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

Melissa reached out and took Sophie’s hand in hers as they stood, still as statues while the wind continued to buffet them, causing their hair to blow around their faces. Her tiny hand felt strong and safe. ‘It’ll be OK, you know.’

Finally, Sophie turned to meet Melissa’s eye and wondered if the gleam of tears she saw there was a reflection of her own. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

‘Why don’t you tell me what happened?’

Sophie looked up at the clock on the newsroom wall. It was 11.15 p.m. Her eyes felt gritty and sore through lack of sleep but her heart was still hammering with adrenaline. She had just produced her first ever news bulletin and the buzz it had given her was indescribable. She had felt as if she was literally flying as she heard her words being read out to the nation by one of the most familiar newscasters in Britain.

Gradually, the newsroom had thinned out as everyone else drifted home but Sophie didn’t want to go home just yet. To Steve. Who would probably be fast asleep and snoring by now. She wanted to celebrate.

‘So how was that for you, Sophie?’ It wasn’t just the face that was familiar, the voice was unmistakable too.

‘Oh, it was amazing! Thank you. I mean, I know you do this every night but my God, what a buzz!’

Matt Whitelaw laughed, revealing straight white teeth that looked even whiter next to his tanned skin. ‘Yeah, I do it every night but you know what? Every time is different and I never, ever take it for granted. It’s great to see someone so fired up, though. Some of the producers have been around for so long they seem as if they’re just going through the motions.’

Sophie nodded, knowing that he was talking about the two senior producers, Simon Tebbutt and Neil Marsh. Between them they had about thirty years under their belts at this company and while their experience was undoubtedly valuable, they were both a bit too comfortable in their roles and had been secretly described by some of the other producers as ‘bed-blockers’.

‘Still, I guess as long as we stay at the top, they won’t be going anywhere…’ Matt shrugged on his black leather biker jacket and picked up his crash helmet. ‘Listen, I don’t suppose you fancy a swift vino, do you?’

Sophie could feel herself reddening. She glanced around the newsroom to see if anyone had heard but by now it was deserted. ‘Won’t everywhere be closed?’

Matt tapped his nose. ‘I know a place… come on, I’ve got a spare helmet on the bike.’ He strode confidently towards the door of the newsroom, clearly expecting no objection from her.

Sophie hesitated, looking down at her Lycra mini-skirt and knee-length boots. Oh, what the hell? she thought, scooping up her bag and jacket and following him out of the door.

‘You looked great on the bike in that skirt and those boots.’ Matt eyed her legs appreciatively, as they sat opposite each other on soft red velvet chairs in the private members’ lounge he had taken her to. ‘Did you see that cab driver’s face when he pulled up alongside us? I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head.’ Matt took a long, slow drag on his cigarette and exhaled, his eyes narrowing behind the tiny wall of smoke, giving him the aura of a fifties matinee idol.

Sophie laughed, a little nervously. The evening had taken on a surreal quality. It was gone midnight and she knew that she shouldn’t be here, alone with another man. A man she had fantasized about ever since she’d started working for this company just over a year ago.

Matt Whitelaw was the main anchor of the late news show. He was arrogant and vain and had been known to have more than the odd petulant outburst behind the scenes, but he was also undeniably sexy. His pale blue shirt strained against the honey-coloured skin on his taut, flat stomach. His blue-grey eyes were framed by long, dark lashes that gave him a look of innocence, even when he was saying the most outrageous things, which meant that he could get away with just about anything. He had that rare quality that drew both men and women to him in droves and probably stemmed from his sharp intellect and fierce wit. They had been discussing the story about Bill Clinton and the White House intern that was just beginning to surface and Sophie was in thrall as he assessed the mounting evidence. ‘Watch this space. It’s going to cause him trouble, this one…’ he finished, with a knowing smile.

Sophie smiled back, alcohol dulling her ability to give a meaningful response. Matt then moved on to talking about the team at work, taking apart each character like a surgeon with a scalpel. ‘I dread to think what you say about me behind my back.’ Sophie’s comment was meant to be light-hearted but as she finished speaking, their eyes connected and Matt’s face took on an intense expression.

