I want to get at least three rides in before we hit The Blitzer at midday!’

‘No problem!’

We take off in the direction of Mount Terror, weaving our way through a load more irate fathers and mothers as we do so. There’s a small part of me that wants exactly what they’ve got, though – small children to share this kind of experience with. Maybe after Samantha and I are married that could be the next thing on the list. I grew up with parents who loved each other as much as Samantha and I do, and I can’t wait to give my own child the same upbringing I had. I want to be the kind of parent who smothers their child with love – just like Mum and Dad did for me.

This thought puts a large and contented smile on my face as we join the line for Mount Terror.

As we do, I look at my watch again, which says half past ten.

Not long now, Ollie . . . Not long now!

But before I get the chance to pop the question, it’s time to experience a few hair-raising rides at this brand-new theme park.

If I’m being brutally honest, I’m not really much of a fan of this kind of thing myself. I’d prefer a nice walk in the country, or a day at the beach, but Samantha is something of an adrenaline junkie, and I’m more than happy to suffer my way through being jolted and jerked around a few metal tracks to make her happy. My experience of rollercoasters has increased exponentially since I met Samantha. I’d never been on one before I met her, but now I’ve been through more loop-the-loops than a Red Arrow. That’s what I love about her. She’s introduced me to things I would never have done alone.

The only ride I’m really not looking forward to at all is The Blitzer itself. I catch sight of its gigantic silver, looping track as we make our way towards Mount Terror. It’s apparently the highest single inverted-loop rollercoaster in the northern hemisphere – and boy does it look it. My stomach does a tiny flip as I stare up at the top of the loop, which looks like it’s a good two miles in the air.

Still, it’s only three minutes of my life, and straight after it I get to the thing I am looking forward to, so I’ll grit my teeth and put up with it. Samantha will no doubt have the time of her life on the damned ride, and that’s what’s important.

By the time we get off Minecart Mayhem, it’s ten to twelve and time to go join the queue for The Blitzer. The first ride on the rollercoaster is only open to those like us who managed to score special tickets. Everyone else will have to wait until we’ve had our turn. It cost me another hundred quid to secure the first ride – in another shining example of Ollie Sweet being royally rinsed of his cash. But you really can’t put a price on a moment like this, can you? I’ve been dreaming of this proposal for so long, there’s no amount I wouldn’t have spent to achieve it.

An area of the plaza in front of The Blitzer’s entrance has been sectioned off with ropes and poles, forming the queue line, and a temporary booth sits right in front of it. As we approach this, I notice that a small stage has been constructed within the sectioned-off area, and my heart rate increases. That must be for the band.