by Jade Winters
‘Hey, country bumpkin. How’re you getting on down there?’ Lee said, trying his best to impersonate a farmer and failing miserably.
‘I’m having a full-on nightmare, truth be told,’ Sophie said as she dropped onto the sofa and sprawled her legs out in front of her.
There was an unmistakeable sigh from the other end of the phone.
‘Why? What’s happened now. You can’t have upset anyone yet; you’ve only been there three days!’
‘Harsh, Lee, very harsh.’
‘Sorry, I’ve only just got up. I had a great night last night.’
Sophie glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost one-thirty p.m.
‘I met this gorgeous bloke on Grindr, we went out for a few drinks in a club and we came back here and we f—’
‘Too much information, Lee. Your active sex life and my complete lack of one are out of bounds. I rang you for help, not for you to tell me about your conquests.’
‘Oh, right.’ The abruptness of the reply came as no surprise to Sophie. Lee did like to brag about his ‘conquests’ and from what she could tell, he was rarely short of company if he wanted it. ‘So, come on then, out with it. What’s happened?’
‘She’s here.’
‘Who’s there?’ Lee asked, then his voice upped in pitch. ‘Alison?’
‘No, not Alison. Amber.’
‘Amber?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Who the hell is Amber?’
‘You know. Amber.’
‘I don’t know anyone called Amber, Soph.’
‘I told you about her.’ Sophie could feel her frustration beginning to rise. She had a story to tell and needed to tell it, but Lee was simply being obstinate.
‘Did you?’
‘Yes. The first weekend you moved in, when we had a drink.’
‘Did we? I can remember us having a couple of glasses but after that my mind’s a blank.’
When she thought back to that weekend, Sophie did seem to remember him falling asleep, but her own recollection of events was somewhat on the hazy side too.
Bloody red wine.
‘Well, I went to school with her.’
‘Right. And…?’
‘And she was my first.’
‘Your first?’ There was a short delay which Sophie patiently waited through without having to spell it out in words of one syllable. ‘Ohhh, you mean the first woman you slept with? That could be embarrassing, but unless you fell out and told her you never wanted to see her again, or you had your wicked way with her and never called her again, I don’t see what the issue is.’
‘No. She wasn’t the first woman I slept with. She was the first woman I kissed.’ Sophie would quite willingly have strangled Lee at that point, but she needed someone to talk to. She needed someone to listen to the dilemma inside her then tell her what to do next, or at least offer some constructive proposals because the idea of running away from Alison and the aftermath of her letter, had been out of the frying pan into the fire disastrous so far.
‘Kissed?’ Lee said. ‘As in kissed properly?’
‘Yes. She was the first girl I kissed, and that confirmed what I’d thought, no knew, for a long time. That I was gay. And I bottled it, Lee. I cut her out and just kept pretending to everyone I was straight. I used to catch her watching me when I was putting on the act. I was shallow and didn’t want the other kids to shun me. They were my friends. It must have broken Amber’s heart, but I just couldn’t do it back then.’
There was silence on the other end of the line, and for a moment Sophie wondered if Lee had just hung up in frustration, but eventually he spoke again.
‘What do you want to do about it, Sophie?’
Christ, this is serious now, he called me by name.
‘I don’t know. That’s why I rang you. I just needed to talk.’
‘Do you still like her?’
Sophie paused, a voice at the back of her mind screaming ‘Yes’ so loud she couldn’t ignore it, but that wasn’t the foremost thing on her mind.
‘I want to apologise first off. Me vanishing, and the way I acted were unforgiveable, I know, but I want her to forgive me if she can. I’d feel better about it if she knew why I did what I did.’
‘It might not make her feel any better though. And anyway, how d’you know she even cares. A teenage snog isn’t something she’s probably thought about in years.’
Sophie considered it for a moment. Was he right? Was she wanting to rectify her past behaviour for entirely selfish reasons? Maybe. Maybe not though. The look in Amber’s eyes when they saw each other again was unmistakable. She’s still hurting, I can tell.
