Helen Warner

The Story of Our Lives: A heartwarming story of friendship for summer 2018


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out. Because I haven’t come to terms with it myself yet. Because, as per usual, Melissa knew before I did.’

      Amy pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. ‘But you’re happy about it, aren’t you?’

      Sophie bit her lip. ‘Of course. Just… adjusting. It’s a shock, that’s all.’ She looked at Emily. ‘You must have felt the same, Em?’

      Emily’s face, which had been set hard, softened slightly. ‘You can say that again. But once you’re over the shock, it’s the best thing you’ll ever do. And at least you’ve got Steve…’ Her words hung in the air for a few seconds, the admonishment unspoken.

      Sophie nodded. ‘Yes. I know. I’m very lucky.’ Her words sounded robotic and forced.

      Amy watched the exchange. It was as if there was a whole other scene being played out that she wasn’t part of. There was a definite undercurrent and she couldn’t for the life of her work out why.

      ‘Where’s my breakfast?’ Melissa staggered into the kitchen, wearing a tiny pair of denim shorts and a white sleeveless top, the faint sheen of sweat on her forehead the only sign that she was hungover. She pulled up a chair and slumped down, before looking up at the others curiously. ‘Oh. I take it you’ve told them, then?’

      Sophie nodded.

      ‘Isn’t it the most fantastic news?’ Amy couldn’t understand why no one else seemed to be pleased or excited. If it was her, she would be jumping up and down with glee.

      Sophie and Melissa exchanged a glance. ‘Yes, of course it is,’ Melissa said. ‘It’s brilliant news and you’re thrilled, aren’t you, Sophie?’

      Sophie gave a small, tired smile. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’m thrilled.’

      JULY 1999

       ‘American cyclist Lance Armstrong has won his first Tour de France title.’

      BRIGHTON

       CHAPTER NINE

      ‘Right, madam, you have some catching up to do after all those months not drinking. Cheers!’ Melissa clinked her glass against Sophie’s and they both drank greedily. The effect was almost instant, as Sophie’s spirits soared with each sip and her head began to swim in a pleasurable way. They sank down into the two armchairs and beamed at each other.

      ‘That’s more like it!’ Melissa sighed. ‘Wonder where the others are?’

      As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Sophie made to get up but found that her legs were surprisingly wobbly. ‘Jesus, I’m such a lightweight… I feel pissed already!’

      ‘Good!’ Melissa leapt out of her chair and ran towards the door, which she swung open with a flourish.

      ‘Hellooooo!’ came a cry, as Amy and Emily tumbled into the room, both of them looking distinctly dishevelled.

      ‘I see you’ve located the champagne Nick sent and demolished it already.’

      Melissa put her hands on her tiny hips as if in a gesture of disapproval but she couldn’t hide her delight. ‘Oh, it’s so great to see you – come on, group hug!’

      With an almighty effort, Sophie hauled herself out of her chair and joined the others in a mini rugby scrum of a hug. Four different scents combined with the alcohol fumes to make her senses swim. She had felt so dislocated and strange for so long now that it was overwhelming to be surrounded by so much love and such a feeling of belonging.

      ‘Sophie! Are you OK? What’s wrong?’ Amy pulled back as she spoke and broke the circle. All eyes turned towards Sophie with expressions of concern and bafflement.

      Sophie shook her head roughly, trying to shake out the wooziness, embarrassed. ‘Sorry, I’m fine. I’m just… happy to see you.’

      ‘You’re such an old softie!’ Melissa reached up and put her arm around Sophie’s back, giving her a squeeze. ‘I think it’s more likely that it’s the first alcohol you’ve had in ages and it’s gone straight to your head.’

      ‘You’re probably right.’ The tension began to seep out of Sophie’s body. She knew that it was more than just the effect of the alcohol but she didn’t care. She desperately needed to let out some of the emotion she had been bottling up for so long.

      The look of joy on Steve’s face was like a dagger to her heart. ‘Oh, wow, that’s amazing. Really, really amazing.’ He gazed at her in wonder, as if he was seeing her for the first time. ‘Are you sure?’

      Sophie tried to smile, her lip wobbling. ‘I’m sure. I’ve done four tests so far. All of them with the same result.’

      A sudden shadow flickered across Steve’s face. She knew what he was thinking.

      ‘It’s definitely yours, Steve.’

      He nodded and looked down. ‘But presumably you can’t know that for certain.’

      Sophie swallowed hard and took a deep breath. She had to make this convincing. ‘I can and I do. We always used something. Whereas when you first came home…’

      ‘. . . we didn’t,’ he finished for her. Still he was looking down, unable to meet her eye.

      ‘When the baby’s born, if you want, I’ll have a DNA test done…’ Part of her hoped he’d agree. It would give her the answer she needed. Even if it wasn’t the answer she wanted.

      ‘No.’ Steve’s voice was firm and he looked up at her, as if decided. ‘No. No need.’

      Sophie could feel her face beginning to burn but this was how it had to be. Even if she wasn’t certain, she had to make them both believe it.

      ‘Wow,’ Steve said, his face softening again. They were in a pizza restaurant, a large, noisy one where the clatter of plates fought with the hubbub of chatter and laughter. She had chosen it deliberately, unsure if she could cope with the well of emotion swirling around inside her if they were alone. She was scared that tears and words would come tumbling out in a waterfall of confession and regret.

      Steve reached across the small marble-topped table and took her hand. ‘I am so, so pleased. How are you feeling?’

      Sophie bit her lip. ‘Scared.’

      A flicker of confusion passed over his face, his bright blue eyes clouding momentarily. ‘Just scared? Nothing else?’

      Sophie smiled. ‘I’m excited too. Just… can’t imagine it, you know?’

      Steve nodded. ‘I know.’

      But of course, he didn’t.

      She asked for a transfer at work so that she wasn’t producing the late news, claiming that the hours were too difficult for her to cope with while pregnant. Matt had texted her a few times, so eventually she invited him to go for a coffee and told him that she was pregnant.

      The look of horror and fear in his eyes was in such stark contrast to Steve’s delighted reaction that she wondered for the millionth time why she had ever been stupid enough to get involved with him. ‘It’s not yours,’ she had told him bluntly, almost wanting to laugh as his face relaxed with relief. They had finished their coffees and parted company for what she knew would be the last time. Matt had only ever been interested in her for sex, so there was absolutely no point in continuing to see each other if that wasn’t on offer.

      She and Steve sold their flat and moved into a small house not far from where Steve’s parents lived in Richmond in time for the baby’s arrival. On the surface, everything seemed perfect. Steve’s mum was going to act as the childminder once they both went back to work and Steve had had a promotion at work, which meant that they weren’t