‘Oh, I do definitely talk about you behind your back.’ He spoke slowly and deliberately, rolling his words with his tongue. ‘But nothing for you to dread, I assure you.’

Sophie wished he would be the one to look away first, but he had dropped his head slightly and was looking up at her through those lashes in a way that told her he was going nowhere. With an effort, she pulled her gaze away from his and took a sip of her champagne. She felt woozy and slightly sick. She was out of her depth and they both knew it. ‘I think I’d better go home.’

Matt blinked sleepily, not betraying the faintest hint of disquiet. Still he watched her. ‘No, you don’t. The night’s only just begun…’

Suddenly Sophie’s senses, which seemed to have been floating in the ether above her all evening, snapped sharply back into focus. ‘Yes. I really do.’ She grabbed her bag and jacket and stood up. ‘You stay. I’ll get a cab. Thanks for the drink. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Her words came out like the rattle of a machine gun, nerves making her gabble. She glanced back over her shoulder as she headed for the door. Matt was watching her with a tiny smirk of surprise. And was it her imagination or did he look ever so slightly impressed?

‘So how come you were so late last night, gorgeous?’ Steve rolled over in bed and wrapped his arms around Sophie, who tensed instinctively, guilt swirling in her stomach. She had arrived back at the flat to find a card from Steve on the kitchen table saying, ‘Congratulations on a brilliant first show.’

‘I, er, went for a drink with some of the others after the programme.’

Steve planted a kiss on her bare shoulder, his bristles scratching her skin in a way that wasn’t unpleasant. ‘That’s nice. So how did the programme go?’

Sophie turned over to face him. She loved Steve’s ‘morning face’ before he’d had a shave, with his dark blue eyes still crinkly with sleep and his silky blond hair mussed up so that it flopped messily around his high cheekbones. ‘It went really well. Did you like it?’

‘I did.’ Steve kissed her gently on the mouth. ‘It looked great but I meant how did it go behind the scenes? Was Mr Handsome a pain in the arse?’

Sophie smiled at Steve’s description of Matt. They had often watched him deliver the news while commenting that he looked incredibly full of himself. ‘Nah, he was fine. Nice, actually. He came for a drink too.’ As soon as she said the words, Sophie could feel herself beginning to relax. She might not have told the whole truth but she hadn’t lied to Steve either. Already, she was beginning to wonder if she had imagined the sexual tension she had felt last night. Matt probably just wanted to unwind after the show and she was the only one available to go for a drink with him. It didn’t mean he had singled her out at all.

She lifted her hand and stroked Steve’s hair away from his face, enjoying the prickly sensation from his stubble on her palm. He took his cue and rolled on top of her, his mouth finding hers so effortlessly, his tongue exploring hers as if it was the first time they had ever kissed. Every nerve ending began to sing as Sophie guided him inside her, the feel of him so familiar yet each sensation so new. She threw her head back and groaned as he began to thrust faster, his mouth on her breasts, her neck, her stomach. Sophie could feel herself teetering on the edge of an orgasm when Matt’s face flashed in front of her closed lids. Suddenly it was Matt’s body above her, thrusting himself into her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge and she came with an almighty shudder.

‘Wow.’ Steve rolled off her and lay back on the bed, breathing heavily. ‘That was great.’

‘It was.’ Sophie was glad he wasn’t looking at her face because she felt sure he would know what she had been thinking in those final, climactic moments. A feeling of guilt began to gnaw at her. Already she had deceived Steve and worse, she had fantasized about someone else while he was making love to her.

‘I’d better get ready for work.’ She slipped her legs over the side of the bed and sat up.

‘Yeah, me too. Wish I didn’t have to, though. Wish I could stay in bed with you all day.’

Sophie looked at him over her shoulder and smiled. ‘Me too.’ She felt obliged to say it even though she didn’t really mean it. She loved her work with a passion and couldn’t wait to get there most days. She had thought it was just because she had fulfilled a long-held ambition when she became a TV producer but it was more than that. She loved the buzz, the excitement. The people. One person in particular.

