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

Emily spluttered on her Cava. ‘Christ! I don’t think anyone should follow my example… I love Jack to distraction but it’s been bloody hard from day one. Given the choice I would definitely wait until I had established my career and was a lot more secure financially.’

‘But you haven’t got a partner like Sophie ha—’ Amy tailed off in embarrassment as she realized too late how tactless her words sounded.

‘No. I don’t have a partner. Thank you for pointing that out, Amy.’ Emily looked suddenly furious.

‘I’m sure Amy didn’t mean it like that.’ Sophie shot Amy a warning look as she spoke. ‘No, I’m not planning babies any time soon, thanks, Amy. Anyway, we’re not even married,’ she added.

‘What’s your name? Jane Austen?’ Amy teased and a low snigger of amusement emitted from Melissa.

‘No, it’s just…’ Sophie stood up and scrunched her long chestnut hair distractedly into a ponytail. She looked flustered. ‘Well, I can’t imagine what it must be like to throw away the condoms and actually plan to make a baby. We’ve all spent so many years trying desperately not to get pregnant after what happened to Em… Sorry, Em, but you know what I mean, don’t you?’

Emily nodded, slightly wearily.

Amy’s head whirled with thoughts of Nick. She tried not to get too carried away – after all, they had only been dating for four months. But already she could picture them as parents. Nick was so protective of her and caring. He made her feel special in a way that no one ever had before. She knew she didn’t have the wit or the brains or the personality that the others had. She was the quiet one who hated any kind of confrontation and would go along with what everyone else wanted to do in order to keep the peace. But Nick seemed to find her captivating and hung on her every word. He wanted to spend every waking minute with her and told her he couldn’t get enough of her. She loved it.

She wondered idly whether their children would inherit her auburn hair and green eyes or Nick’s swarthy dark good looks, hoping it would be the latter. He was such a beautiful man – even thinking about him now made her feel weak with longing. She had had many boyfriends in the past but Nick was different. Special. She already felt that he was ‘the one’.

‘Do you think you and Steve will get married then?’ Emily interrupted the silence, cutting through Amy’s daydream.

All eyes locked on to Sophie, who seemed to quail slightly as she spoke: ‘Uh… maybe. I’ve never really thought about it.’

‘Oh, you should!’ Amy clapped her hands together several times, excitement bubbling up inside her. ‘It would be so fantastic to have a wedding to go to. I could bring Nick…’ She left the thought hanging tantalizingly in the air, imagining already what she might wear, how perfect Nick would look in a morning suit.

‘Well, I’m not planning to get married just so that you lot can have a day out.’ Sophie frowned at Amy. ‘And you need to stop daydreaming, Amy. You’ll frighten him off if you’re too keen.’

Amy grinned. ‘I can’t help it. You know what I’m like. And it hasn’t frightened him off so far.’

‘True. But then, he hasn’t met me yet!’ Melissa stood up and stretched languorously, showing off her toned, brown-skinned belly as she did so. Amy laughed, though a tiny prickle of nervousness passed through her. Melissa was a legendary flirt. But despite her sexiness and beauty, she had never enjoyed anything more than flings and one-night stands. Men never seemed to stick around. And she didn’t think Melissa was Nick’s type anyway. He was always telling Amy how much he loved her because she was so unusual, with her long, slim legs, mane of red hair and dazzling green eyes. She could easily have been a successful model but standing and posing in front of a lens had never interested her. She was too dreamy. Too creative. If anything, she wanted to be the one holding the camera.

‘Anyway, girls, enough of this nonsense. I’m starving.’ Melissa threw Amy a pleading look. ‘Amy, get a move on and cook our dinner.’

CHAPTER THREE

The next morning an early haze burned quickly away to reveal a cloudless blue sky. Emily’s leg muscles throbbed as she pounded along the beach. Running on sand was so much harder than jogging through the park near her London flat. But the salty sea air, the warmth of the sun on her skin and the gentle lapping of the waves on the shoreline were like a balm to her soul and spurred her on to keep running. Every step helped to clear her head a little more after drinking far too much last night. She hadn’t drunk that much in years. Since before Jack was born.

