5th June 1939

William has rented a room above the pub in town. It isn't the best but it's cheap and he said it won't be long until we will be looking for something together so he wants to save every penny he can until then. How romantic is that!

He turns 18 at the end of the month and he said that as soon as I turn 18 in December he wants to marry me. I have said yes already. I just know that he is the one for me. I cannot even imagine seeing anyone else.

I told Mama that we are to be wed and she said it was about time and she expected it a lot sooner. Apparently she knew from the moment she met him that we were soulmates. I don't know if she's just saying that now but it would be nice to think that everyone else thinks we are as perfect for each other as we feel we are.

Until tomorrow diary.

It's the first Sunday in a long time I haven't had something booked in to attend or organise so making my way to the Astoria as soon as I've finished breakfast feels like the most sensible plan.

Ever since Jonny and Ariana confirmed they wanted to book it for their wedding on 17th December, just a weekend before Christmas, I have absolutely thrown myself into ensuring it is the most perfect venue possible. 

Every spare moment is spent researching, calling and filling out forms. Not to mention  planning the actual wedding. Ariana is dress shopping later this week and she said she's drawn to old Hollywood glam which has given me some direction for everything else.

Despite Tommy's initial hesitancy with telling me about his job it is definitely far more useful that I expected. Especially with his gardening connections. Finding a florist willing to do something in December was proving to be quite the nightmare but one quick call and Tommy has two options for me.

Both are ridiculously eager to please in a way I've not had before with event suppliers. I'm almost a little jealous. Events are my thing, my business. It's a little annoying to know how different I could find planning if people just knew my face a little more.

Driving by the Astoria gives me the warmest feeling inside. Only a few cracks in the brickwork a re still visible. Although they have been filled in we were advised to leave it awhile to 'settle' before we repaint it. Who am I to ignore the advice of experts?

The first thing I notice when I wander in is the overwhelming scent of paint. I have never been a fan of the smell and the amount needed to cover all the ceilings means the air is thick with it.

I prop open the doors in an attempt to air the place before returning my attention to searchimg for the expert decorator we hired.

Moira is on the staircase and loudly explaining her method to her two apprentices. Both are gazing up at her as though she is some sort of goddess but she seems totally unaware.

Noticing me watching, her paint splattered face breaks into a wide grin, "Azzy, I didn't know you were coming today. I was just telling the guys that I think we only have a couple more days work."

"That's great, I'll try to stay out of your way."  I smile back edging round them to head up the stairs.

"You could never be in the way." She laughs, tossing her head back so the beads on her braids click together.

She always looks to effortlessly cool and casual. Todays ensemble of white t-shirt (which seems hugely impractical for a painter) and short denim dungarees looks so chic on her. If I wore it, I'd look like a children's TV presenter at best and a twelve year old at worst.

I feel so overdressed despite going for a light floral dress today. With a sigh, I tear my attention from our wardrobes and style, to focus on the beautiful building which has stolen my heart.

I would never let anyone else know but sometimes I feel like the building is coming to life. Waking up at the activity within it.

In the screen room we have stripped out the carpet and ruined chairs so only the best remain. Despite being the best they are still old, and smell musty to boot.

Too afraid to use a fabric cleaning machine I am washing each by hand with buckets of warm water and good old elbow grease.

It has brought up the ones I've already done so they look like new and tipping each filthy yellow stained bucket of water down the drain is so satisfying!

As I am restoring the original colour to the eighth chair the back of my neck prickles, alerting me to someone in the room. I whirl with a start and see Tommy approaching.

He raises his hands as if to say, I mean no harm, "Sorry I didn't mean to scare you."

His eyes sparkle with mischief and I blow the strands of hair sticking to my sweaty forehead before replying, "You didn't scare me...just surprised me. I thought you weren't coming until the afternoon?"

"It's two o'clock Azzy, how long have you been at this?" He asks.

"Oh, I don't know, awhile." I frown and stand, drying my damp hands on the skirt of my dress.

"So you haven't eaten again?" There's disapproval in his light tone.

"No, I'll get something in a bit."

"Have lunch with me?"

I roll my eyes, "What is your obsession with making me eat?" I tease.

He doesn't laugh, or tease me back, "Have lunch with me, please?"

I swallow hard at his expression. "Fine we can get food."

