The Virginia Monologues

Once Every Four Years

Utronics(Historian’s Note: In the British Isles it is a tradition in some places that a woman may propose to a man on Feb 29th)


Her: It only happens once every four years. Tomorrow is my chance. Leap Year, and of course I am English through and through. We have our traditions, our heritage, our customs.

I have been planning it for weeks now. What I will say, where I will say it, even what voice I will use. I have the clothes back from the dry-cleaners as well. The purple blouse and scarf. He will remember those. We shared a special time together then.

I am going to ask him while we are in the Control room. In front of everyone. It will be very romantic and I shall probably cry.

I have bought a ring. A diamond. I think he will like it. Of course men don’t think about these things and I want to be able to wear it tomorrow after I have asked him. He can’t refuse can he? Not tomorrow.

I know he would ask me himself, if it wasn’t for the fact that he is my boss. He might have to give up work, but that won’t matter. I can run SHADO, while he looks after the Studio. What does it matter, as long as we are together. I will do a good job as well.

Tomorrow. I can’t wait.

I can see it now. Commander Virginia and Mr. Edward Straker



Forgot we had an extra day tomorrow. Useful though; I can go up to Moonbase this evening and check through the reports myself. Alec can stay here and look after things until I get back in a couple of days.


This article has 4 Comments

  1. Why today of all days? Why did he have to go to Moonbase today? My only chance and he wasn’t here. I had even worn my favourite perfume. So what do I do now? Do I wait for another four years in the hope that he will recognise that unspoken attraction between us? The bond that is there every time he speaks to me? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I don’t know what to do. The ring is in my pocket, this month’s edition of Brides magazine in my briefcase. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . He isn’t here. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Oh well. Never mind. I wonder where Paul is. Or Craig. Or Keith would do as a last resort.

Leave a Reply