Seeing the others was always a bittersweet experience – it churned up so many mixed feelings. Most of all, it made her long to turn back time to their first year of university when they were all living together in the same halls of residence, young and clueless before life got in the way.

Sophie and Melissa had shared a room, while Emily and Amy had occupied the single rooms either side of them. Naturally, Melissa and Sophie were particularly close, meaning Amy and Emily also paired off. But from the start, the four of them were a tight unit. Emily had loved those days. Looking back through the prism of time, they seemed so carefree and untroubled – when problems weren’t really problems at all. They were just excuses for tearful dramas, followed by whole nights sitting up drinking and talking until dawn, dissecting and condemning whoever might have slighted one of them.

Those were Emily’s last memories of being truly happy. After that first year, when they all went their separate ways, everything changed. Sophie moved in with Steve, while Amy and Melissa shared a flat. They asked Emily to move in with them but she chose to stay in halls.

She never told the others the real reason she wanted to be close to the university but she sometimes wondered if they guessed. Anton was her tutor and over the course of her first year, Emily had grown increasingly attracted to him. In his late thirties, he was tall, tanned, blond and devastatingly charming. He was also devastatingly married with two young children.

Emily told herself that it was just a crush and that nothing could ever happen between them but however hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to contain her feelings for him. In fact, with each passing month, they grew stronger until he had become something of an obsession. She would find excuses to spend extra time with him, citing the need to go over her last essay in greater detail or to discuss a new theory she had about a particular author. Just being alone with him was enough.

Anton seemed impressed by her dedication to her studies and certainly didn’t discourage her from asking for more help. Over time she convinced herself that the attraction was mutual.

The others would sometimes tease her and call her a swot or a teacher’s pet but they never actually asked if there was anything going on between them. The closest they came was when Melissa had wondered aloud whether it was Anton that was the attraction, rather than the Breton Lays in Middle English. Emily had laughed it off, pointing out that even if she did think Anton was very attractive, she would never make a move on a) a married man or b) her tutor. ‘I would get the blame and I’d be thrown off the course.’

Melissa had pondered this for a moment. ‘He’d be blamed too. He could lose his post.’

‘Well, it’s a good job there’s nothing going on then, isn’t it?’ Emily had countered, relieved to have been able to deny it so categorically.

After that, it was never mentioned again, and Emily was able to indulge her obsession without being questioned. Her results improved and she was seen as the top student in her year, destined for a first-class degree, followed by a big career.

‘It’s down to you,’ she told Anton, when she gained the highest marks in her exams at the end of the second year.

Anton had smiled the slightly crooked smile that she had spent so many nights dreaming about and reached out to take her hand. Emily’s heart banged in her chest, wondering if this was the moment he would finally admit his feelings for her.

‘There’s something I need to tell you.’

She nodded, her mouth too dry to speak.

‘I’m leaving.’

Emily blinked. She must have misheard. It wasn’t possible.

‘Leaving?’

Anton nodded. ‘I’ve got a new job. In Durham. I won’t be back next term.’ He was looking at her earnestly. Apologetically.

Emily’s thoughts lurched ahead to her third year, stretching out before her like a barren wasteland. He had to reconsider. ‘What about me?’ she said, realizing as the words left her lips how childish they sounded.

‘You’ll be fine!’ He squeezed her hand, his eyes holding hers. ‘You’re doing so well. Just keep it up and you’ll get the first you deserve.’

‘I don’t care about a bloody first!’ Emily spat, her thoughts tumbling furiously over one another.

Anton dropped her hand and cleared his throat. ‘Look, Emily, you’ve worked so hard. Don’t blow it now.’

Emily gazed at him in disbelief. As she did so, it dawned on her that this was a common scenario for Anton. Students fell for him all the time. Of course they did. He was gorgeous. She wasn’t the first and she wouldn’t be the last. The realization hit her like a sledgehammer blow.

‘All this time, you must have been laughing at me—’

‘No!’ The vehemence of Anton’s denial made her catch her breath. ‘No,’ he repeated. ‘I have never laughed at you. I, well, if things had been different…’ He left the words hanging in the air between them.