After all, Sophie had seen the same sadness in her own reflection.
Amber still has unresolved feelings and the only way to resolve them, is to talk to her.
‘There’s only one way to find out,’ Sophie said, feeling a little bit more in control. ‘Thanks for listening.’
‘It’s what I’m here for. Oh, and before I forget, there’s a letter here for you from Alison. She put her return address on the back of the envelope. She has terrible handwriting, doesn’t she?’
Out in the hallway the doorbell rang.
‘Yeah, she does. Look, I haven’t got time to deal with that now. Just stick it on the side and I’ll look at it when I get back.’
Lee’s voice softened a little. ‘You sure you don’t want me to read it out to you?’
Sophie coughed then laughed. ‘No, you’re fine. Just put it somewhere safe.’ The doorbell chimed again. ‘Look, Lee, I gotta go, someone’s at the door. Speak soon. Bye.’
‘Yeah, bye,’ she heard quietly as she took the phone from her ear and cut the call. The doorbell rang again.
‘Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, I’m coming,’ Sophie got to her feet and opened the door. ‘You’d better not be flogging double glazing.’
‘Hi. Sophie?’
Sophie gazed at the woman standing on her doorstep looking at her expectantly.
‘Yeah.’
‘It’s Helen. Helen Worth.’ Helen held her hands by the side of her head as if to frame her face.
The name jangled a great big church bell in Sophie’s mind. She widened her eyes and smiled broadly. ‘Helen! My God, I’d never have recognised you. You look fantastic.’
And she did. She was smartly dressed, her hair was perfectly coiffed, and she had a full face of makeup. The picture of solid, middle-class respectability.
Sophie ran a hand over her hair self-consciously and pulled her ponytail a bit tighter while she thought about the black leggings, plain T-shirt, and no make-up she had on.
Regardless, she pulled Helen in for a quick embrace.
‘I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time,’ Helen said, drawing back.
‘Well, I just got in from doing a shop—’
‘Oh good, so you’ve got time for a chat? Maggie, you remember her, she had the biggest boobs in the class.’
‘How could I forget?’
‘Well, Maggie saw you in town earlier and messaged me, so I thought it would be great to catch up. It’s been what? At least ten years,’ Helen said with a perfect smile.
‘Yeah, at least.’ Sophie was flustered. Here she was trying to hide out from the rest of the world and the rest of the bloody world already knew where she was. ‘Come in.’
‘That would be lovely,’ Helen said as she was already through the door.
‘Second door on the left is the living room,’ Sophie said in her best hostess voice as she followed Helen down the hallway.
An hour later, after backhanded insults about the décor, the quality of the instant coffee, a sympathetic shake of her head when Sophie admitted she was unmarried and had failed to produce even a single offspring, Helen finally got down to business.
‘Well, as great as it’s been catching up with you again, now for the real reason I’m here.’ Helen clasped her hands together. ‘It’s about the school reunion. I’m in the organising committee
you see, so it’s down to me to track down people who haven’t replied and do a bit of arm-twisting. I’d really love you to come, Sophie. You were always the life and soul back at school and, to be honest, some of the other people have become a bit, well, stuffy.’
Sophie groaned inwardly as she took in the perfectly stuffy Helen in front of her and wondered how bad the others must be.
‘Will you come?’ Helen asked.
‘Well—’ Sophie got out before Helen jumped in again.
‘If you’re worried about a date, I can help you out with that too. Do you remember Peter? Peter Powell? I’m sure he’d help you out?’
Octopus Pete wants to help out? I bet he does.
‘Okay. Look, I’ll come.’
Helen clapped her hands enthusiastically until Sophie signalled for her to stop.
‘But I don’t need you to arrange a date for me. I think I’ll manage that myself.’
Helen smiled brightly. ‘Brilliant. I do have one last favour to ask.’
