Right Here Waiting for You: A brilliant laugh out loud romantic comedy

Right Here Waiting for You: A brilliant laugh out loud romantic comedy Rebecca Pugh ‘Perfect read for a lazy day in the sunshine’ bestselling author Christie Barlow‘It is hilariously good!’ Jess Bell‘The perfect read for a lazy afternoon’ ShaunWe used to be best friends…Magda used to be the girl everyone wanted to be – most likely to achieve her every wish. That is until suddenly her perfect life seems to be anything but!Sophia has never regretted her life, sure it isn’t perfect, but being a single mum to a daughter she loves is pretty great. Perhaps she never moved away from home, or got to live out her dreams, but what she has right now isn’t so bad.That is until an invitation to their school reunion arrives, throwing both their lives into a spin – because these two used to be friends and it might finally be time to face up to that one big mistake that happened all those years ago… We used to be best friends… Magda used to be the girl everyone wanted to be – most likely to achieve her every wish. That is until suddenly her perfect life seems to be anything but! Sophia has never regretted her life, sure it isn’t perfect, but being a single mum to a daughter she loves is pretty great. Perhaps she never moved away from home, or got to live out her dreams, but what she has right now isn’t so bad. That is until an invitation to their school reunion arrives, throwing both their lives into a spin – because these two used to be friends and it might finally be time to face up to that one big mistake that happened all those years ago… Praise for REBECCA PUGH (#ulink_41f26988-7b24-51b7-9966-9cd681463045) ‘a warm, heart-warming, enticing story.’ – Sophie, Reviewed the Book ‘I really loved this book from start to finish, I really didn’t want to put it down, it’s what a story should be, a lovely modern fairytale of a book.’ – Candy Hart ‘I loved this debut novel and found it to be a comforting and enjoyable read perfect for cosying up in front of a warm fire.’ – Sincerely Book Angel ‘It was entirely satisfying and heartfelt.’ – Paris Baker’s Book Nook ‘What I thought was boy meets girl is so not the case. There's romance, mystery, and heartbreak.’ – Bookaholic Babe Also available from Rebecca Pugh (#ulink_2b2889a4-7337-587f-9512-29b5f978d1e9) Return to Bluebell Hill A Home in Sunset Bay Down on Daffodil Lane Right Here Waiting for You Rebecca Pugh REBECCA PUGH is a twenty-four-year old writer from Shropshire. She signed her first two-book deal with HQ Digital UK back in 2014, and her debut novel ‘Return to Bluebell Hill’ was published in June the following year. Since then, she has written another three novels and is now working on her fifth. When Rebecca is not writing, she can usually be found reading, both of which are her greatest passions in life. Some of her favourite authors include Holly Martin, Cathy Bramley, Sarah Morgan and Jill Mansell. In Rebecca’s opinion, there is nothing as delicious as curling up with a good book, a cup of tea and a whole new fictional world to discover. There really isn’t enough time for all the books she plans to write and read, but she won’t let that put her off. Acknowledgements (#ulink_a131c9b4-2189-5edb-a08c-9f7400378e1e) I’d like to say a special thank you to everyone who has helped in the creation of this book. To the wonderful HQ Digital UK team, for believing in me and my work. To my utterly fantastic editor, Victoria Oundjian, for being there every single step of the way, cheering me on. To the book-bloggers and readers who have got in touch to say that you’ve enjoyed one of my books, and to share in the excitement with me. I adore you all and your enthusiasm cannot be matched. To my Mr W, who is the best motivator in the world, and our Bonnie, for keeping me company while I write. I am so grateful I get to share this journey with so many special people. There is a certain type of friendship that is capable of lasting a lifetime. I am lucky enough to have a few of them. Contents Cover (#ue44ab074-868e-558e-ab25-1ce47ba8aa43) Blurb (#uefb8c781-cec8-5df9-873a-95575059b05b) Praise (#ulink_a9b5b859-b817-517d-ab86-7d5a1410c84e) Book List (#ulink_72d84faa-6a43-53b1-93f2-7c5addfda831) Title Page (#ueacfa292-c96a-594e-8887-2955a88f893b) Author Bio (#uea94a439-c91e-5167-9732-f8cc59f6226e) Acknowledgements (#ulink_b8668503-f2bf-5637-afd9-cf9d0312962e) Dedication (#u878518ae-56d0-5f4b-8350-f1310528ba47) Chapter One (#ulink_9066b85a-543d-57df-8d84-c25f9e3819c6) Chapter Two (#ulink_ace32d03-0cc6-5637-b33c-9de01f771424) Chapter Three (#ulink_51c8b12a-3fe9-5286-b300-2368b9ee1b5d) Chapter Four (#ulink_8e24abc6-b6f2-5f96-95fa-d08afdfa449d) Chapter Five (#ulink_e07c66e7-40f9-5ce4-b48d-939f0a800230) Chapter Six (#ulink_89eb16b0-fb33-54f6-b4cf-63e09080b1d3) Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo) Extract (#litres_trial_promo) Copyright (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter One (#ulink_be04ae94-f274-522f-ad05-3a58b1d1b70f) Magda Crossley was seventeen years old when she discovered she could give herself an orgasm. She could remember it as if it had only happened yesterday when, in fact, over eleven years had passed. It had been a Friday night, and she’d been hanging out down by the harbour with the usual faces. She and Sophia had spent the night laughing and joking together while the lads had messed about just ahead of them, tackling each other and sharing cigarettes in a tipsy daze. Once the night had drawn to a close, Magda had stumbled through the short walk home and tumbled into bed. On a drunken whim, she’d decided to experiment with her body. The bedroom walls had spun as the cheap and colourful alcohol they’d all nabbed from their parents’ drinks cupboards rushed through her veins. Perhaps if she’d had no alcohol in her system, the discovery would never have been made, but in that moment of confidence and curiosity, Magda’s world suddenly took on a brand-new meaning. They’d done sex education in school, and they’d covered masturbation while she and the other girls sniggered behind their hands, but Magda had never been tempted to find out more until that night. The discovery of the orgasm and how it could make Magda feel was a revelation. In her mind, if a woman was capable of providing herself with such pleasure, then what the hell did she need a man for? The physical power she suddenly held over herself was indestructible and it gave her a completely new persona. No longer had she been the shy and timid one of the group. She became the most confident. The most brazen. The one the other girls began to look up to. They had no idea what had sparked off this new side to their friend, but they liked it, and so did Magda. She knew no male could give her anything she couldn’t give herself and it made her feel ten feet tall. Afterwards, jelly-legged, with her knickers around her ankles, she’d gazed at her bedroom ceiling in the darkness and wondered why on earth she’d spent so much of her teenage life lusting after Tom Archer. All the local girls had a thing for him. It had been something of a trend back then, to have a crush on Tom. If you didn’t, there was obviously something wrong with you. It was sad really, especially for Tom’s mates, because none of them ever got a look in. They were gangly and immature compared to their leader, who seemed to ooze confidence, intelligence and sexiness. A deep grunt brought Magda from out of her memories and back into the present day. Remembering where she was and what she was doing, she risked a quick glance at the head bobbing up and down between her legs and shifted slightly on the upholstered chaise longue. As grand and luxurious as the hotel room and its furnishings were, she was beginning to get uncomfortable, and couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he was going to be. The thing was, he wasn’t really in the right area. The poor man was licking at an ineffective part of her woo-woo but seemed to think he was the bee’s knees, putting his heart and soul into it. Really going for it. But alas, with his frantically roaming tongue nowhere near her clitoris, it was barely having an effect at all. He’d been down there for quite some time now, and due to her lack of enjoyment and inability to focus, her mind had wandered, resulting in her not being in the mood for a sexy time at all. Not that she’d even been in the mood in the first place, not even when she’d settled in the bar downstairs in her tight red dress with the hem deliberately raised, showing off plenty of thigh. He’d practically been salivating when he’d arrived and the realisation that she was the face behind username DevilishlyDaring123 had dawned. He hadn’t been able to believe his sheer luck, and she knew he hadn’t been expecting someone like her. It might have sounded vain but it was true. She was a sexy woman, she wasn’t going to deny it, and she enjoyed seeing men appreciate that. It hadn’t taken long for her to persuade him up to the room, and it hadn’t taken long for her to tempt him out of his clothes either. He’d stripped himself down and made a move almost as soon as they’d stepped through the door. She stared in boredom at the ceiling as the barrage on her vagina continued down below, and managed to muster up a few groans and moans of desire that she hoped sounded more genuine than they were. She forced her eyes shut, and at the same time tried to force herself to focus on the moment, to catch and roll with the sensations, but it was no use. He clearly didn’t have a bloody clue what he was doing, and Magda was one hundred per cent confident she could do a better job herself. Maybe she should have drawn him a diagram before they’d got down to the nitty-gritty, to show him what was what beforehand. If anything, whatever he was trying to achieve down there had become an annoyance rather than a pleasure. She didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop though. He’d seemed so confident downstairs in the bar. This was a real, true-to-life example of a man who could talk the talk but not walk the walk. It didn’t take long for Magda to decide she was going to fake it, just like everything else in her life, mostly in the hope that doing so would make his departure arrive faster, and that wasn’t a euphemism. She was tired of his presence now. The evening hadn’t made her feel any better about herself, which was what she’d originally been hoping for. It had been the same with the others too. It occurred to her then that she sounded like the kind of woman she had once upon a time despised. One of those women who found themselves unable to stick to just the one man. But there was a story behind it all, a reason for her actions. A pathetic one but one which existed all the same. Like a serial killer had a motive, she had one too, although she wasn’t planning to murder this man. God, no! She simply wanted him to get off her vagina, get dressed and leave. ‘Oh yes,’ she hissed. Magda spread her legs further apart and gritted her teeth. ‘Keep going. I’m so close now. Don’t stop.’ She performed perfectly, ensuring her voice held the right amount of breathlessness that desire often evoked. Sadly, desire had completely left the building. Magda was half tempted to get up, go to the window and wave goodbye to desire as it hopped in its car to race as far away from this place as possible. ‘I am so close.’ She writhed a little as she ran fingers through hair, tugging and tightening her grip. Her acting had the desired effect and, with added gusto, he worked harder and faster, his tongue flicking manically (again, in the wrong place). Unable to take it a second longer, Magda arched her back and let out a scream of desire. She opened her mouth wide as the animalistic sound came flooding out and filled the room. She tugged harder on his hair and then rolled her body as if the sensations were crashing over her. She was even able to make her legs shake as they normally would if orgasm had been achieved. It was a performance worthy of ten stars, she thought. ‘God, that was amazing.’ Much to Magda’s relief, he finally removed his wet mouth from her nether regions and wiped it with the back of his hand. Magda sat up and looked at him with faux admiration, pretending to regain her lost breath. ‘It seems your hands aren’t the only thing you’re talented with.’ Before they’d come up to the room, he’d told her that he was an up-and-coming artist. Not that it even mattered. She couldn’t have cared less about what he did outside of their rendezvous. He could have been anybody. He’d looked attractive in the photos he’d sent in the lead-up to their meeting, or those few that showed his face. He was very fond of his penis because it had featured in the images he’d sent more than once, erect and standing to attention with his fingers wrapped around it. Imagine this inside you, he’d written. Magda had done exactly that but it hadn’t affected her in the slightest. Another penis attached to another man. Sex had become meaningless in her efforts to get even. ‘I’m shaking.’ Magda held her hands out in front of her and they both watched as they trembled, as if a measure of how well he’d done. Again, it was entirely fake, but he seemed pleased with himself and his efforts and stood up to his full height. Six feet something. He towered over her. His penis hung limp in front of her face and she tried her best to avert her gaze from where it was dangling between his legs. Then again, she’d had it in her mouth an hour or so ago, wet with her saliva, so now was hardly the time to act coy. She wished he would put it away though. For some reason, the unbidden thought of him, wind milling his penis round and round in front of her, flashed into her mind and she had to force herself not to snort at the scene playing out in her imagination. ‘I would have stayed down there all night if you’d asked me to,’ he said, moving his hips from left to right and watching his penis as it moved. Realising what he meant, Magda managed to stop herself from physically recoiling from the offer. Just the thought of his mouth getting anywhere near her lady garden for a second longer made her vagina want to shrivel in on itself. Already, it felt sore from his relentless tongue-probing. ‘Mind if I use the bathroom?’ He hitched a thumb in that direction and smiled a confident smile. ‘Go ahead.’ Once he’d closed the door behind himself, Magda stood and pulled on the silk kimono she’d brought along with her. It did little to warm her up. Feeling underwhelmed and deflated, not to mention physically and emotionally exhausted from her performance, she looked around the room and wondered what to do with herself now that it was all over. With no other ideas surfacing, she poured herself a glass of champagne from the complimentary bottle and wandered with it towards the window. It was hard to make out anything in the darkness that had fallen, but she knew from when she’d arrived earlier that the grounds of the hotel were spectacular, perfectly pruned and delicately peppered with ornate statues and stunning flower gardens she could get lost in for days. She couldn’t help thinking that they should be, considering the price she’d paid for an overnight stay with breakfast included. There were other features like the pool and the gym, but she’d be making no use of those. It was a quick in-and-out job, so to speak, and tomorrow morning she’d be gone as if she’d never been there at all. As beautiful as it was, the acres of land surrounding the hotel made her feel isolated and, not for the first time, frighteningly alone. She sipped from the glass as her mind wandered towards old friends and older places. She felt hopeless, and the emotion washed over her, growing stronger as she remembered all those wild and fanciful dreams she’d had as a teenager. Life had turned out to be so very different from how she’d imagined and, with a sigh, she turned abruptly from the window, as if doing so would cut off that train of thought instantly. When had she veered off the right path and stumbled down this one? Had there been a specific point in which everything had changed? If so, she found it impossible to pinpoint the exact moment. She’d been happy once. She was sure of it. Her memories told her so, and the sad thing was, she was beginning to have more faith in them than in the present day. She’d stopped living for the now and, more and more often, found herself wanting to rewind time so she could do it all again, have the chance to do it all differently. She often fantasised about it and wondered where she’d be now if she’d made different choices. Magda shuddered as a memory of her Aunty Cassandra surfaced, who she’d found snogging one of her dad’s work friends in the upstairs bathroom during a Christmas party when she’d been little. Her aunt’s husband had been downstairs in the kitchen, asking after his wife, and the whole time Aunt Cassandra had been upstairs, rolling a condom over another man’s willy. Even back then, Magda had known it was wrong and felt disgusted. But all these years later, wasn’t she doing the exact same thing? Wasn’t she just as bad? She needed the emotions and memories to recede. She wanted them to return to the little box in the back of her mind where she kept them locked up tight. It hurt her to admit it, but alcohol was becoming something she was turning to more and more often. It helped to a certain extent, or she pretended it did, but the morning after an evening spent indulging in an alcoholic binge full of hope, she usually realised that her problems remained, only now with a banging head to go alongside them. It was becoming a vicious and never-ending cycle she could see no escape from. The sound of a ringing phone broke the silence. Magda turned and eyed it from across the room, watching as the screen flashed. Only when it had stopped ringing did she choose to approach it, but she already knew whose name would be on the missed call notification. Her assumption was proven correct when she snatched up the handset with a shaking hand and saw that the caller was him. She switched it to silent and dropped it in her bag. Out of sight, out of mind. Probably. ‘Listen. I’m going to shoot off. You don’t mind, do you? Only I’ve got a meeting first thing in the morning that I can’t afford to miss. The thing is, I’d really like to spend the rest of the night here with you, but you know how it is.’ ‘That’s fine. I understand.’ Magda tried to rein in her enthusiasm over his finally leaving. She wanted nothing more than to climb into the big soft bed and close her eyes. She wanted him gone and she wanted to forget this whole thing had happened, forget that all the other things had happened too. The men. The sex. They’d all been attempts to make herself feel better but had only ever slapped her back in the face. She was not the woman she had become. She looked at the man standing before her, buttoning up his shirt. She didn’t fail to notice how his eyes travelled down the length of her body. She tugged the kimono tighter around herself but it did little to hide the lengths of creamy skin that remained on display. Stupid, useless thing. He shrugged on his tailored suit-jacket, having managed to tear his eyes away from her petite and curvy frame. ‘Tonight’s been amazing.’ He walked towards Magda and stroked the side of her face, the movement slow and gentle, as if she were something precious. It had been a long time since someone had made her feel like that. The gesture was so tender she could have cried. ‘I’d really like to see you again.’ Magda took a step back to create a gap between them. ‘I’ll call you,’ she muttered, although she had no intention of doing so. She didn’t plan to see him again. She looked at the floor and waited for him to leave. When he made no move to go, she glanced back up and said, ‘For the record, I enjoyed tonight too.’ She at least owed him that. She didn’t want him to walk out of there feeling worthless. As clich?d as it sounded, it wasn’t him, it was her. ‘Goodbye, then.’ He turned and left the room, leaving Magda staring at the closed door. She climbed into bed soon after that, her mind full of the past as she fell asleep cocooned within the duvet. ‘We’re always going to be mates, aren’t we? I mean, sometimes I think about where we’ll be in the years to come, and I just can’t imagine not having you there next to me. It’d be so sad, wouldn’t it? If we ended up in completely different places, living completely different lives? I don’t want that to ever happen, Magda.’ Sophia eyed the rest of the group up ahead and laughed as they attempted to perform handstands on the sand. It was cold and dark, and the smell of the sea blew around them in the breeze. ‘Course that’s not going to happen. Don’t be stupid. Me and you will always be together. You know that. We’ve already got it all planned, haven’t we? I mean, we’ve planned to try and become pregnant at the same time so our kids can grow up together. It’s mad, really.’ Magda laughed and nudged Sophia’s shoulder with her own. They were sat side by side. ‘But don’t worry, we’ll never be apart. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.’ ‘Come on, you two!’ Ben called from up ahead, waving at them. ‘Show us what you’ve got!’ ‘Best friends for ever?’ Sophia held her little finger out towards Magda. ‘Best friends for ever.’ Magda hooked her own pinky finger around Sophia’s and they grinned at each other before leaping to their feet and joining the rest of the gang further out, laughing as they ran hand in hand across the sand. Chapter Two (#ulink_0225357e-837f-5fcd-bb66-004c66e6bf3d) Sophia Good stared listlessly at the boiling kettle. Was it her imagination or was it taking longer than usual? Finally, once she was able to, she poured the steaming water into her cup of coffee granules and sugar and stirred it into the magical concoction known as coffee that would hopefully put some life back into her tired body. From the lounge, the sound of early-morning cartoons babbled away. It had become the soundtrack to Sophia’s mornings, if not her entire life. Esther’s giggle floated through to the kitchen, mingling with a theme tune Sophia hummed along to without even having to think about it. She knew them all, she’d heard them that many times. With her first cup of coffee of the day placed beside her on the small end table, Sophia sat down and eyed the back of her daughter’s head from across the room. ‘Come on then. Let’s get ready for a lovely day at school.’ Sophia clapped her hands in a businesslike manner and picked up the hairbrush she’d brought through from the kitchen. Esther didn’t move. Sophia glared at the smiley-faced cartoon characters on-screen who seemed to do a much better job of capturing and keeping her daughter’s attention than she ever could. ‘Esther? Come on, sweetheart. We haven’t got long until the school bell rings and you’re not even out of your pyjamas yet.’ Her attempts were again met with silence. She was beginning to reach the end of her tether just lately. It seemed her daughter didn’t want to listen to a thing she said. Sophia was trying her best to remain upbeat and positive, but the cheery act she often put on was beginning to wear thin. She was tired, drained of all energy, and would have given anything for a full night’s sleep or just a hot bath in peace. Esther only seemed to have two moods. She would either cling to her mother’s side like a limpet or, as was the case this morning, simply refuse to acknowledge Sophia was even there. Sophia rubbed at her eyes, still crusty with sleep. ‘Come on, darling. I need to brush your hair and get you into your uniform.’ She held up the small burgundy cardigan and made it perform a little dance in the air. She wasn’t sure why. Perhaps in the hopes that a dancing cardigan would entice her daughter to put the bloody thing on. ‘Five more minutes,’ whined Esther, still glued to the TV screen. Sophia closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘No, Esther. I need you to come and get dressed right now, otherwise you’re going to be late again, and that will be the second time this week. Do you think Mrs Harvey is going to be happy if you’re late?’ Esther glanced over her shoulder but only for a second. The thought of upsetting her favourite teacher seemed to be the only thing with the power to shift her from her cross-legged position on the carpet. But it wouldn’t do to rush so Esther dawdled lazily towards her mother while performing an exaggerated yawn. ‘Good. Now we’re getting somewhere. Turn around so I can quickly brush your hair.’ Sophia looked at the tangled mess and gulped. ‘This might hurt, sweetheart, but I’ll try to be as gentle as I can, okay?’ Eventually, Sophia managed to brush Esther’s hair into a high ponytail and patted her on the bottom as her daughter put on her shoes. Sophia gulped down the last dregs of her coffee, wishing for an instant refill, before quickly brushing her own hair and nipping to the toilet. Afterwards, she tugged on her coat and prepared to leave, with Esther dragging her feet behind her. ‘See?’ Sophia sang, as she stepped out of the front door and locked it behind them. She deposited the keys in her coat pocket and felt triumphant that they wouldn’t be late after all. ‘That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now you’ll be on time and Mrs Harvey will be very happy. Come on then, let’s get down the road and into… Oh, my God…’ Sophia stumbled backwards and grabbed the fence that separated their garden from next door’s. ‘Esther, what have you done?’ Esther grinned. ‘It’s make-up.’ She twirled on the spot and fluttered her lashes. If Sophia hadn’t been so shocked she would have laughed but, as it was, she wasn’t amused in the slightest. ‘Do you like it?’ asked Esther, ignoring her mother’s stricken expression. Sophia gathered herself and closed her eyes. She tried to keep her voice level. ‘Where did you find the make-up, Esther?’ Her eyes remained shut as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Sophia had taken to shutting her make-up bag away on the top shelf of her wardrobe because this wasn’t the first time Esther had painted her face with her mother’s make-up. How on earth had she managed to get hold of it this time? ‘In your bedroom,’ replied Esther, looking pleased with herself. ‘I got the stool and climbed up. Why do you put it so high? It’s silly.’ ‘I can’t believe it. I take my eyes off you for five seconds just so I can have a wee and you’ve managed to do this to yourself. You know we’re going to be late now, don’t you? What is that?’ She bent down, licked the tip of her thumb and tried to rub away the vivid red smudges from her daughter’s eyelids. The rubbing only seemed to make it worse. ‘Have you… have you put lipstick on your eyelids?’ she whispered, leaning down to get a closer look. ‘It looks nice,’ Esther said stubbornly, turning away from Sophia’s close inspection. She frowned fiercely and her little eyebrows furrowed, as if she’d just been insulted. ‘Absolutely un-bloody-believable. We’re going to have to go back inside and try to wash this lot off your face now, aren’t we?’ ‘Mum,’ Esther squeaked. ‘Swearing is naughty. That’s what you said. Bloody is a bad word.’ Sophia hustled her daughter back into the house as beads of sweat began to form beneath her too-long fringe. ‘I know and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, it just slipped out. Please don’t repeat it because you’re right, it’s a naughty word. Come on, up the stairs and into the bathroom, please. I’d better give the school a ring to let them know what’s happened. Wait for me, Esther, and don’t touch anything! Do you understand me? Not a single thing. I’ll be five minutes.’ As Esther bounded up the stairs, filled with glee at her makeover, Sophia held her mobile to her ear and waited for Rosie, the school receptionist, to answer. Thankfully, Rosie was understanding and even found the tale rather funny, tittering to herself. ‘You would think it’s funny,’ Sophia huffed once the call had ended. She trudged her way up the stairs feeling exhausted. It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. ‘It’s not you who has to bloody put up with it.’ Although Sophia had managed to scrub most of the make-up off her daughter’s face, by the time they left the house for the second time that morning, a faint redness bloomed on and above Esther’s eyelids where the lipstick remained and refused to budge. Sophia ushered her book-bag-holding, cardigan-wearing daughter up the road, past the local swimming centre and over the zebra crossing until the school gates came into view and they hurried through them. She felt ready to collapse by the time she delivered Esther to her classroom, red-cheeked and eyes streaming from the cold wind whistling outside. Today was her day off from her part-time job in the post office, and she couldn’t wait to get back home and into the warmth. How was it possible to feel like she’d been defeated by the day already? Once she was back home, Sophia scooped up the small pile of envelopes from off the carpet and took them through to the kitchen. While the kettle boiled, she hung her coat up in the hallway and returned to open the post. It was the usual stuff. Bills. Tacky fast-food flyers. A leaflet with an offer to clean her windows for a fantastic price. Just as she was about to abandon the post, the last envelope caught her eye and Sophia paused as she looked down at it in her hands. The envelope was pearlescent. She turned it this way and that, watching how it shone, before sliding a finger beneath the seal. As her eyes scanned the invitation, Sophia went dizzy. Her stomach dropped and she sat down in the nearest chair to read it again, knowing she could read it a million times over and it would still announce the same thing. A reunion. A school reunion, right here in Worthington Green. Immediately, her mind swarmed with memories of her childhood and teenage years, of the people she’d grown up with, and one person in particular, the thought of whom made Sophia’s stomach clench. The same person who had made it so hard for Sophia to make and keep friends as an adult because she found it so damned impossible to trust anyone. The thought of seeing that face was enough to have all her old insecurities come rushing to the surface, along with a certain sense of sadness that felt crushing in its strength. She’d happily moved on since all of that but this invitation was dragging memories back up and she could hardly bear it. Sophia tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat but it wouldn’t budge. She stood to open the window and remained beside it for a moment or two to relish the feel of the cool air on her face. She closed her eyes and steadied herself against the wall. The invite and the envelope lay on the kitchen table and Sophia stared at them, unable to comprehend the possibility of bumping into the woman who had ruined everything. How long had it been since they’d spoken their last words to each other? They’d been eighteen at the time. It had all happened so quickly, Sophia had barely had time to register what was going on. But she hadn’t forgotten what that woman had done. The deceit. The betrayal. How could the arrival of such a simple thing shake her world up so much? She felt uneasy now, unable to carry on with her plans for the rest of the day. Knowing she had no choice but to carry on because there was housework to attend to, Sophia snatched up the invite and its envelope and shoved both behind the breadbin. Out of sight, out of mind. Probably. ‘Do you think you’re in love with Tom Archer?’ Sophia was curling her hair in the mirror when Magda asked the question. Magda was painting her toenails on the bedroom carpet, eyes focused on the brush. ‘Maybe,’ Sophia shrugged. ‘Who knows?’ She spun round and looked at Magda, wondering how it was possible for her best friend not to think Tom was the sexiest lad in the world. ‘What I do know is that whenever he’s near me, I get this weird flutter in my chest. My heart starts to beat really, really fast and my legs feel like jelly. Is that stupid?’ Magda shook her head quickly. ‘No, I don’t think so. It sounds like you do really like him though.’ ‘I do,’ nodded Sophia. And she meant it. Tom Archer had been her one true desire since before she could remember. She still couldn’t understand why he liked her when he could have his pick of any of the girls in town. She settled down beside Magda on the floor and perused the different colours of nail varnish before picking up a hot pink. ‘He’s actually asked me out. He wants me to go round to his and watch some movies.’ Her stomach flipped and she bit into her bottom lip at the thought of being alone with him. She saw Magda smile. ‘And are you going to go?’ Sophia wavered. On the one hand, she wanted nothing more than to be alone with him, but on the other, it would eat into her time with Magda, and she didn’t want her friend worrying about being replaced. ‘Maybe,’ she said in the end. ‘I haven’t decided yet.’ Chapter Three (#ulink_5f0c854a-a0be-5b41-9f61-39ea25a3d517) Arriving home after her night in the hotel, Magda pulled up in the driveway and switched off the engine. Rather than heading inside straight away, she sat and stared at the exterior of the house, mentally building herself up to take that step. Greg would no doubt be in his home office, pretending to work but secretly texting and emailing whichever woman of the moment he was trying to get into bed. He was a private accountant, bringing in most of their income, while Magda was a content writer for an online magazine, focusing on fashion and beauty. She adored to write, and it was possibly one of the only things she had ever been good at. She didn’t earn anywhere near as much money as Greg did, but she didn’t care. She enjoyed it. Greg liked to hide away in his office. Magda wasn’t stupid and she wasn’t sure why he thought she was. She was clever. Clever enough to put together the pieces of evidence Greg left behind him like a trail of breadcrumbs and reach the nasty conclusion that he’d been having numerous affairs behind her back. She wasn’t entirely sure how long it had been going on for, but she didn’t think it really made any difference. ‘I’m back,’ she called into the empty quietness. Her voice echoed around the hall. She heard a noise from behind the door of his study. ‘There you are,’ Greg said once he’d stepped into the hall. ‘Good. I tried to ring you last night.’ Magda forced a smile. ‘Yes. Sorry I didn’t answer. I was invited out to a spa day at the last minute and I had such a good time I decided to stay over. I ended up drinking a bit too much at the bar so driving back wasn’t an option by then.’ Greg narrowed his eyes and spoke his next words in an infuriatingly condescending manner. ‘Yes, you seem to be getting a bit fond of the drink lately. I’d slow down a bit if I were you.’ ‘I know, and I will.’ She felt like shrinking beneath his stare. She wanted to tell him that he was the reason she was drinking so much, that it was because of him and his lies that she felt drinking was the only option she had. ‘Good. Dinner tonight? I thought we could go out and grab a bite to eat.’ Everything he said was a command. Anything that sounded like a question was one of the rhetorical kind that warranted no answer from his wife. ‘I’ve booked us a table for eight. I’d better get back to work.’ Greg spun round, strode back up the hall and disappeared back into his study. Left to her own devices, Magda tugged her suitcase up the stairs and pushed open the door to her bedroom. They’d long since stopped sharing a bed, but Magda preferred it that way. How could she possibly get a good night’s sleeping beside such a lying bastard? * It was while chopping vegetables in the kitchen the next afternoon that she came across the envelope, propped in the post holder along with the other household bills and letters. Magda wiped her hands down the front of her blouse and picked it out. Once she’d opened it and read the invitation, inviting her to a school reunion back in Worthington Green where she’d grown up, she had to take a seat to gather herself. She’d been such a fool to give that life up and, standing there in the kitchen, sweat beading on her forehead, sweltering over a hot stove, making a meal she didn’t even like, for people she didn’t like either, she felt like the most stupid person in the world. For a moment, Magda imagined she was back by the harbour in Worthington Green, feeling the cool spray of the sea on her flushed and burning cheeks. It would be such a blessed, sweet relief. ‘They should be here soon,’ Greg announced as he strode into the kitchen. He was referring to his parents, who had invited themselves round for dinner – a habit of theirs. Magda wouldn’t have minded the visits if Greg’s parents were people she enjoyed spending time with. As it was, she couldn’t stand being around them so the thought of spending the evening sitting around the table with them was one that filled her stomach with a feeling of dread. The small heels of Greg’s shiny black shoes clicked across the marble tiles with every step he took. ‘You’re not eating dinner dressed like that, are you?’ His eyes travelled down the length of her body. ‘No,’ Magda murmured, ‘of course not. I’ll go and sort myself out now. I was just checking on the vegetables one last time.’ ‘What’s that?’ Greg nodded towards the invitation in Magda’s hand. ‘Oh, just something about the car insurance. Nothing important.’ She hastily folded the invitation back into its envelope and hurried out of the kitchen. ‘I’ll just go and get dressed. I shouldn’t be too long.’ After reading the invite a couple more times in the safety of her bedroom, Magda couldn’t shake the memories of Worthington Green away. The place remained at the forefront of her mind throughout the evening, while Greg’s father droned on about business and economics. Greg’s mother, Patricia, sat silently and watched Magda from across the table with her lips tightly pursed. It was no secret that Patricia thought her son could have done better but Magda was past caring. She stared down at the food on her plate, silently willing the evening to hurry up and be over with. She couldn’t stand to be with these people a second longer. Chapter Four (#ulink_c9054085-3399-5dd3-975b-764777075dcb) ‘I reckon they’ll get married when they’re older.’ Michael nodded through the doorway to where Esther and Harry were sitting side by side on the carpet in the lounge, positioned in front of the television. Michael’s comment reminded Sophia of something she’d once talked about with an old friend of hers, but she batted the memory away and forced herself to focus on the cooking instead. It was Sunday and Sophia’s home was slightly noisier than usual, with two extra guests. She’d invited her good friend Michael and his son, Harry, round, to join her and Esther for a roast dinner, and it felt nice to have company. Esther had told Harry to sit down beside her and was having fun making him watch all her favourite movies. Sophia had hardly heard a peep from them since. ‘Now wouldn’t that be nice? They’d be true childhood sweethearts, wouldn’t they?’ Sophia’s face was melting from the heat. The kitchen window was steaming up and she swung round to open it. Fresh air rushed inside, bringing with it cool relief. Michael was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, watching the children through the doorway. He’d made numerous offers to help with the cooking but Sophia had turned each one of them down. There wasn’t much longer to go now, thank God. Any longer and there’d be nothing left of her besides a puddle on the floor. ‘How’s Harry doing?’ asked Sophia. ‘Is he sleeping better now?’ ‘Yeah, seems to be.’ Michael ran his hands through his brown hair and shrugged, but Sophia knew it meant more than that to him. ‘No more nightmares, and he hasn’t woken up in the middle of the night for a while either. He stays in his own bed right the way through until morning, which is definitely progress. And he hasn’t had a bed-wetting episode for such a long time. He’s like a different kid these days.’ Sophia smiled. She was pleased for him. For both of them. Michael had had a tough year since splitting up with his ex-girlfriend, Tanya, Harry’s mum. Michael had discovered she was having an affair with one of his best mates who he worked with as a labourer. After everything had blown apart and Tanya had packed up and left, Michael had struggled with suddenly becoming a single father, so he’d turned to Sophia for help and guidance. Not feeling like much of an inspiration in the parenting department, Sophia had tried to help him as best she could. Over the months following the separation, he’d muddled through, figuring out new ways of doing things with his son without Tanya by his side. Now, father and son seemed to be in a routine that worked perfectly for both. Harry went to bed on time, he allowed Michael to bath him without fuss, and the nightmares that had been plaguing him and causing him to cry out in the night had finally stopped. Alongside this, Michael was still able to work as a labourer, only now part-time rather than full-time. He didn’t mind losing the hours if it meant he could spend more time bonding with and caring for his son. It seemed the worst was over and it showed. Michael was happier, calmer and more at peace with life, himself, and the hand he’d been dealt. ‘Have you heard from her? Tanya?’ Sophia peered across the room at him. ‘Not a peep. I’m not expecting to hear from her, to be honest. The last I heard, she and Tommo were moving abroad together, Spain or somewhere like that. Good riddance, I say.’ He swallowed a mouthful of his drink before meeting Sophia’s gaze. ‘What?’ he asked, when he realised she’d been watching him. ‘Nothing,’ she shrugged, turning back to the pots and pans bubbling away. ‘I’m just happy for you. For both of you. It’s nice to see after how tough it was before. It’s like you’re finally free of it all and it shows.’ ‘Thanks, Sophia. I really appreciate it, and all your help. It’s been hard work but I feel like we’re both in a good place now. A better place. I feel more than capable of being Harry’s father and of doing a good job of it.’ ‘You do an excellent job.’ She meant every word. Anyone who didn’t know Michael personally would be more than likely to take one look at his appearance and judge him by it. Because of the physical work, he had a bulky and muscly physique. He often towered over people, and it could be intimidating. But inside, beneath all of that, he was kind, hard-working, and totally capable of love, despite not believing so himself. Just after Tanya had left, taking Michael’s heart with her, he’d turned up on Sophia’s doorstep with Harry. She’d hurried them both inside from the cold and, once Harry had joined Esther in the lounge, she’d asked Michael what was wrong. His whisper had been almost inaudible. ‘What if I can’t love him? What if I wasn’t made to be a father? What if I do it all wrong and end up ruining him?’ It had crushed her heart to see him so broken down and with so little faith in himself. But now, radiating confidence and happiness, he was a pure joy to behold. Tanya hadn’t deserved such a man, Sophia had always thought as much, and she didn’t deserve Harry either. He was such a sweet little boy and finally seemed at ease with the adjustments to his life. He also adored Esther, and they were very good friends. Sophia would normally meet Michael and Harry outside the school gates in the morning and the little boy’s face would light up when he spotted Esther running up the path to greet him. They’d grown to be such good friends in the time they’d known each other, which had been about four years now. Michael and Tanya had been a firm couple when they’d first arrived in the town. Sophia had often seen them dropping Harry off at school together in the mornings. It wasn’t until Tanya stopped showing up at the school drop-offs that Michael had started to speak to her, which had made Sophia wonder if Tanya was the controlling type, not allowing Michael any female friends. He’d sidled up to her one morning with Harry and struck up a conversation about how lovely the school was, saying Harry had mentioned Esther at home and how much he liked her. It hadn’t taken long for the conversations to become a regular thing, and it became clear to Sophia that Michael wanted someone to talk to. He could be found standing by himself usually, not getting involved with the other parents chatting among themselves. But one morning, Michael had arrived and invited her to have a coffee with him in the caf? in the high street. At first, he had danced around the topic of his and Tanya’s relationship, as if afraid of getting too close to it, and Sophia had felt a bit bewildered by the whole thing, wondering what he was trying to get at, and if it had anything to do with Tanya’s disappearance from the playground. She hadn’t said anything though. She wanted Michael to tell her about what was going on only if he felt he wanted to. It hadn’t taken long for him to fully open up about it and, once he did, that had been the beginning of the end for the couple. After that, their meetings in the coffee shop were mostly focused around updates on Tanya and what she’d been getting up to behind Michael’s back. It had gone from bad to worse for Michael as he tried to come to terms with the reality of it all, but Sophia had tried to be there for him as much as she possibly could. That had been over a year ago, and a lot of progress had been made since then. ‘Have you thought any more about the school reunion?’ Michael asked as he took another sip of tea. He eyed her over the rim of the mug. ‘No, not really,’ replied Sophia, her back to him as she turned the food down slightly. She’d told Michael about the invitation earlier in the week but wished she hadn’t now. He was badgering her incessantly and it was beginning to drive her mad, mostly because she hadn’t yet made up her mind about whether she would be attending or not. ‘I think it could be fun and it would be lovely to see some old faces if they decided to show up, but… Oh, I don’t know. School wasn’t exactly the best time for me.’ ‘Everyone says your schooldays are the best days of your life but I don’t think it applies to everyone. Mine were shit too, but don’t you think it would be interesting to see how your old friends turned out? Find out whether any of them became famous or, I don’t know, became millionaires?’ Sophia laughed. ‘I suppose so, although I doubt, if any of them had become millionaires, they’d come back to little old Worthington Green for a school reunion. It’s hardly the place to be for the rich and famous.’ ‘I still think you should go,’ Michael pressed. ‘We can go together, if you feel you want someone there with you? I don’t mind tagging along. I can be that plus one you mentioned.’ Sophia gave the vegetables a poke with a fork while she gave the whole thing some more thought. It was kind of Michael to want to support her but he had no idea what had happened back then. It was more than simply going to a reunion and enjoying herself. It made her nervous and sent wings of panic beating in her chest. ‘Thanks for the offer, Michael. Just give me a little more time to think about it and I’ll let you know, okay?’ She didn’t want to tell him why she was so reluctant to say yes. The truth was, she was terrified of coming face-to-face with the past. The thought of bumping into her was enough to make Sophia want to shred the invitation to pieces. But then, on the other hand, it might be fun. It would be a night out, which was something she hadn’t had in a long time. Sophia would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about the girl who had helped shape some part of her younger years in the time that had passed; hadn’t wondered what she was up to, whether she was married or had any children. One time, Sophia had become so curious about the woman, she’d searched for her name on social media, just to see what the results would bring. It turned out the answer to that was nothing. No profiles, no pages. Zilch. Once dinner was served, the four of them crowded around the small table and tucked in. Harry and Esther were delighted to be seated beside each other and, for the first time in a long time, Sophia was pleased to see her daughter actually eating some vegetables, Harry joining in too. Michael couldn’t compliment the food enough. She had to admit, she had done a good job. The chicken was beautifully prepared, the roast potatoes buttery and soft. She was pleased, and thrilled to be seated with her favourite people in the world. Afterwards, nursing full stomachs, they moved back in front of the television until late afternoon, when, stretching his arms above his head, Michael announced it was time for them to leave. Sophia stood beside the front door as they put on their shoes and prepared to get going. ‘The pleasure was all mine,’ she smiled, giving Harry’s shoulder a little squeeze. Esther was there too, watching grumpily as Harry put on his coat and Michael zipped it up with ease. ‘And you’ll think some more about the reunion?’ urged Michael, turning to her as he opened the front door. ‘I promise.’ Sophia waved them off. The following morning, she met up with Michael for coffee in their usual haunt. She spotted him huddled in the corner with a book in his hands, head dipped low as he read and occasionally sipping at his drink. ‘Sounds grizzly.’ She nodded at the book in his hands. ‘Don’t you ever fancy dipping into a soppy romance novel?’ She thought of the numerous romance reads that were stacked beside her bedside table back home. She had to admit, she’d gone a bit mad on them recently. She adored the sexual tension between hero and heroine and the inevitable ‘something’ that would keep them apart. She’d often found herself wishing for something like that in real life. ‘No, thank you. It’s all nonsense, isn’t it?’ Michael laughed as he cornered his page and Sophia tried not to wince at the barbaric action. Why did people do that? Why didn’t he just use a bloody bookmark? ‘Have you thought any more about the reunion?’ he asked. ‘I don’t know,’ she mumbled, hiding behind her mug. She was worried about telling people she was still here, living in town, having not achieved much in life at all. To her, being a mother, as tough as it often was, was a huge deal, but would her old friends look at it in the same away? Or would they snigger behind their hands at how little Sophia Good’s life was? ‘Oh, come on, Sophia!’ urged Michael. ‘It’ll be good fun. You don’t get out much, and neither do I. It’s the perfect opportunity. I’ll even hold your hand if you’re that nervous about it.’ He leant forward across the table, eyes fixed on her face. ‘You have nothing to worry about. It’s just a school reunion where you’ll see old faces, people will ask what you’ve been up to, and then you’ll probably all get smashed. Maybe even have a little boogie on the dance floor. Now there’s an offer you can’t turn down, surely?’ ‘Oh, fine. You win.’ Sophia laughed and Michael punched the air in triumph. He was right though. Above everything else, it would be fun, and as for the other things she was worrying about? She would just have to face them if they happened, but the more she thought about it, the less likely it seemed that she would turn up. She was probably halfway across the world, sipping cocktails and living the high life. What on earth would she want to come back to Worthington Green for? ‘I’ll get in touch with Hannah,’ said Sophia. ‘She’s my babysitter, although I haven’t spoken to her in a while. I’ll see if she’ll look after Esther for the night.’ ‘Do you think she’d mind looking after Harry too?’ asked Michael eagerly. ‘I’m sure she wouldn’t mind at all. She loves taking care of the little ones and she’s great with them, as long as they behave themselves, mind.’ ‘Ask her and let me know. It doesn’t matter if not; I’m sure I could find someone myself.’ ‘I will.’ Sophia scooped up some froth from the top of her cappuccino and popped the spoon into her mouth. ‘What?’ she laughed, when she spotted Michael watching her. His gaze lingered on her lips. ‘Nothing. You’ve just got a bit of… Here, let me get it.’ Michael leant across the table and used the tip of a finger to dab away a bubble of froth. They looked at each other awkwardly. ‘Sorted,’ he said quietly. Sophia cleared her throat. ‘Thanks.’ ‘So, that’s a definite yes then?’ ‘Yes. It’s a definite yes.’ Sophia’s stomach was slowly beginning to tighten with tension. Gulping down more coffee, she tried her best to ignore it. ‘I suppose now I have to find something nice to wear, don’t I? I don’t think jeans and a T-shirt will cut it.’ ‘Nope. I refuse to let you show up in jeans and a T-shirt. That’s completely against the rules and you know it.’ ‘I suppose it’s about time I wore something else besides these old things.’ ‘It’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it. Just make sure you RSVP so we’re definitely down on the list. Do it today, as soon as you’re home. Man, I’m looking forward to this.’ ‘I’ll do it!’ she laughed. ‘As soon as I get home.’ ‘Good. Anyway, I’ve got exciting news. As of last night, I’m back in the dating game. I signed myself up to one of those dating sites. I’ve decided it’s time to move on and take back the reins of my love life.’ And just like that, Sophia’s laughter from seconds before turned to silence. She blinked at him, unable to think of a suitable reply. Good for you? Well done, Michael? You’ll be snapped up in a heartbeat? She knew that last one would certainly be true. ‘Oh… Wow, that’s… Are you sure you’re ready for that? I mean, it hasn’t really been all that long since you broke up with Tanya. You don’t feel it’s too soon?’ She was speaking so hurriedly, it was a wonder Michael could understand her. ‘Sorry,’ she laughed, shaking her head. ‘It’s surprising, that’s all. I’m very happy for you.’ Michael cocked a brow. ‘Yeah, I can see where you’re coming from but it has been a while now. Don’t you think so?’ He shrugged and turned his attention to the window. People passed by the caf?, lost in their own conversations. Michael watched them. ‘I suppose I’m just lonely. I love Harry, more than anything else in the world. You know that. But it’s nothing to do with that side of things. It’s more the… you know… physical side.’ He looked back at her then. ‘Surely you know what I’m referring to?’ ‘Oh, right. Yes, I know what you mean now.’ She wrapped her arms around herself and turned her attention to the outside world too. She couldn’t ignore the jealousy she was feeling. She wanted to be happy for him but it was hard when she felt the way she did. For such a long time, she’d hoped that, when Michael finally decided to try his hand at love again, it would be her he would turn to. After all, hadn’t she been the one who was there in his time of need? Or was it completely selfish of her to think he owed her something in return for simply being a friend to him? Hope was such a tricky thing. ‘Well, don’t you miss that?’ pressed Michael. ‘The physical side of it? Someone to hold on to at night?’ ‘I guess I do sometimes, but not hugely.’ Michael nodded. ‘I guess everyone’s different. Still, it’s kind of exciting. Putting myself out there again. Just hope I don’t make a fool of myself.’ Sophia sighed. What an idiot he was for thinking he could ever do that. Any woman would be lucky to spend an evening with this man by their side. Not only was he kind, considerate and funny, but he was handsome and didn’t even realise it, which only made him more appealing. If getting back out there was what he wanted to do, who was she to try and stop him? ‘Michael, I’m happy for you. If this is what you want to do, then I say go for it. Who knows where it will lead? Life’s all about taking chances, isn’t it? Anyway, I’d better get going. I’ve got a few things waiting to be dealt with back at the house before my shift later. It really is amazing how much washing one little girl can pile up.’ Sophia gulped down the last of her coffee and got up. ‘We’ll catch up soon, okay? Let me know how the dating site goes.’ They shared a brief hug before Sophia turned and left the caf?. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to keep up with his dating progress, but they were friends first and foremost, so she felt it necessary to be there for support if he needed it. She hurried down the street with her heart thudding, feeling so incredibly foolish as she blinked her tears away. Stupid, stupid, stupid. To think that she even had a chance! She should have been quicker. She should have told him how she felt. But she hadn’t wanted to rush things after how terrible his relationship had ended up being with Tanya. And now it was too late. ‘This one, or this one?’ Sophia held up two tops. ‘The left one, definitely. So how are you feeling about tonight? Are you nervous?’ ‘I don’t know.’ Sophia began to undress, climbing into a pair of jeans and tugging the top that Magda had chosen for her over her head. ‘It’s not like anything major is going to happen. We’re just going to hang out, that’s all.’ ‘Yeah, right,’ Magda snorted. ‘I know for a fact that Tom Archer is only after one thing from you tonight, and it doesn’t include watching movies.’ Sophia blushed and laughed nervously. ‘Don’t be stupid, he’s not like that. He’s nice. He’s different to the other boys we know. You’ve even said that yourself.’ Magda laughed. ‘Just be careful, okay? That’s all I’m saying, and if anything does happen, please use protection.’ ‘Bloody hell! You sound like my mother,’ Sophia smiled. ‘So, what do you think?’ She turned and looked down at herself before looking back up at Magda. ‘You look beautiful, as always.’ ‘Thanks, Magda. I’ll share all the juicy details with you tomorrow at break.’ ‘Can’t wait. And remember, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!’ Chapter Five (#ulink_a34b76be-85b2-52ba-a395-a4bdf658eb70) ‘I’m going to be going away for a couple of weeks.’ ‘Oh?’ Greg raised his head in interest at the other end of the dining table. ‘And where are you going?’ ‘I’m going to visit my father. I’m going to go back to Worthington Green.’ Greg’s eyes narrowed. ‘Your father? I thought you and he didn’t speak any more.’ It was because of Greg that Magda’s relationship with her father had withered away to nothing. ‘We don’t, but life is too short, isn’t it? I’d like to see him again. I have no other family and I feel as though I’ve let my relationship with my father slip away. I miss him.’ ‘Nonsense. You have my family,’ Greg said simply, as if that should have been enough for her. ‘I’m talking about my family,’ Magda challenged, raising her voice slightly. She could hardly call Greg’s parents her ‘family’. There was no warmth between them, no relationship or bond. ‘I shan’t be gone too long. Perhaps two weeks, maybe more if things go well. It all depends, I suppose.’ ‘Okay. Fine. When will you be leaving?’ ‘As soon as I can.’ ‘And what shall I tell people?’ Magda fought the urge to fling her plate at his head. Instead, she exhaled slowly. ‘Tell them I’ve gone to visit my family. Honestly, Greg, you’d think it was completely out of the ordinary, the way you go on. It’s not a big deal. People go home and visit their families all the time. It’s not alien to do so and I’ve no idea why you think it is.’ ‘It is for you,’ he replied. He cocked his head to the side and eyed her. With a tight smile, she rose from the table. ‘I’m going to have an early night. Goodnight.’ She felt him watching her as she left the room, but refused to look back at him. * The very moment she left the house a couple of days later, Magda felt the weight lift from her shoulders as if it were a physical thing. As she drove away from the place she laughably called ‘home’, she watched it grow smaller and smaller in the rear-view mirror and finally felt able to breathe again. It was a blessed relief to get away, although what she was heading towards would only bring the anxiety back tenfold when she arrived at her next destination. No matter. She was prepared for it. Kind of. All she knew was that she was thankful to get away for a little while. Away from Greg and the lonely, lonely walls of that bloody house. If Magda was completely honest, she was using the invitation to the school reunion as a ticket out of the miserable life she led, but if only it was as simple as that. This wasn’t just a trip home to see her father. It was so much more. Magda had wondered, too, if Tom Archer was still around, working in that chip shop he’d spent so much of his time in. She remembered how many nights she and her friends had spent in that place back then. They must have stank of the smell of it when they left but they hadn’t cared. The memory of cans of pop fizzed on Magda’s tongue and the tang of the salty sausages lined the inside of her mouth. She hadn’t enjoyed a chip shop dinner in years. Greg didn’t allow any sort of fast food at home. Perhaps that’s what she would do this evening once she arrived in Worthington Green, as an act of defiance. Fuck you and your fast-food ban, Greg. I will absolutely stuff my face with food that is bad for me and there’s not a damn thing you’ll be able to do about it. She knew her father would appreciate it. He’d always enjoyed one of the chip shop’s steak and kidney pies, cradled on his lap while he sat in his favourite armchair and chomped away in front of the TV. He was a creature of habit, although it hadn’t always been that way. Only since Helena, his wife and Magda’s mother, had passed away. Before that, he’d been a businessman, overseeing the running of the fishing boats down at the harbour. He’d had a passion then. A purpose. A reason to spring out of bed every morning and get stuck into the day ahead. That had all changed though, and so had he. There was still a while to go before she arrived, so Magda turned her thoughts to her childhood, which seemed fitting, seeing as her destination was where most of her favourite memories had been created, if not all of them. She’d had a wonderful early childhood, there was no doubt about it. She and her parents hadn’t lived the most lavish of lifestyles but they hadn’t cared. They’d had everything they needed and that was all that had mattered. A bed to sleep in at night, warm food on the table and plenty of love to go around. It was odd that she’d turned into such a lover of material things as she’d grown older. That had changed now, but she had been very materialistic when she’d first met Greg and saw what sort of lifestyle he was offering. Maybe those expensive things she’d been such a fan of had only been to fill the empty spaces in her life as the years had worn on. Her mother had grown fresh vegetables and herbs in their small back garden and Magda could remember running along after her in the summer, with a woven basket to collect the final produce once her mother had plucked them from the ground. Potatoes, carrots, tomatoes and runner beans had often found their way into their dinners for the rest of the week. It had always felt comforting, knowing that the ingredients in their meals had come from their very own garden, tended to lovingly by Helena. Magda had always loved the dishes served up at dinner time too. Hearty stews and roast dinners had often graced their table, filling the kitchen with the smell of being at home, of being loved and wanted and taken care of. God, it had been such a long, long time since she’d felt that way. A stray tear had escaped during her thoughts, and Magda sniffed and hurriedly brushed it away. It wouldn’t do to cry. After all, where had it got her in the past? She knew about crying your heart out. She’d done plenty of that with her back against the locked bathroom door of her en suite. There’d been no need to lock it really. Greg wouldn’t have come looking for her in there. He was oblivious to her upset ninety-nine per cent of the time, and the one per cent when he did notice something was wrong, he chose to ignore it anyway. Stupid, stupid man. For the umpteenth time, Magda felt relief wash over her at being able to spend some time away from him. It would do her the world of good. But what followed was dread at the thought of going back to him afterwards. Well, she just wouldn’t think about that yet. She had plenty of time before her return, so until then, she’d push Greg completely out of her thoughts and focus on what was waiting for her in Worthington Green instead. Already she felt more like her old self, which was always the way when they spent time apart, as if being away from Greg allowed enough room for her original personality to come back. It was odd, how much she’d lost, when back then she’d only been able to see the things she’d gain, which, in hindsight, hadn’t turned out to be a lot at all. Turning the volume of the car radio up to drown out her negative thoughts, she hummed along to the song playing and focused on the road. She made a few stops on the journey for coffee and snacks, just to keep her going until, finally, she passed by sights that looked all too familiar. An old windmill she’d been fascinated by as a little girl whenever her father had driven past, conjuring up a fairy-tale quality that had held Magda spellbound. There were the old factories too, now empty and unused and a bit of an eyesore on the otherwise picturesque landscape. With the sky the blue of a watercolour painting, Magda felt her heart lift at the prospect of being here again. She had missed it more than she cared to admit. The car continued to trundle along, slower now she’d entered the town of Worthington Green, and Magda gawked through the window at her surroundings. The familiar streets and pavements and shops and caf?s had hardly changed at all. In fact, it was as if she’d never been away. Soon enough, she was heading down the winding road that led towards the harbour and the tired old homes that were some of the very first to have been built there. As she passed the row of houses that led to her father’s, she wondered about the people inside them. Were they still the same neighbours she’d known growing up? Or had those people moved on with their lives and set up home somewhere far away from this place? There was a strange sort of feeling taking over her. Almost as if time had stopped during her absence and only now that she’d returned were the hands of the clock beginning to tick-tock again. ‘I can’t believe you’re no longer a virgin. What was it like? Did it hurt?’ Sophia bit her lip. ‘I don’t know how to explain it, really. It was like… nothing I’ve ever felt before. It did hurt a bit, but it’s supposed to during your first time, isn’t it? He was so gentle though.’ Magda squashed down the urge to ask more. She didn’t want to seem too interested in it. But she was. She wanted to know every single tiny detail of what it was like to have sex with Tom Archer. She looked at Sophia, tried to spot if there was any difference in her best friend now that she’d done the deed, but there was nothing obvious that had changed. She looked a bit glowy in the face, but that was expected. ‘I can’t believe it. You’re a proper grown-up woman now.’ Sophia laughed. ‘Hardly. He still makes me go all giggly when he kisses my neck.’ She snorted at herself. ‘I guess it’ll be your turn next. We need to find you a man, Magda Crossley.’ ‘I’m more than happy to wait for the right one to come along,’ she replied. ‘Until then, I can just live vicariously through you.’ ‘Of course you can,’ sang Sophia, dancing around the room. She was in the throes of young love, and Magda couldn’t ignore the pang of jealousy she felt. Chapter Six (#ulink_d2f36889-1a9d-5790-8f6f-92c90bcb149f) The door to the salon closed behind Sophia as she stepped inside. She smiled at Cath when the stylist looked up from her appointment book. Situated behind her desk, she closed the thick black book with a shriek and flung her hands in the air in delighted surprise. The noise seemed awfully loud in the quiet salon and Sophia couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Hi, Cath. How are you?’ She made her way towards the desk, feeling warm inside at Cath’s familiar face, which was beaming at her. ‘Sophia! It’s been too long, doll.’ Cath, who had known Sophia since she was a young girl, rushed out from behind the desk, lunged towards her and enveloped her in a massive hug before taking a step back to frown at Sophia’s hair. ‘Far too long, it seems.’ She didn’t look impressed, and lifted a strand of hair before eyeing the wispy ends as if they were about to bite her. Sophia felt an old memory begin to resurface. ‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ Sophia looked at the two boxes of hair dye in her hands. They’d got them from the chemist’s on the way home from school, and now they were in Sophia’s bedroom, about to open the boxes and get started. ‘Of course it’s a good idea!’ Magda bounced on the spot. ‘Look how cool they are! We’ll look like a couple of pop stars when we go to school tomorrow morning. Everyone will want to copy us.’ Magda winked. ‘But won’t we get sent home or something? I mean, when I said hair dye, I meant normal colours. But I’ve got pillar-box red, and you’re about to turn your hair bloody purple!’ ‘Oh, Sophia. Stop worrying. This is exciting. Don’t you want to stand out? We’re going to look ace. The girls will be so jealous of us.’ Sophia eyed the box in her hand. ‘Hmm…’ ‘Right. That’s it. No more time to think about it. We’re doing this right now.’ Magda tugged on her hand and pulled her out of her bedroom and down the hallway to the bathroom. Magda shut and locked the door behind them. ‘Who’s going first? Me or you?’ Suffice to say, their moment of glory when they’d got into school the next day had lasted only until they’d stepped into their classroom. The teacher had gasped and they’d both been sent home, not allowed to return until their hair was back to normal. They’d laughed about that for ages. Sophia swallowed. It was that bloody invitation. It was bringing it all back to her. She focused on Cath. ‘It’s not that bad, is it?’ She suddenly felt self-conscious and wished she’d made the appointment to have her hair sorted out sooner. It was the same old story though. She’d intended to, but had just never found the time or forgotten. ‘Nothing your old Aunty Cathy can’t sort out. It’s a good job we’re not busy. Come on, take a seat and let’s sort you out, girl.’ Cath led her to an empty seat and, as she began to snip away with her scissors, asked Sophia how her parents were. ‘I tell you, I couldn’t believe it when I heard they’d left. They’d always seemed pretty settled to me, your folks. Happy and that. I was quite surprised when they went through with it. I suppose I thought they’d pull out at the last minute but they didn’t. Off they went. I was so shocked.’ ‘You and me both,’ said Sophia. ‘But they’re both very happy in their new home and that’s all that matters, isn’t it? I think you can grow tired of a place if you’re there for too long, and perhaps that’s how they were beginning to feel here. They lived here for forty odd years so it’s understandable in a way.’ She shrugged. ‘Still, they’re not too far away for a visit off me and Esther. I think they like having that distance between us, you know? We’re not in each other’s pockets but they’re still there, if we need them.’ ‘I understand. I suppose it’s more of an occasion when you and Esther go to see them, rather than popping in and out all the time. Lift your head up for me, sweetheart. There we go, perfect.’ Cath snipped some more. ‘And what about you, Sophia? Is there a man on the scene yet? Anyone special in your life?’ ‘Not yet,’ replied Sophia. ‘Honestly, I don’t feel like there’s room in my life for a man.’ Her thoughts turned to Michael. ‘What with working at the post office and looking after Esther, there’s barely time for me to just be me, never mind adding a man into the mix. Not sure how I’d find the time to entertain one.’ ‘Well, that’s no good, is it? What about that online dating malarkey? Have you thought about giving that a go? It’s quick and simple. Thinking about it, I could set you up on a date with my grandson Simon. He’s about the same age as you. Good lad too. He’s on the lookout for a woman, tired of the single life now. He works full-time, takes good care of himself, and tells a cracking joke or two. What do you reckon?’ Sophia was trying her best not to cringe. Being set up on a date by Cath was a bit… much, wasn’t it? Simon sounded nice but she didn’t know him. He could be anyone. Still, Cath was a genuine woman and if she said he was an okay guy then Sophia trusted that he was. What was she even thinking of here? ‘I’m not too sure… Like I said, what with Esther and work, it’s tricky too organise anything that…’ ‘Nonsense. You know as well as I do that you’re making excuses. Why? You’re a gorgeous, young, independent woman, Sophia. I bet, if you put yourself out there, you’d have a line of men waiting to take you out. Come on, give it a whirl. See what happens. I promise you he’s nothing out of the ordinary. Just a genuinely nice guy who I know would enjoy your company. Go on, make my grandson’s day!’ As her name suggested, Sophia Good was a good person at heart, and now she felt as if she couldn’t turn down Cath’s offer without insulting her in some way. She wriggled uncomfortably in the seat and chewed her bottom lip. She caught Cath’s persuasive gaze in the mirror and felt herself cave immediately. ‘Okay. Fine. Let’s do it.’ Perhaps it was time to add a little excitement to her days, after all? It would be nice to have something to look forward to. ‘Really?’ Cath waved her arms in the air in celebration. ‘Fantastic! Oh, he’ll be chuffed to bits, and wait till I tell him what a cracker you are. He won’t be able to believe his flipping luck. Once we’re done here, I’ll take your phone number and text it across to him.’ Cath continued cutting Sophia’s hair while wearing a massive, almost manic, grin and Sophia wondered what on earth she had just let herself in for. She’d only popped into the salon for a quick cut to tidy herself up a bit. Now, thanks to her inability to say no to people, she’d be leaving with a date lined up for some time in the very near future with a man she had never even met. * By the time she’d dropped Esther off at school the following morning, Sophia had already heard from Simon. He seemed eager to meet her and had been texting her non-stop ever since the first message had arrived the previous evening while Sophia had been cooking Esther’s dinner in the kitchen. She’d frowned at the unknown number when it had popped up on-screen, until he’d signed the message off with a friendly ‘Simon x’. The conversation had flowed easily between them since, and Sophia was enjoying chatting to someone new and getting to know him. Simon was thirty-one and worked at a call centre full-time. He’d said he couldn’t wait to take her out and was nothing but kind and complimentary, but the thought of having to meet him face-to-face and find something to talk about while sitting opposite him sent nerves raging in her stomach, and she wished, not for the first time, that she’d turned down Cath’s offer as soon as the kind woman had made it. Now Simon had her number, Sophia knew it would be almost impossible to get him to delete it. And alongside all those dating worries was Michael, and what he’d think, and what he’d say. Part of Sophia, the stupid romantic part that still believed in ridiculous fairy tales and non-existent happy-ever-afters, imagined that the thought of her going on a date would make Michael jealous, but then the rational part of her mind kicked in and she saw sense once again. After all, he’d been pushing her to dip her toe into the world of dating recently, simply because he was being brave enough to do it himself and wanted her to be brave too. So he wouldn’t be jealous. If anything, he’d be happy for her. So, why did she feel so miserable since he’d announced he was venturing into the world of online dating? Why did she feel jealous? It wasn’t like she’d ever made him aware of her feelings. She’d kept it all inside, telling herself she was simply waiting for the right moment to arrive, but the thing was, the right moment had probably passed her by and now she’d gone and stuffed the whole thing up. Once her morning shift at the post office had finished, Sophia headed home. She needed to find something to wear for the fast-approaching reunion. Just a week to go, so she was hoping next-day delivery was an option. With her legs tucked beneath her and a hot cup of coffee at her side, she eyed the items on-screen, but she wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for. A couple of hours passed, leading Sophia nicely into early afternoon as she went from one retail site to the next, trying and failing to imagine herself in any of the dresses that caught her eye. Just when she was about to give up, she paused and looked twice. On the screen was a simple yet gorgeous floor-length, backless black dress. She eyed it in contemplative silence for a few seconds, wondering whether she’d be able to pull it off. She wasn’t sure she’d ever worn anything like it before. It was classy. It was sexy without revealing too much. Not too expensive either, so Sophia decided to go for it, and once she’d added a pair of black stilettos to her basket, along with a sparkly black clutch, she proceeded to the checkout with a sense of accomplishment. * The next morning, Sophia spotted Michael waiting for her at the school gates. They walked together to the caf? once free of their kids. Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/rebecca-pugh/right-here-waiting-for-you-a-brilliant-laugh-out-loud-romanti/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. 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