CAPRI, ITALY
‘That’s where Nick proposed to me. Right there…’ Amy pointed to a viewing platform on a cliff edge that plunged sharply down towards the whitewashed houses of Capri, nestling above the sparkling blue Mediterranean Sea.
Sophie followed her gaze. ‘I remember you telling us now. I’d forgotten that it was here. It must be difficult, being back…’
Amy shook out her long auburn hair, still remarkably untouched by grey and gleaming under the rays of the hot Italian sun. ‘No. It’s cathartic, actually. Makes me realize that my marriage wasn’t all bad. There were times when we were happy.’
Sophie gave a neutral nod. Even after all these years, she couldn’t bring herself to think of Nick in anything like a positive way. Yet Amy could. Amy, who had almost been killed by him. ‘You’re amazing,’ she said.
Amy closed her eyes and turned her face up towards the sun. ‘Yup, that’s me. Amazing Amy.’
Sophie watched her admiringly. At forty years old, she looked at least ten years younger and was completely comfortable in her own skin, which was also still flawless. Her business was thriving and she now employed eight people, meaning she had had to learn how to be a boss. To everyone’s surprise, she had discovered that she had a talent for managing people and as a result, her confidence had soared.
She was a wonderful mother to Megan and George, neither of whom showed any sign of the trauma that had tainted their early lives. Megan would soon be starting secondary school and had blossomed from a timid, anxious child into a confident, happy girl. Both children still spent a lot of time with Sophie and Steve, sometimes popping in to pick up something they’d forgotten and not leaving for days on end.
Sophie didn’t mind. It gave Amy and Dean the chance to have some time alone together. ‘Do you think you’ll get married again?’ she asked now.
Amy smiled and shook her head. ‘No! I love Dean. And he loves me. But we’re happy just the way we are.’
‘Not even…?’ Sophie nodded towards Amy’s rounded stomach.
Amy cradled her small bump affectionately. ‘No. I want things to be completely different this time. Although the baby will definitely have Dean’s surname. That’s enough for him.’
Sophie couldn’t help smiling. Amy’s happiness was infectious. She had waited a long time for this baby and had almost given up hope. But just as they were starting to investigate IVF, she had conceived naturally. Both she and Sophie had burst into tears of joy when she told her the news. After all that she had been through, it felt like the happy ending she deserved.
Sophie stretched, enjoying the feel of the hot sun on her skin. It had been such a busy year so far, so she was making the most of this weekend. It was the first weekend away with the girls in five long years. None of them had felt ready before now. Too much had happened. But now seemed like the right time and the wedding had given them the perfect excuse.
She and Amy had snuck away after breakfast, wanting to get some peace and quiet. Some respite before the real madness began.
They had taken an open-top taxi from Capri town centre, up to Anacapri, a smaller town further up the mountain. Once there, Amy had led them to a rickety-looking chairlift that carried them in single chairs, right to the very top of the mountain. It was still relatively early, so there weren’t many other people around yet and the views were breathtaking. From Sophie’s seat, she could see right across the bay of Naples, towards Vesuvius in all its smouldering glory. ‘This is perfect, Amy. Can’t we just stay here all day?’
Amy laughed. ‘I wish! No, we’d better think about getting back.’ She looked at her watch. ‘There’s only a couple of hours to go before the main event.’
‘Spoilsport!’ Sophie teased, but she was already getting up. ‘I suppose you’re right. That is the reason we’re here, after all.’
Melissa smoothed down her dress for the tenth time. ‘I look so fat!’ she wailed, looking disdainfully at her reflection in the huge, ornate mirror in her suite.
‘I wish I looked that fat!’ Sophie said, standing behind Melissa and motioning towards the mirror. ‘You’re at least half my size.’
Melissa gave a sheepish grin. ‘Sorry. Do you think I look OK? Really?’ She spun around so that she was facing Sophie, looking up at her with a pleading expression.
Sophie shook her head. ‘No, Melissa, you do not look OK. You look…’ she continued quickly, as Melissa’s face crumpled in dismay, ‘you look absolutely, stunningly, ravishingly beautiful.’
Melissa’s delicate features and tiny frame had blossomed over the past couple of years. Her pregnancy had left her with more curves, even though her flat stomach had snapped back into shape after giving birth just six months previously. Her smooth, dark skin was glowing and her hair now hung in thick, shiny ringlets to her shoulders. ‘He is a very lucky man.’