Sophie narrowed her eyes slightly. ‘Yes?’ She drew out the word.
‘Well, Maggie said you were talking to another woman. That wouldn’t have been Amber would it? Amber Downing? I know you two were friends at school. Only I wrote to her but haven’t heard back.’
‘She’s been living in New York—’
‘New York,’ Helen almost squealed. ‘I love America. Oh my, New York, how glamorous. I can’t wait to talk to her.’
Sophie wondered for just a moment if Amber would ever forgive her for sending the Spanish Inquisition to her door. Things were bad enough already without imposing Helen on her. Then an idea sprang into her mind.
‘I tell you what, why don’t you leave Amber to me. Her dad’s not been well recently. I’ll talk to her then let you know if she’s coming. I haven’t got anything else to do, and you must be really busy what with doing all the organising and looking after the kids,’ she said, not so gently stroking her swollen ego.
Helen instantly clapped again. ‘Fantastic! Let’s swap numbers, then you can let me know.’
Sophie felt slightly unnerved that Helen would have her phone number forever, but she couldn’t say she didn’t have a phone when it was in her hand in front of her, so she acquiesced.
Ten minutes later, after she’d ushered Helen out of the door and poured herself a glass of wine, she mentally thanked Helen for giving her the opportunity to make contact with Amber again, even if it was under false pretences.
Sophie knocked back the wine.
As plans go, this one’s a winner.
Chapter Eight
‘Was that Dad?’ Amber called through from the kitchen as she heard her mum end the call that had just come in. She’d finally managed to squeeze the dishes from a gargantuan lunch her mum had rustled up into the dishwasher, and was leaning on the worktop, allowing her overly compressed lungs from bending over to regain some much-needed oxygen into her bloodstream.
‘Yes. He said the doctor is finally allowing him to come home, so I need to collect him pronto before he has a relapse and ends up in there for another week. He said the food has driven him crazy and if he has to hear the man in the next bed grunting and farting any longer, the next place I’ll be visiting him is prison.’
Her mum’s voice grew louder as she spoke, then she appeared in the kitchen. ‘He always has been the most awful patient. If he gets so much as a sniffle, it’s all I can do not to go and visit your Aunt Liz until his cold’s gone, and you know how much I can’t stand that woman.’
Amber laughed, prompting her mum to stop slipping into her jacket and look over at her.
‘Are you okay? You’ve been very quiet since you came home from town.’
Amber smiled. ‘No, I’m fine. I’ve just got stuff on my mind, that’s all. Work stuff.’
‘Oh, well, as long as you’re sure. Right,’ her mum said, ‘I’d better be off, or his lordship will be cranky as anything by the time I get him home.’
‘Drive carefully. Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? I don’t mind.’
‘No. You stay here and take it easy. It’s bad enough that your father will be bending my ear all the way back. I’m used to it of course, but there’s no reason to inflict it on you too. There’s wine in the fridge if you fancy it,’ she said, then grabbed her keys and headed out, banging the front door behind her.
Amber looked out of the window and watched until the red glow of the car’s taillights disappeared in the distance.
The house was quiet, other than the strangely soothing and rhythmic hum and swish of the dishwasher doing its work. Amber reached into the fridge and took out the bottle of wine her mother had mentioned, found a glass, then filled it. It was like drinking battery acid. She much preferred red but the Downing household was vin rouge free. The second sip wasn’t quite as horrible, so she resolved to give it a try and stick with it for a while. Anything was better than nothing, and after the day she’d had, if it took the edge off, then all the better.
She had been quiet all day, that much was true, but the reason she had given her mum hadn’t been the truth. Amber hadn’t thought about work since answering a quick email query that morning when she got up.
What had dominated her thoughts most of the day was Sophie.