‘Don’t.’ Emily stood up and smoothed down her jeans, swallowing back the tears that were thick in her throat. ‘Just… don’t.’

Anton watched her as she gathered her bags together. His pale blue eyes glittered slightly but he didn’t speak.

‘Well. Thank you. Good luck in your new job.’ Her words sounded forced. Which is what they were.

‘Thank you, Emily. Good luck with the rest of your course. I look forward to reading your first novel one day.’

‘Yeah. Right.’ Emily threw him a final glance over her shoulder before closing the door behind her.

It would be almost a year before she saw him again.

AUGUST 1998

‘President Bill Clinton has given a nationally televised statement, in which he admits that he had an “improper physical relationship” with White House intern Monica Lewinsky, and that it was “not appropriate”.’

WHITSTABLE

CHAPTER FOUR

Melissa opened the bottle of champagne with a practised pop and expertly poured some into each of the four glasses she had lined up on the granite worktop.

‘Not for me, thanks.’ Sophie wouldn’t look at Melissa as she spoke, turning away from her and perching on one of the stools lined up against the breakfast bar.

‘What? You’re joking, aren’t you? I’ve known you for eight years now and you’ve never once turned down champagne.’

‘I’m not feeling great, to be honest.’

Melissa’s antennae prickled. Sometimes she thought she knew Sophie better than she knew herself. Something was very wrong and she did indeed look like death.

After a moment spent staring at Sophie’s back, Melissa quickly drained Sophie’s glass and put it in the sink. Then she picked up two glasses and handed them out to Amy and Emily who were sitting at the pretty cloth-covered wooden table by the window. They were chatting animatedly and hadn’t noticed the exchange between Sophie and Melissa.

‘Here’s to Amy and Nick!’ Melissa interrupted, striding into the middle of the room with her own full champagne flute aloft.

Sophie scuttled to the cupboard and retrieved a wine glass, which she quickly filled with tap water. Melissa pretended not to see.

Amy, wearing a short, floaty green dress that showed off her long, toned legs and matched her vivid eyes perfectly, stood up and twirled in delight, sending her long auburn hair swinging behind her.

Melissa watched her, envy scorching through her like heartburn as she raised her glass to toast Amy’s engagement. Nick had proposed to her during a romantic weekend in Capri. According to Amy, he had waited until they had arrived by chairlift at the top of a mountain before bending down on one knee and producing a stunning antique diamond ring. He was rich, he was so handsome it was almost comical and he was madly in love with Amy.

Melissa couldn’t understand why she felt so envious. She had no desire to settle down and anyway, she hadn’t met anyone she would want to settle down with. Yet Amy’s happiness and radiance made her feel as though she had somehow failed.

How different Amy’s life suddenly seemed to the others’, having all travelled down such wildly contrasting paths since their weekend away last year. Emily was still scrimping and struggling to support herself and Jack alone; Sophie seemed to have lost her natural sparkle and disappeared into her own melancholy world and Melissa’s love life was non-existent. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. Melissa’s sex life was excellent. It was just that there wasn’t much love involved in any of her liaisons, mainly because the men she slept with were usually married, or in long-term relationships. She told herself that she didn’t care: she was young and she was having fun. She dismissed the niggling voice whispering in her ear in the middle of the night that sex, however good, was no replacement for love. Nor was it actually very much fun.

‘So when’s the big day then?’ Emily’s voice cut through Melissa’s maudlin thoughts as they all pulled a chair around the table and sat down. Distractedly, Melissa picked up a corner of the checked blue-and-white tablecloth and began to twist it around her thumb, remembering as she did so how, as a child, she used to twist her special blanket in the same way, before sucking her thumb. She had a sudden flashback to her four-year-old self, sitting on the stairs watching her mum and dad scream at each other with pure hatred in their eyes. That must have been the last row before they split up for good. She couldn’t remember being in that house after that night.