Melissa’s twinkling brown eyes dulled slightly and she looked away, the pain of what had happened never very far from the surface.
Melissa glanced down as her mobile began to vibrate silently in her open handbag. She could see from the screen that it was Sophie. She reached down discreetly to switch it off, hoping that no one had noticed. She was in a pitch meeting with the network. It was the biggest one she had had since joining this production company, pitching for a new multi-million-pound Saturday-night entertainment show, and she didn’t want to screw it up.
She had felt that she had no choice but to leave Merlin, even though both Sophie and Mark begged her not to. Working with him was just too painful and too dangerous. She knew in her heart that she wouldn’t be able to resist him if they continued to work so closely together.
So she had handed in her notice and very quickly landed a job with another production company, Tightrope Productions, as head of entertainment. It was a great company and it was a great job. But it wasn’t the same. Melissa missed working with Sophie. And most of all, she missed Mark.
At first, she compensated for his loss by following his every move on Twitter and on Mailonline, even though it made her feel physically sick every time she saw him being photographed with yet another glamorous woman on his arm. He was a global megastar, whose every move was well documented, so it was easy to keep tabs on him.
But as she settled into her new job, she began to search for his name less and less frequently, until she was only looking him up a couple of times a month. And then she met Pete, which is when she stopped looking altogether.
Pete was a comedy producer at Tightrope and was the exact opposite of Mark. He was exceptionally tall – well over six foot – with a shock of messy black hair and a chiselled, craggy face. Everyone, Melissa included, assumed he was gay, as he had never been known to have a girlfriend, and he was almost pathologically private.
But one night, when they were working late together on a new show, he suddenly asked her if she would ever consider going out to dinner with him.
Melissa had looked up at him in surprise. ‘Sure. Do you mean just the two of us?’
Pete had looked around him theatrically at the empty office. ‘Um, yes. That’s usually the case on a date, isn’t it?’
‘A date?’ Melissa had blurted out the words before she could stop herself. ‘Like, a romantic date?’
Pete smiled and Melissa felt her stomach give a tiny flip, noticing for the first time just how sexy his full mouth was. ‘Yes, Melissa, a romantic date.’ He rolled the ‘r’ as he spoke, making her laugh out loud.
‘I don’t…’ Melissa hesitated for a second. Pete was such a lovely guy and she suspected it had taken a lot of courage for him to ask. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings. ‘I don’t get involved with people at work. It can make things too difficult if it goes wrong.’ She didn’t tell him about Mark because she assumed, like most people, that he already knew. She had thought they were always discreet but apparently their relationship was an open secret in the industry.
Pete nodded. ‘I agree. So let’s only “get involved”…’ he made speech marks in the air with his fingers, ‘when we’re not at work.’
Melissa laughed again. There was something so refreshing about him. And, more importantly, he couldn’t be more different to Mark. Maybe he was just what she needed right now. ‘OK.’
‘Great.’ Pete fixed her with his dark eyes, which were shining with mischief. ‘In that case, how about we skip dinner and just move straight to the sex bit?’
Melissa giggled. Something told her this one wasn’t going to be a one-night stand.
As soon as the meeting finished, she rang Sophie back. ‘Did you get my voicemail?’ Sophie was already speaking before Melissa could even say ‘hello’. Her voice sounded panicky, which was unlike her.
‘No. I was in a meeting. Why?’ She motioned to the others to go on ahead without her. ‘I’ll meet you back at the office,’ she mouthed.
‘Have you heard about Mark?’
The tone of Sophie’s voice instantly made Melissa’s stomach drop. ‘No. What about him?’
‘He’s been in a helicopter crash.’ She gave a loud sob. ‘Melissa, he’s not expected to survive…’
Melissa froze. It couldn’t be true. His show was running on TV at the moment. She and Pete had watched it in bed only the previous night. She remembered thinking how well he looked. ‘No…’ she whispered. ‘Not Mark… It can’t be right.’
‘I’m going to the hospital now. He’s at St Thomas’s. Will you come with me?’ Sophie was breathless, as if she was walking quickly. ‘Please, Melissa.’
Melissa hesitated. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘He’d want you there. I know he would.’ Sophie was emphatic. She wasn’t going to accept ‘no’ for an answer.
‘OK. I’ll see you there.’
To begin with, it was a struggle to get anywhere near him. While the press gathered outside the hospital, ghoulishly hoping for confirmation of his death, inside, various hangers-on jostled for position at his bedside.