It blew her mind that fate had seen fit to put them in the same place at the same time, and outside Waitrose of all places. The fact that she had recognised the adult version of the adolescent Sophie in a split second was unnerving. It was as if she had been transported back ten years in an instant. More worrying was the way she felt about her. The adrenal rush that shot through her body had made Amber want to bolt but she had remained standing there, heart pounding against her chest, unable to move. When Sophie had asked her to join her for coffee, that invitation in itself nearly floored her. What the hell would they have to talk about? Catch up on things, Sophie had said, as if she were inviting her to talk about something as mundane as the weather. Not the fact that Sophie had pulled Amber’s heart out of her chest and left it exposed while she walked away. No, she wouldn’t be doing a catch up with Sophie anytime soon.
Every confusing emotion that flooded her up until now terrified her. How could fate be that cruel to entwine their lives. To even think of going down that road again would be foolhardy and Amber knew it. If it was one lesson she’d learnt over the years, it was that making a mistake once was forgivable, but to do it twice? That was a choice and she deserved everything she got.
Besides, it was all irrelevant really. Amber lived on the other side of the world. What on earth would she have to gain by being friends with Sophie now?
She shook her head, knocked back what was left of her wine with a grimace and took the glass back into the kitchen, rinsing it under the tap and leaving it on the draining board.
She was just heading back to the living room, contemplating a Netflix binge to take her mind off the whole Sophie issue for a few hours, when the doorbell rang.
Diverting through the living room into the hallway, she could see a familiar looking figure through the frosted glass door. Opening the door, the woman had her back to Amber, but she knew exactly who it was. She didn’t have to wait until she turned and fixed her piercing green eyes straight into Amber’s. Amber’s knees gave way slightly at the sudden appearance of Sophie again. The rush of blood pounded in her ears.
‘Sophie?’ Amber literally had to force the words out. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I need to talk to you about something. Is this a bad time?’
Should she lie and say ‘yes’ she was busy? Or hear Sophie out?
Curiosity got the better of her.
‘I can spare five minutes. My mum will be back with my dad soon…’ Amber let her words drift off, the intention clear – say your piece then leave.
‘No worries. I bet your mum will be happy to have him home.’
Amber nodded and stepped aside to let Sophie enter.
‘D’you mind if I use your loo
first?’
‘Sure.’ Amber pointed down the hallway. ‘First door on your left, switch the light on before you go in and flush twice, one short one then a long one.’
Sophie looked puzzled. Amber shrugged. ‘It’s temperamental.’
‘Okay, one short then one long, got it,’ Sophie said, reciting Amber’s instructions.
Sophie headed off and disappeared into the loo while Amber walked into the kitchen, wringing her hands together just the way her mother did when she was anxious about something. When Amber realised, she stopped herself and dropped her hands by her side.
Amber could hear Sophie make three attempts at flushing the toilet before finally getting it right. She couldn’t help but smile at Sophie’s determination.
‘You want something to drink?’ Amber said loudly from the kitchen, hoping her voice would be enough to guide Sophie in the right direction. Though her intention had been to get her out of the house as soon as possible, she found it impossible to be rude and not offer a guest something to drink. A habit drilled into her by her ever so sociable mother.
A mop of dark hair appeared around the door, followed by the rest of Sophie. ‘Ah, there you are. Thought I might get lost for a moment. Yeah, coffee would be great, unless you’ve got anything a bit stronger?’
‘Wine? It’s in the fridge if you want some,’ Amber nodded at the tall, grey, American style fridge against one wall of the kitchen, ‘but I must warn you, it tastes like drain cleaner mixed with mouthwash.’
‘Coffee it is then,’ Sophie said.
‘Instant okay?’
‘Yeah, great. White no sugar just to pre-empt your next question.’
‘So you’re a psychic now?’ Amber joked trying to lighten the obvious tension that filled the air.
‘If only,’ Sophie said wistfully. ‘If I could predict the future, my life would be a hell of a lot different to how it is now.’
Oh God! Do I ask her what’s wrong? Do I want to get emotionally involved?