Amy took a sip of her champagne, the bubbles dancing in the liquid like a perfect reflection of the glints of light in her green eyes. Happiness, Melissa decided, unable to pull her own eyes away from Amy’s, was the best beauty product there was. She had never seen anyone look more beautiful.

‘I’m not entirely sure but I think it’ll be about this time next year. Nick’s in charge – he has very firm ideas about what he wants. I’ll just do what I’m told.’

‘We could make our weekend away next year your hen weekend!’ Melissa’s thoughts snapped back to the present and she glugged her glass of champagne greedily, eager to shut out the flashbacks to the past. She placed it carefully on the table, before lifting the bottle and refilling, noticing that Sophie made to cover hers with her hand just in case Melissa tried to refill it. But as no one else had drained their glass the way Melissa had, she just returned the half-empty bottle to the table.

‘That’s a great idea!’ Amy paused and looked at each of them in turn, as if she was contemplating whether to say something. ‘Actually,’ she began, clearly having decided to say whatever it was. ‘There’s something I’d like to ask you all…’

A whisper of anticipation swept around the table. Melissa’s eyes instinctively turned towards Sophie, who raised her eyebrows.

‘I wondered if you might consider being my bridesmaids?’ Amy suddenly looked shy.

‘What? All of us?’ Sophie had a slight look of panic on her face.

‘Yes! All of you!’ A tiny furrow appeared in the skin between Amy’s eyebrows, as if she was suddenly unsure whether she had said the right thing. ‘Although… only if you want to.’

‘Of course we all want to!’ Melissa threw Sophie a what the hell? look. What was going on with her?

‘Y… yes!’ Sophie stuttered out the words. ‘We’d l… love to!’

Amy’s face relaxed into a wide smile. ‘Oh, that’s amazing! Thank you.’ She clapped her hands with glee. ‘And Em, I was thinking that maybe Jack could be my pageboy?’

Emily nodded immediately. ‘He’d love to! As long as you don’t dress him up in velvet pantaloons.’

‘No pantaloons, I promise.’ Amy sighed happily and took a sip of her champagne, oblivious to the tumultuous emotions swirling around the heads of all three of her friends.

CHAPTER FIVE

Emily emptied her small suitcase onto the pretty quilted throw on the bed and looked out of the latticed window towards the beach. The sun was beginning to lose some of its heat and turn from yellow to peach, though it hadn’t yet dipped in the sky. She watched two figures making their way out along the strip of shingle that had risen up from beneath the waves as the tide slowly retreated.

Watching them now, it was almost comical. Sophie, so tall with her long, thick chestnut hair and Melissa, so tiny with her shoulder-length braids, both of them with their heads bowed against the strong breeze, their hair whipping around their faces.

It wasn’t hard to guess what they were talking about with such intensity. She had immediately clocked Sophie not drinking and she looked terrible, with her skin almost grey under the harsh rays of the afternoon sun. Emily recognized the symptoms, though she wished she didn’t. She loved her Jack so very much. So much that sometimes it physically hurt. But she wished… no, she couldn’t even allow herself to think it. Her life had taken a turn that fateful night and she couldn’t turn it back.

‘You’re drunk!’ she laughed, staggering as he boomeranged between her and the brick wall they were passing.

He ran his hand through his blond hair as he stumbled on. ‘So are you.’

She couldn’t deny it. It was rare for her to let herself go but it had been such a fun night. And such a lovely surprise to see him. They had run into each other by chance at a gig being held at the university. The members of the band had all left at the end of their first year to pursue a music career. Their contemporaries and their lecturers had shaken their heads and mumbled darkly about the ‘biggest mistake of their lives’. But to everyone’s surprise, including the band themselves, they had gone on to be very successful and were already selling out huge venues around the world. This gig was a thank-you to their old uni mates and favourite tutors for their early support, so it was a very small and intimate affair.

Emily had gone alone because none of the other girls in her halls of residence were third years and therefore weren’t invited. Melissa had been at the gig too but Emily had lost sight of her early on and assumed she had left.

He seemed as delighted and surprised to see her as she was to see him. They spent the evening getting more and more drunk and sweaty, as they thrashed amid the adoring crowd. By the end they were barely able to stand up, although he was worse than her.