‘Mark would laugh his head off at this, if he was awake to see it,’ Sophie told Melissa, as they watched yet another of Mark’s old conquests leaving with her hair and make-up done to perfection, ready for her close-up.
‘Well, she certainly doesn’t seem too distressed.’ Melissa’s lip curled in disgust.
‘You watch how quickly they get bored, if this drags on for any length of time.’
Melissa looked at her in horror. ‘Christ, Sophie, you make it sound as if you’re wishing him dead.’
Sophie shook her head wearily. ‘You know that’s not the case, Liss. I love Mark just as much as you do. I can’t imagine my life without him in it.’ She paused, as if composing herself. ‘But we need to be realistic about this.…’ She tailed off and her words hung in the air for a moment. ‘And think about it, there’s no way Mark would want to just survive. You know he wouldn’t. He’d want to be his old self…’ her voice dropped to a whisper, ‘or nothing at all.’
‘No,’ Melissa’s mouth set in a straight, determined line and she shook her head emphatically. ‘I’m not going to be realistic about anything.’ She glanced up at Mark, lying motionless as the machines keeping him alive beeped and whirred rhythmically. ‘Mark is not going to die, because I’m not going to let him.’
For the next couple of weeks, Sophie and Melissa barely left his bedside, but eventually, Sophie had to get back to work. ‘Someone needs to keep the company going,’ she told Melissa with a wry expression. ‘He’ll kill me when he gets back if I’ve let it slide.’
Melissa nodded and gave a tired smile. She was pleased that Sophie was now talking as if he was going to get better. As if he’d be going back to work soon. But Melissa was starting to lose hope. At the beginning, she’d been so sure that she could will him better if she was focused enough. But with every passing hour that he didn’t wake up, her certainty waivered a tiny bit.
‘I’m not so sure he’s going to make it, Pete,’ she cried one evening after a long day at the hospital. Pete wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. She loved that not only did he never moan about how much time she was spending at Mark’s bedside, he also never trotted out platitudes to make her feel better. Everyone knew Mark was unlikely to survive, so he just listened and nodded and supported her.
He had never once queried why she needed to be with Mark as much as she did. ‘I know how much you love him,’ he told her, when she apologized for never being at home these days. Melissa had reached up to kiss him. ‘I hope you also know how much I love you too.’
And it was true. She and Pete just worked. He was kind, he was thoughtful and he could always make her laugh, even when she thought her heart might be about to break. She had thought she would never love anyone after Mark but with each passing day, she fell more and more in love with Pete. There was a permanence to their relationship that she had never known before and she could see them being together for ever.
More weeks passed and soon everyone but Melissa and Sophie had become bored sitting by Mark’s bed, watching the hours tick by, as the machines around him continued with their robotic hisses and beeps. ‘He doesn’t look like him any more, does he?’ Melissa said as she met Sophie’s eye across his bed one evening.
Sophie shook her head sadly. ‘No. I just hope that when he wakes up, he’s still the same Mark we know and love.’ Melissa and Sophie tended to take it in turns to be optimistic, as it was too exhausting for one person to maintain it.
‘If he wakes up.’ Melissa turned to look at Mark, willing him to open his eyes. She had long since stopped kidding herself that it was all going to be fine but she hadn’t seen him in person for such a long time. She felt as if she needed to see those dark, velvety eyes smiling at her one more time, winking mischievously whenever he was up to no good.
She leaned forward so that her mouth was close to his ear. ‘Come on, Mark, wake up, you bastard! We can’t stay here for ever, you selfish git.’
Sophie grinned. ‘He’d like that. He really missed you, you know, when you left Merlin.’
Melissa raised her eyebrows. ‘He had a funny way of showing it. He seemed to be out with a different woman every night of the week. Not that many of them have stuck around.…’ She gestured to the empty room around them.
‘No, really.’ Sophie looked fondly at Mark. ‘I think he’s been pining for you. Especially since I told him you were all loved up with Pete.’
Melissa’s heart gave a little skip. ‘Really? What did he say?’
‘It wasn’t what he said, so much as the look on his face. He looked sad.’
‘But what did he say?’ Melissa persisted. She wanted to know.
Sophie sighed. ‘He said he was pleased for you. That you deserved to be happy. He said Pete was a very lucky man.’
Melissa’s heart sank. ‘That’s hardly proof of his undying love.’ She looked at Mark again. ‘He was probably glad to get rid of me.’
