how the wedding plans are going. I‘m keen to see what books they‘ve put in the library area. Books have been my escape my whole life, from reading Sweet Valley High novels in the school library to hide from bullies to romance novels – a pleasure I refuse to feel guilty for. What’s so wrong with feel-good escapism? I don’t need depressing realism when I’m trying to relax.
After a happy ten minutes scanning the books I settle into an armchair with my drink, preparing to be thoroughly anti-social until Holly or Tash appear to drag me back into the fray.
It’s then that I spot him on a sofa below.
Him.
Thomas.
The ghost of ski seasons past. The cause of so much misery and pain.
Something twists painfully deep inside me and my stomach cramps. It‘s far worse than the anxiety worm this time; it’s bigger and more dangerous. It has fangs.
Fangs that have dripped poison into my relationship with Luc.
I press back into my chair, even though he‘s not looking up and I‘m well hidden.
Crap. Crap. Crap. What do I do?
I stay where I am, frozen, heart thudding until Holly, Tash and Lucy come up to find me. Part of me is glad of the friend armour now surrounding me but I‘m in too much of a state to hide anything from them. They know me too well.
‘It‘s your party, Sophie, you can‘t hide up here.’ Holly peers down at me, narrowing her eyes and frowning. ‘Hey, what‘s up?’
‘He‘s here. What‘s he doing here?’ I whisper. Something wet splashes on my lap. I look down to see my hands are trembling, spilling my drink onto my dress. Lucy takes the glass off me and Tash kneels down beside my chair, squeezing my hand.
‘Who are you talking about, Soph?’ Holly asks, forehead creased. ‘Who‘s here?’
‘Thomas,’ I whisper, trying to sink further down in my seat. I take my hand back from Tash and wrap my arms around my still-cramping stomach.
‘Oh.’ Holly‘s eyes widen.
‘What? That Thomas?’ Tash’s voice is much louder than I’d like.
‘Ssh, yes, that Thomas.’ I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and take a deep breath before opening them again. I think I might be sick.
‘Which Thomas?’ Lucy looks furtively around us and down to the packed room below the mezzanine.
‘He of the ‘fat girls try harder’ and ‘I don’t use condoms’ fame,’ Tash replies, eyes flinty.
Recognition dawns on Lucy’s face.
I wince and take a shaky breath.
‘I’m so sorry, I don’t know why he’s here Soph. He certainly wasn’t invited.’ Holly’s eyes are wide, she looks stricken. ‘He must’ve come as someone’s guest. I’ll get Scott to ask him to leave.’
‘No.’ I reach for her wrist before she can leave. ‘Luc might guess. He’ll see I’m upset and could put two and two together. I never gave Luc the name of the guy responsible, you see. Things are a bit … difficult at the moment. I’m worried he might decide to teach Thomas a lesson, you know, to defend my honour.’
Holly chews her bottom lip, hesitating. ‘I suppose, but it’s your party, Soph. I want you to have a nice time. I hate that you’re going through this because of that jerk.’
Anger flares in her eyes. By ‘this’ I know she means more than his presence tonight. She, more than anyone, knows the grief Thomas has caused and continues to cause.
‘Was he the one who used to place bets with his friends about who could pull and shag the ugliest girl?’ Lucy asks, face contorted with disgust.
‘Yes,’ I reply shortly, face burning.
‘Oh, Soph, I’m sorry, you can’t possibly think I meant you …’ Lucy adds, colouring when she sees my face.
But no matter how many times my friends tell me that can’t have been what Thomas was doing the night I went home with him, I’ve never totally shaken the suspicion.
Tash and Lucy have described Thomas’ charming personality perfectly. As well as his aversion to using protection he also has no scruples regarding forcing a girl to do what he wants in such a way that he only just falls short of date rape.
Barely.
The whole ‚fat girls try harder‘ – a comment I overheard Thomas make when he talked about our night together with his friends, haunted me for a long time. The bloody annoying part of it was that when it happened I was a healthy weight for my height for the first time in years of struggling with diets. Compared to the Verbier skinny-blonde clones I‘m on the plump side, but Luc says he loves my curves. I think he really means it too. He always seems very, ahem, appreciative. Anyway I‘m not technically overweight, not according to the charts I‘ve found on the internet.
Crap, Thomas is doing it to me again. Screwing with my head. It‘s bad enough his actions had consequences Luc and I have to live with for the rest of our lives but now I‘m supposed to sit here watching him drink and chat up some other poor girl?
I can‘t do it.
‘Could we go down to the cinema room?’ I plead. ‘I don‘t want a fuss. Trust me, Luc might lose it.’
‘I‘m not sure I‘ve ever seen Luc angry.’ Tash stands up.
‘He rarely gets angry but anything that threatens me or Max stirs up his inner caveman.’ I get up from my chair. ‘Please, let‘s go somewhere else. I don‘t want to waste another minute tonight thinking or talking about Thomas.’
I refuse to hand Thomas that power. It‘s bad enough that I have to be constantly reminded of what he‘s done, of the choices he‘s taken away from me.
His poison has seeped into our relationship and we can‘t find the antidote, no matter how hard we try. Heat flushes up my neck and burns my cheeks. My hands ball into fists at my side. Never mind worrying about Luc hurting Thomas, I need to get far away before I take one of the marshmallow toasting forks and go for Thomas myself.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Okay?
Hello Beth,
How are you getting on? I’d love to hear all your news. Have you learnt to ski yet?
I know we disagreed about the wisdom of you taking this job in Verbier, but please know I’m here for you, whatever choices you make. Our spare room is yours whenever you need it. I was worried it might be too soon, but I hope you’ll prove me wrong. I only worry because I care, Beth. I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re like a second daughter to me.
If things do get difficult, remember you’re stronger than you think you are. You’re a remarkable young woman and I’m proud of how far you’ve come.
Lots of love,
Eva
BETH
I’m having a bad day. The kind of day when the past feels as tangible as the present and no matter how much make-up I put on, or how bright I fake my smile, I can’t get away from the heavy sadness tugging at my bones. It’s true, these kinds of days are happening less and less recently and I’ve learnt techniques to manage them but … Well, let’s just say today’s effort is a crappy one, like I’ve been driven over by a tank.
I wish I could escape it all forever, but no matter where I go, I can’t seem to leave