‘Are you driving tonight?’ Steve was sitting on the bed watching Sophie getting changed.
‘Yes.’ Sophie slipped a black silk top over her head and peered at her reflection.
‘You look gorgeous.’ She met Steve’s eyes in the mirror and smiled. He was always complimenting her, even when she knew herself that she didn’t look great. The pregnancy had left her with a belly that would never be flat again, even though she was slim enough everywhere else.
‘You know, you could drink, Soph. I’m sure it wouldn’t do any harm.’
Sophie shook her head.
Steve got off the bed and enveloped her in a hug. ‘It wasn’t your fault,’ he said into her hair.
‘I know.’ It was such a well-trodden conversation between them. He had said it so many times. One of these days she’d believe him.
‘Anyway…’ She pulled away from him, suddenly claustrophobic in his embrace. ‘I’d better go.’
Steve nodded and looked at her in that way he had, as if he could see right into her deepest core. ‘It’ll be good for you to see the girls again…’ His words were measured and he spoke carefully. ‘Even if it’s only for dinner.’
Sophie smiled. ‘It will.’ But although she was looking forward to seeing them, she was apprehensive too. Especially about seeing Amy. None of them had wanted to go away for a whole weekend after what happened last year but even if they had, Sophie certainly didn’t have the stomach to organize it. And left to the others, nothing would get done.
‘I just hope Nick’s not there…’ Sophie mused, as she applied her lipstick.
‘Keep an open mind. You don’t know anything for sure.’
Sophie turned to look at Steve. ‘We do, though. You can just sense it. I’ve done enough stories about it in the past to spot the signs.’
‘Well, be careful then. I don’t want him turning on you.’ Steve’s lovely blue eyes narrowed.
Sophie reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. ‘I love that you’re so defensive of me…’
Steve kissed the top of her head. ‘Pah! As if you need anyone to defend you! I certainly wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of you, that’s for sure.’
Sophie laughed. Steve was only half right. For the most part, she could be ballsy and feisty but only he knew how vulnerable she really was. The last year had been so successful professionally and so hard personally. There had been many times when all she wanted to do was curl up and hide from the rest of the world and Steve was the only one who could coax her out of it when she felt particularly low.
She took one last look at herself in the mirror. Long black silk top to hide the lumpy tummy, expensive bootleg jeans and high-heeled silver designer wedges. Her previously thick mane of hair had thinned but not catastrophically and it now shone to her shoulders. Even to her own hyper-critical eye, she thought she didn’t look too bad. ‘Right, I’ll be off then.’
‘Try to have fun, sweetheart.’ A small shadow passed over Steve’s face as he spoke and for the millionth time, Sophie felt as if she’d somehow failed him. He’d been so patient and kind, supportive and encouraging. There must have been times when he was in agony emotionally but he held it all in to focus on her.
As she walked out to the street, she turned to look back at the small terraced house that had been their home for the past four years. Just inside the miniature front wall, there was a SOLD! sign which the estate agent had put up with unseemly haste just one hour after they accepted the offer. The house was small. It was ever so slightly tatty. But looking at it now, Sophie felt a pang of affection for it. It had been a place of safety and security. Yes, there had been turmoil and grief, but on the whole it was a happy house. She would miss it.
Melissa was waiting outside Notting Hill tube station as Sophie pulled up. ‘Hey!’ she beamed, clambering into the passenger seat and leaning across to kiss Sophie. ‘Crikey, it’s hot, isn’t it? Oh, Soph, you look great. Really great.’
‘Well, I couldn’t look worse than the last time you saw me, could I?’ Sophie immediately regretted the remark. ‘Sorry,’ she added, before she put the car into gear and pulled away.
There was a beat before they both said in unison, ‘I hope Nick’s not there tonight…’ and burst out laughing, immediately breaking the tension.
‘I’m amazed he agreed to us coming over. I bet he’s given her a hard time about it.’ Sophie glanced at Melissa, who was applying her lipstick in the mirror.
‘Probably preferable to letting her go away for the weekend where he can’t keep an eye on her every move. I bet he never lets her go away again.’