My voice comes out a little squeaky and if he notices, he doesn't say anything as he leads the way back out onto the high street.

The heat and sunlight hit me so I find myself squinting to try to look at Tommy. I raise one hand to shade my eyes and he takes my other hand. I jolt at the contact and he freezes, facing away from me so I can't see his expression as he waits to see if I will pull away.

Against my better judgement, I don't. His hand is warm and comfortable but not sweaty and it feels almost natural as he leads me towards the bakery.

I try to force my brain to stop overthinking it. People hold hands all the time. It doesn't mean anything.

There's no queue in the bakery and Tommy quickly orders himself a sausage roll and slice of chocolate fudge cake. I deliberate before choosing a crusty cheese roll and cherry pie.

Tommy adds a couple of bottles of water and then blocks me before I can pay by handing me the bag. I make a small tutting noise that makes the corner of his mouth quirk up into a half smile as he taps his card on the reader.

He is still holding my hand as he leads me in the opposite direction to the Astoria. I want to question where we are going and I open my mouth to when I spot the park.

My mouth feels oddly dry as I realise he's taking me for a picnic in the park. What sort of weird date-like nonsense is this?

Wynford Park is surrounded by tall walls that when you're inside it feels like a little oasis of calm.

I used to love it here as a child and my eyes drift over the pond and flowers, soaking it all in.

Tommy stops abruptly on a small grassy hill which overlooks the pond and sits down, leaning back on his elbows like he doesn't have a care in the world.

My hand feels odd without his and I quickly retrieve a bottle of water from the bag before sitting down to join him.

The silence between us is not as comfortable as normal and my body feels on high alert.

"Relax Azzy." Tommy soothes, as he reaches for the bag to retrieve our lunch.

I take a large gulp of water and focus my eyes out on the little dock by the lake. A small army of ducks swim close to it, eyeing us in the distance as though assessing their chances of getting something off us.

I tuck in to the roll and try to make it clear it's mine. "What are you doing?" Tommy asks after a moment, breaking our staring contest.

I glance at him and his curious expression as I try to think of a way to explain my dominance battle with a duck so that he won't think I'm completely insane.

"Just thinking and watching the ducks." I say vaguely.

He gives me a weird look as if to say it-looked-like-more before saying, "Do you remember coming here as a kid?"

"Yeah, it hasn't changed much." I smile.

"I saw you here once when we were teens." He blurts out the confession and then looks embarrassed.

"You did?" Is all I can manage.

He swallows hard, "I was in the bushes over there with my mates. We were all nearly sixteen and Matt had a bottle of vodka he took from his parents. We were joking around and then I heard a laugh and I looked out."

He staring at the bushes as he speaks before slowly turning to face me, "You were here your Aunt and feeding the ducks. You had started laughing so hard you laid on the grass to catch your breath." His voice drops to barely a whisper and I automatically lean into to hear him say, "It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

He's staring at me now and I'm staring back at him. I don't remember the day he's talking about. I came here so often with my Aunt and we laughed a lot together.

Did he call me beautiful? Or the moment of laughter beautiful? My brain can't decide how it wants to react.

"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met and I've been in love with you for years Astoria Wendall-Jones." He says, sitting up and moving closer to me.

He's going to kiss me and my god if he doesn't I think I might kiss him at this point.

His lips press to mine and my eyes flutter closed, fingers digging into the ground as I try to control myself.

"Let go Azzy," He whisper against my lips and the plea in his voice shatters my control as I lean into the kiss.

His hand is on the back of my head, guiding me to the ground as he deepens our kiss. Despite the public setting, where we are, in the shade of the tree, it feels as though we are perfectly alone.

His thumb brushes my cheek and I feel like I could kiss him forever. When he finally breaks the kiss and pulls back his expression is full of wonder. "Wow." He says softly.

"Wow." I repeat.

There are twigs tangled in my hair and dirt on his shirt when I grabbed it. We are suspended in the moment.

Then realisation floods back and reality hits me like a ton of bricks.

I have to work with him for years. He's a hot TV presenter who could literally have anyone. How long would it take before he lost interest and broke my heart?

I scramble back from him and he flinches as though I'd hit him.

"I...we...I can't." I stammer out as I get to my feet.

Then I turn and run.