Steve quite enjoyed his job as an HR officer for a City bank but it was a million miles from where his ambitions lay. He was a comedy writer and he dreamed of making it a career one day. For now, though, they had a mortgage to pay on their two-bedroom flat in Balham in south London and they couldn’t afford for one of them to give up work just yet. Sophie sometimes felt guilty about it but more and more recently, she had begun to question why he had settled for such a dull career when he could have gone for something more exciting. Like she had.

She still loved him so deeply and couldn’t imagine her life without him in it. It was as if her adulthood had only really begun once she met him. But in the newsroom each day, she was surrounded by ambitious, thrusting, handsome, funny men who sometimes made Steve seem a little, well, boring. Every time the insistent little thought niggled at a corner of her brain, she would try to push it away but it always returned.

Walking into the newsroom later that morning, she was lost in thought and mulling over what news stories might feature in her bulletin, when Keira, another of the junior producers she worked with, sidled up and fell into step beside her. ‘So, it looks like someone’s got an admirer.’

Sophie frowned. ‘Sorry?’

Keira nudged her. ‘You. And Matt. Jez saw you leaving the newsroom together last night.’

Sophie’s insides dropped instantly with fear. ‘What? No. I mean, there was nothing in it. We just went for a drink.’ She started to stutter and could feel her cheeks burning, making her look guilty as hell.

‘Hey, you don’t need to defend yourself to me,’ Keira nudged her gently. ‘Who wouldn’t, given half a chance?’

‘No! You don’t understand. I wouldn’t. I have a boyfriend I’m very happy with. Matt’s a player. He could have anyone. He doesn’t want or need to bother with me.’

Keira looked at her closely, as if weighing up whether to believe her. ‘Seriously? You turned down Matt Whitelaw?’

‘No!’ Sophie could feel the frustration bubbling up inside her as she reached her desk and dumped her bag on the floor, before slumping into her chair. ‘I didn’t turn him down because he didn’t try anything on! We had a drink and I got a cab home. End of story. I don’t remotely fancy him and I doubt very much whether he remotely fancies me.’ Her voice rose as she spoke and by the time she had finished, she was aware that she had an audience. She looked around to see that Matt had arrived in the newsroom just in time to hear the last sentence.

He smiled at her easily and headed for his own desk, where he sat down and began typing at his keyboard. Keira mouthed the word ‘Oops’ and edged away towards her own seat.

Sophie took a second to compose herself before she turned to her computer and logged in. They had just had new computers installed with an operating system called Outlook Express which meant they could send emails to one another. Immediately, an email flashed up.

MATT WHITELAW: ACTUALLY I DO REMOTELY FANCY YOU.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘So what? You didn’t do anything wrong.’ Melissa tucked her hands deep into the pockets of her oversized Barbour, as she and Sophie sat together on the sea wall, looking out over the choppy water while a flock of seagulls squealed through the deepening sky.

‘I wouldn’t have done anything wrong if I’d left it there.’ If only. If only I had left things there.

Sophie let herself into the flat and crept towards the bedroom door, which was ajar. She peeped her head around it and strained her eyes to see if she could make out the figure of Steve asleep in the darkness.

‘If you’re looking for me, I’m in here.’

Sophie jumped. Her heart beginning to pound, she walked to the living room, where she found Steve sitting on the sofa in the dark, his back ramrod straight, staring at the wall.

‘What are you doing in here?’ She tried to keep her voice light-hearted, but she had a sudden feeling of foreboding. ‘Has something happened?’

Steve didn’t answer. Finally, he leaned over and clicked on the lamp beside him, bathing the small room in a golden glow. ‘Come and sit down, Sophie. I think we need to talk.’

The bile rose in Sophie’s throat. She had never seen Steve look so serious, his lovely dancing eyes now clouded with… something. She couldn’t work out if it was sadness, anger, jealousy or disgust. She sat down beside him, yet as far from him as possible, as if she was lowering herself onto a cushion of broken glass. How could she possibly be so nervous in the company of the man she had loved for the past eight years? ‘Steve? You’re scaring me. What’s the matter?’