‘I hope you’re wrong about that. But I have a horrible feeling you might be right.’
Sophie pulled to a halt at a red light and turned to look at Melissa. ‘So how are you, Liss? You look good. Are you still behaving yourself?’
Melissa looked down into her lap. She didn’t reply for a moment and Sophie’s heart sank.
‘Mostly,’ she replied eventually. ‘But it’s hard. Especially when everyone around me is getting off their faces all the time. I’ve fallen off the wagon a few times.’ She gave Sophie a sheepish look.
‘Well, as long as you get back on again, that’s all that matters.’
‘It’s so boring, though, Soph. You have no idea.’
‘Actually I do.’ In front of her the light turned green and she pulled away again.
‘Are you still not drinking?’ Melissa sounded aghast.
‘Nope.’ Sophie smiled. The reaction was always the same. People didn’t seem to be able to conceive of a life without alcohol.
‘You know it wasn’t your fault, don’t you?’ Melissa began.
Sophie put a hand up to stop her. ‘Don’t,’ she cut in. ‘I can’t go there. Not yet.’
Melissa nodded. ‘So, work seems to be going well!’ Her voice rose a couple of octaves, as if to emphasize that she knew she was changing the subject.
Sophie relaxed. ‘It is. Actually, it’s been my saviour over the past year. I love it.’
‘I’m not surprised. You certainly picked the right man to hitch your wagon to. I wish I’d got in there now. I knew Mark Bailey when he was a nobody in the music industry.’
Sophie laughed. The idea of Mark Bailey being a nobody was hard to imagine. His star had risen sharply over the two years since they’d set up their company and he was starting to attract a lot of attention in the US. The company was making a fortune, thanks to a huge commission from the network, and the format had already been sold to several other countries around the world. Sophie had always felt that Mark was going places – she just had no idea that it would all happen so quickly.
‘He’s really quite attractive, I think,’ Melissa pondered.
‘I wonder if you thought that before he made his first million?’ Sophie countered, grinning at her.
‘Well, of course I did!’ Melissa looked mock indignant, then burst out laughing. ‘Although now you mention it, maybe a bit of fame and fortune has added a certain je ne sais quoi to his charms.’
‘I think we all know what it’s added!’ Sophie said drily.
‘Seriously, though, Soph, has there never been any kind of frisson of attraction? You’re working together very closely…’
‘Stop it. I really love working with Mark but I would never fancy him in a million years. And he’d never fancy me. I’m definitely not his type.’
‘Well, that’s probably a good thing…’
‘Yup.’ Sophie pulled onto the driveway in front of Amy’s huge, white stucco house. It was in a quiet, leafy square and boasted some of the most expensive properties in London. She looked up at the facade before her and exhaled. ‘Different world, isn’t it?’
‘It won’t be long before you’re living in something like this, Soph, the way you’re going.’
‘Hardly!’ Sophie scoffed. Their new house wasn’t anything like Amy’s and it certainly didn’t have such an exclusive postcode. But it was a huge step up for them, with five bedrooms, so that the children could have their own rooms as they got older. Assuming they had more children. And she did assume it. In fact, she yearned for it. Had become obsessed by it.
Amy opened the door with a flourish and for a moment, it seemed as if she was back to her old self. ‘Helloooo!’ she squealed, grabbing Sophie and Melissa into an embrace with both arms, squashing the bottle of champagne and bouquet of flowers they were clutching. ‘I am so happy to see you! Come in, come in!’ She stood aside to allow them to step into the wide, oak-floored hallway. Outside, the temperature was sweltering but inside it was noticeably cooler.
Sophie gazed around her as she followed Amy through to the large, airy kitchen. Every inch of the house was perfect. There wasn’t a single speck of dust or a piece of chipped paint anywhere. ‘My God, Amy. Your house is so pristine. How the hell do you manage to keep it like that? Especially as you were always so messy!’
Amy’s face clouded as she followed Sophie’s gaze. ‘I don’t,’ she said, almost contemptuously. ‘I have a housekeeper every day.’
