Moving into my twenties was an easy and simple transition, nothing too complex just catching up with beauty styles – clothes, hair styles, shoes and first and foremost make up.
When I was a teenager I wore clothes that suited me, casual for work, more classy for going out on dates or meeting Bob. One day towards my 18th birthday I sat down and reflected my image on a slightly older male! Bob was eight years older than me and before we became an item, age never bothered us, we were just a happy twosome.
At weekends we went to friends, mainly couples Bob knew.  It was around that time that I felt I had to do something to make me look more mature and, let’s say ‘womanly’.  I changed my style in clothes, more chic, curvaceous, higher heels, new shorter hair style and, guess what?   My new image was a huge success.  I remember clearly two occasions.
One time my sisters best man, Hugh, asked me out one evening.  We went to the Berkley where I felt most comfortable.  Bob knew we were going there. As Hugh was not the best of dancers, we went upstairs to the cafe overlooking the ballroom. Sitting talking and enjoying watching the dancers, I got a feeling someone was walking towards us.  It was Bob who shook hands with Hugh then politely asked if he could have the next dance with me.  Shocked, I got to my feet, extremely embarrassed because not only did he have one dance but he held on to me for the next dance also!
The second embarrassment was while we were at a mutual friend’s wedding.  We were on the floor dancing when the sister of the bride came over to us at the end of the dance to ask Bob if he was happy for a friend to have the next dance with me? Of course he agreed. The dance was a slow foxtrot, one of my favourites.  Taking me onto the dance floor, we glided across so smoothly and comfortably, a wonderful dancer he was.  At the end of the foxtrot he offered me an invitation to be his professional ballroom dancer, as his partner had to withdraw from their partnership due to other commitments. Having thanked him for the lovely dance I had to decline his offer but was overwhelmed by his compliment and wished him every success in the future.
From that day on Bob was my only dancing partner and our relationship went to another, more permanent level.
Within a short space of time my 21st birthday arrived. A few of our friends came to my family home where we had a great time. My mother suffered from a heart condition and excused herself to go and have a rest.  Dad always enjoyed company and got into the swing of things, with a wee glass of his favourite drink Whyte & Mackay whisky.
During the spring of the following year Bob and I became engaged. We went to my Uncle Bill who worked with Panton the jewellers in Glasgow for my engagement ring.  We were over the moon and decided to go to the very popular ballroom at Eglinton Toll, Glasgow to celebrate our engagement.  I remember the evening so very clearly, the alcove we sat in, the soft music, a girls perfect dream.  As the evening went on I was still waiting for the ring to be put on my finger but Bob just kept smiling and teasing me. A special song was being sung and it was then Bob placed the ring on my finger and guided me onto the dance floor. The song was “When I Fall in Love”  (please click).  Definitely a night, never to be forgotten.
dad1mum1
My story part 5 continues into the month of October the same year when Bob and I become MR and MRS.
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