Steve’s face softened as he gazed at her and she knew that whatever he was about to say, he still loved her. She could see it, sense it, smell it. He reached out and took her hand, stroking it gently. ‘I think we should split up.’

‘No! Oh my God, no!’ Her cheeks began to blaze with fear. ‘But… why?’

Steve reached out and stroked her face, catching her tears in his hand, his expression a mixture of sorrow and love. ‘I think we both know why.’

‘I don’t!’

‘But you do, sweetheart. We’ve started leading separate lives. Ever since you joined that programme you’ve been drifting away from me. I know you so well, Sophie. I can tell. I know that you think I’m boring compared to all those testosterone-fuelled blokes you work with.’

‘No! You’ve got it all wrong. I don’t think you’re boring. I love you!’ It occurred to Sophie that it was only now, as she spoke the words, that she realized how true they were.

Steve shook his head sadly, and cupped her face in his hand. His strong, smooth, beautiful hand. ‘You’ve had no idea where I’ve been every evening and I’ve had no idea where you’ve been. Why you’re always so late home these days when the programme finishes at ten thirty…’ He let the words hang in the air for a second and Sophie realized what he was telling her. He knew.

‘I…’ she began but she couldn’t continue. He was right. She had been so busy covering her tracks that she hadn’t ever stopped to find out what he’d been up to all these evenings when she was working. Now she knew. He’d been following her. He would have seen her leaving the building each night with Matt, getting on his motorbike and heading back to his flat near Tower Bridge. Was he sitting outside when she left again an hour or so later and climbed into a cab, wondering if she smelt of him? Hoping that Steve would be asleep so that he wouldn’t want to make love.

‘But I love you.’ The words sounded so empty coming from her mouth now. So deceitful. Yet they were true.

‘I know. I love you too. But we’re done, babe.’ Steve got up and looked down at her. ‘I’ve packed a bag and I’ll take it tonight. I’ll come back for my other stuff later.’

‘How can you be so calm about this?’ Sophie felt an inexplicable surge of anger.

Steve sighed deeply and shook his head. ‘Because I’ve had time to get used to it. When I first realized… I was the complete opposite of calm, I can assure you. I was a mess. But you obviously didn’t notice.’

Shame and guilt settled around Sophie like a blanket. No, she hadn’t noticed. She had stopped taking any notice of her beautiful, loyal, decent partner because she was too busy playing around with her shallow, selfish, arrogant lover.

Sophie stumbled through the next few days like a drunk oblivious to everything else except getting the next drink. The only thought in her head was Steve. After he’d gone, she lay in bed listening to the clank and rattle of the pipes that sounded as if they were groaning in protest at the loss of their owner.

She pulled his pillow into her face and let it absorb the tears, which wouldn’t stop flowing. The scent of him clung to the bedsheets, causing her insides to cramp with pain and fear. Only now did she really understand how much she loved him. How much she needed him. And that she just couldn’t function without him. Without him, it felt as if her life was over.

She rang his mobile over and over again. Each time it would click through to his voicemail and she would leave long, rambling messages, begging his forgiveness, telling him how much she loved him and pleading with him to come home. She didn’t know if he listened to them but she had to try. She had to do everything she could to convince him to give her another chance. Panic engulfed her every time she hung up, wondering how the hell she would ever cope if he didn’t.

She called in sick at work and when Matt texted her, she deleted the texts and deleted his number. Anything she felt for him had evaporated in an instant. She spent the whole time clutching her phone in the desperate hope that Steve would call her back. She wondered where he’d gone and realized with a pang of shame that she had stopped taking any interest in his life around the same time that she had started her job at the TV station. She didn’t actually know who his good friends were any more or who he might have gone to in his hour of need.

She lost count of the days but sometime during the following week, the door opened and he walked in. Sophie leapt off the bed and ran into the hallway, staring at him with her mouth open, hanging onto his gaze, terrified that she might be seeing things and he might disappear again just as quickly as he had appeared. He looked tired and dishevelled but so, so beautiful. His eyes glittered with tears and his mouth moved towards a smile, which quickly became a sob. She crossed the distance between them and threw herself onto him, kissing his face, his mouth, his body. ‘I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I love you so much.’