‘You lucky cow!’ Sophie pulled out a stool and perched at the huge marble island in the centre of the room where Amy had lined up four champagne flutes and a bottle of champagne. ‘My house is like a rubbish tip. We’re both as bad as each other so our poor cleaner really doesn’t make much of a dent in it for her fifty quid a week.’
Amy looked at her longingly. ‘I’d love a bit of mess. But Nick’s unbelievably fussy. I think he might be OCD. He goes mad if anything is out of place.’
Melissa and Sophie exchanged glances, as they took a seat.
‘So,’ Melissa said, cutting through the awkward pause. ‘When’s Em getting here?’
‘She should be here any moment.’ Amy picked up the champagne bottle and began to pour.
‘Not for me,’ said Sophie, unable to meet Amy’s eye. ‘I’m not drinking.’
Amy nodded but didn’t say anything. She finished pouring the champagne into two glasses and put the bottle down on the worktop. Then she opened the huge American-style fridge and retrieved a carton of cranberry juice. ‘How about this?’ she said, smiling.
Sophie smiled back. ‘Perfect.’
At that moment, the doorbell rang. Amy ran to answer it.
‘Thank God he’s not here,’ Melissa whispered, as soon as she was out of earshot.
Sophie nodded. ‘I know. And however hard she tries, you can see it in her eyes. She’s not happy, is she?’
Melissa shook her head just as Amy returned, ushering Emily into the kitchen.
As they hugged their hellos, Sophie wondered if she was imagining that Emily seemed more awkward around her than usual. To be fair, lots of people did. She wished they didn’t.
Once all their glasses were filled, Amy lifted hers. ‘I’d like to make a toast,’ she began, before stopping. She bit her lip nervously and took a deep breath. ‘Here’s to you, Sophie. I can’t imagine how you’ve got through the past year. But you have. And we all love you.’
Sophie’s eyes filled. She could barely see to lift her own glass, which she clinked against the other three. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
‘Bloody hell, the flight’s only from Belfast,’ Melissa moaned. ‘Why are the bags taking so long to come through?’
Just then, the alarm sounded and the carousel began to move. ‘At last!’ Emily sighed. ‘My feet are going numb. Sophie, you look a bit peaky. Why don’t you go and sit down? We can get your bag.’
Sophie began to object but thought better of it. As she stumbled towards the seats, she realized that the nagging pain that had started in her back was now in her stomach too and it was getting worse. It felt as if something was gnawing at her insides. As she slumped down onto one of the chairs, she felt a rushing sensation and yelped in agony.
Everyone waiting at the carousel turned to look at her in shock. ‘Help,’ she managed to whisper, as a pool of red formed around her and feet came running from all directions.
‘It’s not your fault.’ It was the first of many, many times she would hear those words. Steve held her hand and looked at her with bright blue eyes that were dimmed with tiredness and grief. But it didn’t matter how many times she heard it, she would never believe it. It was her fault. Before she knew she was pregnant, she had been more than a little bit merry on several occasions. Once, at an awards ceremony with Mark and the team at work, she had been properly drunk. It was payback for what she’d done in the past. She knew it.
‘It was a boy, Steve.’
Steve’s eyes filled and he nodded.
Don’t say it, she willed him. Please don’t say it. Other people would say it but she didn’t want him to.
Steve made as if to speak, then seemed to think better of it. He nodded again and squeezed her hand instead.
Yes, they could try again. Yes, she was still young enough. Yes, at least she knew she could get pregnant. All the platitudes that other people trotted out, wanting to help. Not realizing how utterly futile they sounded. As if they were talking about a pair of shoes that didn’t fit. She didn’t want to try again. She wanted this baby. Only Steve really understood and she loved him so much for it.
Going back to work was easier than she had expected because she hadn’t told anyone about the pregnancy in the first place, something she was eternally grateful for now. She had just worn baggier tops and looser trousers, safe in the knowledge that no one would notice.
Mark might have thought that she was putting on weight but it would never have occurred to him that she might be pregnant. It wasn’t that he was unkind or selfish. He was just a very rich, single man without children, who would have been baffled by the idea of anyone actively wanting to have a baby.