‘No.’
Sophie leapt out of her seat. ‘Was that you?’
‘No.’
Melissa shook her head, scarcely daring to breathe in case she was wrong. ‘No, it wasn’t me. It was him.’
They both leaned towards Mark’s face. ‘Mark, sweetheart.’ Melissa stroked his cheek gently. ‘Did you try to say something?’
Mark’s eyes fluttered open and he looked straight at her. Melissa tried to speak but she couldn’t. The lump in her throat grew.
‘Mark!’ Sophie said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘What were you trying to say?’
Melissa leaned further over, so that he could see her face more clearly. Mark opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if the effort was too much. Melissa picked up the glass of water by his bed and put the straw to his dry lips. Mark managed to take the smallest of sips, before his breath seemed to fail him. With an almighty effort, he opened his mouth again. ‘I love you,’ he mouthed, before his eyes fell shut once more.
‘Oh, isn’t this perfect for your mummy and daddy!’ Sophie planted a quick kiss on the top of Clementine’s baby-soft curls, as she stopped for a moment so that she could take in every detail of the tastefully decorated garden. A lush green lawn sloped down towards a cliff edge dotted with exotic trees and flowers, through which the Mediterranean sparkled azure blue in the sunshine. Rows of silver chairs had been laid out in front of a simple rose-strewn dais where they would make their vows and the scent of honeysuckle and clematis hung tantalizingly in the warm air. The whole effect was mesmerizing.
Sophie held on tightly to the baby in her arms, as she walked as carefully as she could in her high heels towards her seat in the front row. She had protested that Melissa’s mum, dad and half-sisters should be sitting there but Melissa had been adamant. ‘You have been more of a family to me than they have. I want you in the front row. All of you.’
Emily and Amy were already there as she arrived at her seat. Emily looked up and flashed her a nervous smile, reaching out to give Clementine’s chubby cheek a gentle stroke with her thumb as she did so. ‘You look beautiful, Soph.’
Sophie hesitated before taking Emily’s hand, still outstretched towards the baby, and squeezing it tightly. ‘So do you, Emily.’
It was true. Although the pain Emily had been through was still evident in her appearance, her beauty remained. Yes, there were deep lines around her big, dark, almond-shaped eyes and her once black, shiny hair was now almost entirely grey. But it suited her. Age suited her.
‘I’m so sorry, Sophie,’ she mouthed, shaking her head. ‘For everything.’
‘I know.’ Sophie kissed the top of Clementine’s head as she sat down beside Emily, spreading out the baby’s beautiful white silk dress. ‘Look, let’s not dwell on the past, especially not today, Em. Let’s think of it as a new beginning. If the last few years have taught us anything, it’s that life is short and precious.’ She glanced down at the baby. ‘Let’s not waste any more time with anger and recriminations.’
Emily nodded. ‘A new beginning,’ she repeated with a wistful smile.
‘So… we’re finally going to meet Michael, are we?’ Sophie said, deliberately changing the subject.
Emily’s smile widened. ‘Be gentle with him, won’t you?’ She turned her head and motioned towards the back of the garden. ‘He’s over there.’
Sophie followed her gaze towards a tall, slim man, dressed in a pale linen suit, with an expensive-looking white shirt that showed off his tanned chest underneath. With his floppy blond hair and bright blue eyes, he looked a lot like Anton. A younger, prettier version. ‘He’s gorgeous!’
Emily’s eyes shone proudly. ‘I know. I’m very lucky.’
‘He’s lucky too.’ It was going to take a long time to get their friendship completely back on track but after everything that had happened, Sophie had decided that life was just too short to hold on to the horrible, corrosive anger that was eating away at her from the inside.
She loved Emily and she missed her friendship too much to lose it. It would take time, but they would mend their relationship. The scars were still there but they were fading with every day that passed. Right at this moment, she was just happy that they were together.
And she was happy that Emily was gradually turning her own life around too. She had struggled, unsurprisingly, with severe depression after Jack’s illness. At one point, Jack had even had to come and live with them temporarily. But she had come through it and had used her experiences to write her first novel, which proved to be enough of a success to support her financially. Now she was busy writing a second novel and adapting the first into a screenplay for TV. Michael was the producer, which is how they had met.
‘I think this might be her!’ Amy stood as the string quartet struck up with the wedding march.
Sophie craned her neck to see past the rows of family and friends.