He gripped her just as tightly, responding hungrily to her kisses and then somehow they were in the bedroom, tearing at each other’s clothes, exploring each other’s bodies. Later, they lay naked and entwined, Sophie too afraid to move away from him in case he left again. ‘I love you.’ She looked into his eyes to try to convey how much she meant it. ‘I love you so much.’

He looked down at her, his expression gentle, the hurt already leaving his features. ‘I love you too.’

‘I’m sorry, Steve. I am so, so sorry. I will do anything… anything, to prove to you that I will never, ever hurt you again.’

‘I’m sorry too.’

‘Don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for.’ Sophie sat up and looked at him fiercely.

Much later, as they drank wine, sitting side by side, still in bed, something occurred to her. ‘Where did you go? Where have you been?’

Steve blinked slowly and shook his head slightly. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘OK.’ It was understandable. It had been such a painful time for both of them. ‘But I want you to know that I am there for you, Steve. I am going to put you first from now on. No more leading separate lives.’

Steve smiled slightly and leaned forward to kiss her. ‘And no more looking back either. I just want to forget the past and move on.’

Sophie’s eyes filled. She felt like the luckiest woman alive. He was going to give her another chance. And there was no way she was going to blow it this time.

The darkness had begun to encroach and the sky was losing the last pink traces of the day. The waves continued to crash around them and the strip of shingle that had risen out of the sea’s murky depths had now submitted to it once more.

Melissa looked at Sophie, frowning in confusion. ‘But that’s all good, isn’t it? I know you might not necessarily have planned to get pregnant just yet but you’re back with Steve, you’re madly in love again… What’s the problem?’

Sophie wrapped her arms around herself. She didn’t know if she could voice what the problem was, or admit it, even to herself. In the end she didn’t need to.

‘Oh.’ Melissa didn’t have to say any more. She understood.

‘So, as I said, I don’t know what to do.’

Melissa nodded and Sophie could see the fear in her eyes on her behalf. Her stomach churned like the sea stretching far out in front of them.

‘Well,’ Melissa began, hesitant at first, then more confident. ‘It’s almost certainly Steve’s, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. Almost.’ God, how she hated that word right now.

‘But… surely you used something with… the other one.’ Melissa stuttered over the words.

Sophie nodded. No need to tell Melissa about that last time when the condom came off. She hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. Why didn’t she think anything of it? How could she have been so stupid?

‘And with Steve?’

‘Not that first day, when he came home.’

‘So Steve will definitely think it’s his?’

Sophie nodded again, still hugging herself, not so much for warmth but for some kind of comfort. Yes, Steve would believe that the baby was his. But what if it wasn’t? Could she live with such a lie for her whole life?

‘Have you told Steve?’ Melissa stood up from where they were sitting on the sea wall and faced Sophie.

‘No. Not yet. I’m still trying to deal with it myself.’

‘Well, if you want my advice…’

‘I do.’

Melissa’s face softened and she reached out to hug Sophie. ‘Tell him. And tell yourself the same thing. And live your life looking forward, not back.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

Amy threw another slice of bacon into the scorching frying pan and watched with satisfaction as it immediately started to sizzle and crisp. There was no sign of any of the others yet, meaning she had the kitchen to herself, which was how she liked it. She wasn’t alone very often these days, ever since she moved in with Nick, so it was a rare treat.

It was lovely to see the girls but there was a strange atmosphere this year. Something that Amy couldn’t put her finger on. Sophie in particular seemed out of sorts and down. She didn’t look great either. And Melissa was drinking them all under the table, more so than usual. Even Emily seemed a bit low.

Amy sighed. She was so very happy right now and she felt bad that she couldn’t share some of it with her closest friends. It seemed inappropriate to gush about how well things were going for her when clearly the others were having issues of their own that meant they were slightly distant and distracted.