‘Can I crash on your floor?’ His voice was staccato, as he tried in vain to sound sober by concentrating on each word. ‘I’m not sure I’ll make it back in one piece.’

Despite her drunken state, she hesitated. ‘Better not,’ she slurred.

‘No one will know.’

That was true. If he left first thing in the morning, it was unlikely anyone would see him. ‘OK. But you’re sleeping on the floor.’

‘’S’all I need.’

She was woken by the sound of him stumbling around, crashing first into her desk, then her bed. Still in an alcohol haze, she momentarily forgot why he was there. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, before lifting the duvet and sliding in beside her.

‘What the…?’ she started to say, but he silenced her with a kiss and all argument was lost as she melted into him, her body unable to resist as his hands and mouth moved lower.

Afterwards, he fell asleep straight away, with her awkwardly entangled in his arms. She lay there staring up at the ceiling in shock at what had just happened.

As the smudgy light of dawn began to seep over the top of the curtains, she nudged him gently awake and moved as far away from him as she could. His eyes flickered open and she watched as he tried to compute where he was. Slowly he turned his head towards her, a look of horror in his eyes. ‘Shit,’ he whispered.

‘It’s OK.’ She sounded more in control than she felt. ‘Get dressed. Leave. Go home. We can forget this ever happened. Don’t worry, I’m not going to stalk you…’

Relief made his features relax and he nodded. He lifted the duvet, then hesitated, as if only just becoming aware of his nakedness.

Emily closed her eyes and turned her head to the wall. ‘I won’t look.’

After another second’s hesitation, he climbed out of bed and Emily listened as he gathered up his clothes from the floor, then dressed quickly. She turned her head towards him and opened her eyes. He looked far more handsome than he had any right to.

He put his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and bit his lip, awkwardness and embarrassment enveloping him like a blanket. ‘Sorry,’ he murmured, glancing longingly towards the door, desperate for escape.

‘Go,’ she said again.

After he’d gone, she tried to get back to sleep but couldn’t. The smell of him lingered on her sheets and on her body, bringing with it flashbacks of him thrusting into her, setting her alight in a way that she’d never known before. With an almighty effort, she pushed the thoughts away, got out of bed and began to strip the duvet cover and pillowcases. She threw them into a pile in the middle of the floor and stared at the bare mattress, trying to make sense of what had happened. Already she somehow knew that this night would affect the rest of her life.

Watching Sophie and Melissa out on the beach in the evening sunlight, Emily felt a violent stab of jealousy. Sophie’s situation was so different from the one she had found herself in. Sophie was in a happy, settled relationship with the love of her life, while Emily had been lost, scared and alone, sworn to secrecy and not even able to share the excitement and happiness of all the milestones along the way – the scans, the birth, the first tooth, the first step. Sophie would be able to share all of that with her Steve and although she knew it was irrational, Emily hated her for it.

CHAPTER SIX

‘So are you going to tell me or do I have to guess?’ Melissa had borrowed a pair of too-big wellies and an oversized Barbour coat from the house, giving her the comical appearance of a child wearing its parents’ clothes as she and Sophie crunched together over the shingle.

Sophie pulled her own leather jacket around her. Although it was August, the temperature still dropped sharply in the evenings, producing a strong breeze that carried with it more than a hint of ice. She looked ahead at the rapidly setting sun, a fierce ball of orange melting into a slate-grey sea. Walking along this narrow strip of shingle, which rose mystically from the water with each low tide, Sophie had a sudden feeling that she was walking on water. That she was invincible. ‘I’m pregnant.’

She couldn’t be sure if it was the sound of the wind or a sharp intake of breath from Melissa that whipped past her ears. They crunched along without speaking until they reached the end and couldn’t walk any further without wading into the murky depths – the prospect of which Sophie found momentarily, desperately appealing. She hesitated, waiting for the temptation to pass, before turning. Ahead of them the clapperboard house rose up in its pale-blue painted splendour. The last of the sun’s tired rays glinted lazily off the latticed windows, giving the impression that the house was slowly but surely dropping off to sleep.