A very unromantic proposal in a shop doorway, when we were walking around the town one evening. I was 23, he was 26. When I got home, I told my mum but said "Don't say anything about it when you see him tomorrow. He'll have changed his mind by then." Next day, he came round and we painted mum's kitchen but he never mentioned the proposal. When we went out for a drink, I asked him if we were engaged and he muttered something about getting to know each other better. We had been dating for 18 months.
He was under huge pressure at home to break up with me. His parents wanted him to marry someone of his own race and religion. They tried to persuade him to go and live with his uncle in Canada, to split us up.
But he got over his hesitation, bought me a ring and we were married a few months later. It will be our 46th anniversary in April.
I never let him forget the unromantic proposal or the fact that he had had doubts the following day. On my 60th birthday, we were in Hyde Park, with a couple of our grandkids playing in the Diana Fountain, when he went down on one knee and proposed to me again. He gave me a new wedding ring - I had taken off the original one, ages ago, to do the washing up because I had an allergic reaction if soap got under the ring. Somehow it had disappeared.
The second proposal was completely organised by our younger daughter, who even chose the ring. Husband still has no idea how to be romantic.