‘Isn’t it traditional for him to arrive first?’ Emily said.
Sophie laughed. ‘Melissa’s not really one for tradition. She said she wanted to beat him to the altar…’ She rolled her eyes affectionately.
Sure enough, Melissa appeared and Sophie’s eyes instantly filled with tears. Her dress was the one she had picked out all those years ago at Geneva’s place in LA when Sophie was getting married. It was strapless with a tiered lace skirt and would have looked awful on anybody but Melissa.
She was flanked on either side by Steve and Jack, both looking handsome and proud in their morning suits. Jack was so like Steve that it sometimes made Sophie catch her breath. She couldn’t understand how none of them had ever seen it before – it was so very obvious. He had had a tough couple of years but he had made a full recovery and looking at him now, no one would ever know that he had been ill. He and Steve had developed an incredibly close relationship and spent as much time as they could together, as if trying to make up for what Steve used to call ‘the lost years’.
Behind them, Emma and Megan held hands with Theo and George, all of them taking their roles very seriously, as they concentrated on walking in time to the music. Emma looked up and caught Sophie watching her, flashing her a wide, happy smile, the sun glinting on her brace. She was growing up into a lovely young woman and, although she always refused to accept it whenever anyone made a comment, she was the image of Sophie.
As they reached the end of the aisle, Melissa reached out to take the baby from Sophie’s arms. ‘I’m sorry.’ Sophie motioned to the black smudge of mascara that had dripped onto Clementine’s tiny, snow-white dress.
Melissa kissed the top of Clementine’s head and laughed. ‘You’re such a softie.’
Sophie returned to her seat, the tears still rolling down her cheeks. Amy leaned over and handed her a tissue, which she took gratefully and dabbed ineffectually at her eyes. ‘I think we might all need one of those…’ Emily whispered, as the music struck up again and everyone turned as one.
Mark made his way down the aisle, moving slowly and carefully, never once taking his eyes off Melissa, who was watching him with an expression of pure, unadulterated joy. As he reached her, she bent to kiss him and lowered Clementine onto his lap, where she happily snuggled into his chest. Mark reached out and took Melissa’s hand. ‘You look perfect,’ he told her, to the accompaniment of dozens of sniffs from the congregation. Later that evening, with the dancing in full swing and Mark holding court just as he always did, Sophie pulled Melissa to one side. ‘That was a perfect day, Melissa. I’m so happy for you.’
Melissa smiled and gave a contented sigh. ‘I’m so happy for myself!’ Her skin was glowing and her eyes were shining. Sophie thought she had never seen a more beautiful bride.
‘I got a message from Pete this morning…’ Melissa glanced towards Mark.
Sophie nodded. ‘I’m glad. What did he say?’
Melissa smiled fondly. ‘He said he had no doubt that I would look fat and ugly in my wedding dress and that he’d had a lucky escape.’
Sophie laughed. ‘He didn’t!’
Melissa nodded, grinning affectionately. ‘He did. It was perfect. A little bit of me will always love him, you know.’
‘I know.’ Sophie looked over at Mark, who noticed her watching him and gave her a wink, before continuing to regale the crowd around him with some outlandish story or other. ‘But old prince charming over there just edged it, didn’t he?’
‘Yes. He did.’ Melissa gazed at Mark. There was no mistaking the love she had for him. His accident had made him radically reassess his life and he had been begging Melissa to marry him ever since he first woke up. She had always refused, until she had Clementine, when she decided that maybe they should formalize their relationship after all. ‘I’m just wondering why I didn’t do this sooner.’
‘I was the same on my wedding day.’ Sophie smiled as she remembered how happy she had been on that day. They had just celebrated their fifth wedding anniversary, which seemed slightly ridiculous, as they had now been together for twenty-one years. ‘But I suppose it doesn’t really matter, as long as you’re happy and you’re together. Amy certainly has no plans to do it again.’
‘Where is Amy?’ Melissa glanced around the marquee. ‘And Emily?’
‘We’re here!’ they said in unison, emerging from the dance floor, looking flushed and breathless.
Melissa motioned to a passing waiter, who was instantly by her side with a tray of champagne. ‘I think we should have a toast,’ she said, handing each of them a glass. ‘What shall we drink to?’
Sophie looked at each of them in turn, seeing the story of their lives written in the lines and creases of their faces. But they were still here. Still strong. Still together. ‘I think we should drink to us,’ she said, lifting her glass. ‘To best friends for ever.’