Their relationship was very close but it was purely professional. Mark never asked about her home life and she never volunteered any information. Likewise, although her natural journalistic nosiness meant she was quite interested in his love life, she had sensed right from the start of their partnership that it was best not to pry. Anyway, she could read about his high-profile liaisons in the papers whenever she wanted to.
Melissa and Emily had both been fantastic. They had gone with her to the hospital that first, awful night and then called or texted her regularly for weeks. They managed to keep their distance at the same time as letting her know they were there for her if she needed them.
Amy was a different matter. Emily had told her what had happened and she had called Sophie in floods of tears. ‘It should have been me… not you!’ she wailed.
Sophie had reeled in shock. ‘What? God, no, Amy, don’t say that.’
But Amy’s words were unstoppable. ‘I don’t even want this bloody baby, Sophie,’ she continued. ‘I thought I was losing my baby too… the day after you. And I was glad! I wanted to lose it.’
Sophie stared at the phone in horror, completely at a loss for what to say. ‘No…’ she stuttered, eventually. ‘You don’t mean that.’
‘I do mean it! If I could swap places with you, I would. This is all so wrong.’
Sophie’s legs felt wobbly and she had to sit down. ‘If you’re trying to make me feel better, Amy, it’s not working.’
Amy continued to sob on the other end of the line while Sophie listened. ‘Amy?’ she said, when the crying eventually subsided to a hiccough. ‘What’s going on? What’s made you feel like this? If it’s guilt on my behalf, then please don’t. There’s no need.’
‘It’s not guilt. Well, yes, it is guilt, I suppose. It just all feels so wrong, Sophie. You really, really wanted your baby. And I really, really don’t.’
Sophie gasped.
‘I know!’ Amy continued. ‘I know it’s an evil thing to say. But it’s how I feel. Oh God, I don’t know what to do…’ She descended into another bout of sobbing so violent that Sophie began to feel seriously alarmed.
‘Right,’ she said, trying to sound controlled and firm. ‘You need to calm down. Do you want me to come over?’
‘No! No…’ There was genuine panic in Amy’s voice. ‘You mustn’t come over. Promise me you won’t come over?’
Sophie frowned. ‘OK, OK! I won’t come over. But you’re worrying me, Amy. You need to talk to someone.’
Amy blew her nose on the other end of the phone. ‘I’m talking to you, aren’t I?’
Sophie shook her head. She was worried about Amy but she couldn’t deal with this right now. She had enough worries of her own. ‘Look, Amy… I’m going to get Emily to call you, OK? I’m in no state to offer advice and I just can’t…’ She tailed off as the tears began to overflow. Amy was right, it was so unfair. She had wanted her baby so much. But now he was gone. Yet Amy’s was still there – growing, kicking, alive. Unwanted. How could that be right?
‘I’m so sorry, Soph,’ Amy started to say. But Sophie had rung off.
She locked herself in the bathroom and allowed herself to cry for five minutes. Then she wiped her face, blew her nose and stood up straight. She couldn’t afford to crumple. She owed it to Emma and Steve to get through this and stay strong.
Emily answered immediately. ‘Soph? Are you OK?’
Sophie took a deep, shuddery breath. ‘Yes, I’m fine. But Amy’s not. Can you call her, Em? I just don’t have the strength to deal with it right now…’
‘Of course.’ Emily’s tone was brisk and businesslike.
‘I’m worried about her. She’s in a bad way.’
‘Worse than in Ireland?’
‘Yes. Definitely worse. But I offered to go over and she panicked. It’s him…’
Emily sighed. ‘I know. God, what a mess. Listen, Soph, you shouldn’t be worrying about this now. Leave it to me. I’ll call her.’
‘Thanks, Em. Will you let me know how you get on?’
Emily hesitated. ‘I’ll only tell you what I need to. You’ve got enough on your plate.’
‘OK. Thank you.’
It would be another month before Sophie spoke to Amy again, by which time she sounded much calmer and seemed to have got her head together. They didn’t discuss her earlier outburst and when Sophie asked how the pregnancy was progressing, Amy had breezily assured her it was fine.