What Now?

by Shari Low

  ‘Hey, lovely!’

  ‘Carly! Where are you?’

  ‘Just passed your house on my way to Heathrow. I was going to call you when I got there.’

  ‘No way!’ There was a change in the tone, as if she’d put me on to speaker. ‘Cooper, why are you going to Heathrow?’

  ‘Okay, don’t freak out…’ I decided that I had at least twenty minutes until we got to the airport, and the boys were both occupied on their phones, so I may as well jump right in and tell her. ‘But here’s the thing, Kate. I messed up. I really did. I was a complete cow to Sam, and I know now that it’s because I was confused, and I didn’t want to leave, and I was jealous…’

  ‘Jealous?’

  ‘Yes! Jealous that Estelle got to be with Sam even though she has the personality of a cabbage.’

  Mac shook his head, laughing and I chided myself for the low blow. Even though I meant it. How I felt about Estelle didn’t matter. What actually did matter was…

  ‘I love him, Kate. I do. Not just as a friend. I love him in all the ways. So last night, I told Mark I couldn’t go back to him… It’s okay, the boys are with me and they know. We worked it all out and it’s going to be fine.’ I knew I was rambling, but I was just running on nervous energy and so excited to be telling her. ‘Anyway. I’m going to LA and I’m going to tell Sam I’m in love with him and I know it’ll be a disaster because I’m a chunky, middle-aged woman with her own lips and a forehead that moves, and he only dates goddesses now, but I need to tell him anyway. Because I do. I love him. I think I always have, but it was never the right time for us. It’s still not the right time, because he’s happy with Estelle, and he probably hates me because I was a cow to him…’

  ‘STOP!’ she screamed. I almost dropped the phone. ‘Carly, come back. Right now. This minute. We need to talk and it’s important. There’s some things you need to know.’

  ‘But, Kate, I can’t. Didn’t you hear me? I’m going to…’

  ‘Carly, call it off. You can’t do it. I need to talk to you first. Come back here right now.’

  I was starting to get scared. ‘Tell me!’

  ‘Sam’s married!’ she blurted.

  The shock almost made me drop the phone. Mac and Benny’s heads whipped round, eyes wide, jaws dropped. He’d married Estelle. Fuck. I’d blown it. I was too late. Everything went numb, except for the searing pain in my chest, but I couldn’t buckle in front of my boys.

  Instead, I gulped for enough air to speak, then tapped the driver urgently on the shoulder. ‘Excuse me, can you turn round please. Take us back to where you collected us.’

  I could see in the rear-view mirror that he wasn’t pleased that a fare to Heathrow had turned into a ten-minute drive round the block, but to his credit he didn’t complain.

  ‘You okay, Mum?’ Benny asked, taking my hand.

  ‘I am.’ I wasn’t, but I couldn’t crumble in front of them. They needed to know this was going to be ok. ‘Sometimes things just don’t work out the way you expect, my love. Life is just like that.’ I was trying so desperately to hold it together.

  Mac went for the practical angle. ‘You’ve still got us. And trash telly. How about we chill out on the sofas for the rest of the day and we’ll give you the remote control.’

  Don’t cry. Don’t cry. ‘I’ve never felt more honoured. I get the remote for the whole day?’

  ‘Until midnight,’ he confirmed solemnly.

  I put an arm around each of them and kissed their heads. They didn’t even squirm once. ‘Well, if I’d known all I had to do to get the remote was come up with some crazy heartbreak, I’d have done it ages ago.’

  The car stopped as we pulled up outside my house. I paid, then paused at the end of my path.

  ‘Boys, I’m just going to pop next door to see Aunt Kate. You go on in and I’ll be home in a few minutes.’

  ‘Sure you’re okay, Mum?’ That was Benny again, his concern almost pushing me over the edge, taking my cool, pragmatic act with it.

  ‘I am,’ I assured him, lying through my teeth.

  I walked the few steps to Kate’s house, in a daze, one foot in front of the other, trying to get there before I fell apart. Her front door opened at exactly the same time as I opened her gate.

  ‘Hey you.’

  Sam Morton. In Kate’s doorway.

  I blinked, deciding it must be jet lag or the fumes from the taxi’s exhaust.

  Nope, still there.

  ‘Sam? What the… what the… what are you doing there?’

  ‘I was in the neighbourhood…’ he said, and I could hear the laughter in his words. ‘And I heard that the Chiswick Cheese Slicer lived around this way…’

  There it was. Mark had almost combusted when he saw the video, yet I knew Sam would think it was hilarious and love the fact that I was standing up to a creep.

  ‘So I thought I’d come see if she needed to be bailed out of jail.’

  Ah. Kate had told him about that then.

  Kate! That threw up her words from just a few minutes ago.

  ‘But Kate said you’re married.’

  Kate’s living-room window flew open. I hadn’t even noticed that she must have been watching us all along. ‘Sorry about that,’ she said, wincing. ‘It was the only thing I could think of to make you stop and come back and it just flew out of my gob. You know I’m no good in a drama.’

  ‘That might be the worst thing you’ve ever done to me,’ I told her, but I could feel the corners of my mouth turning up. I took a few steps forward, towards Sam. ‘So, just to clarify, you haven’t married Estelle?’

  ‘Nope. You see, I’m a bit in love with someone else. And I don’t think she’s a cow. Or chunky. Or middle-aged. And I like that her lips are normal and her forehead moves.’

  ‘I WAS ON SPEAKER WHEN I SAID ALL THAT?’ I bellowed to Kate. The window opened again, and her head popped out.

  ‘Yeah, ehm, sorry. I actually think that’s probably the worst thing I’ve ever done to you.’

  I didn’t have time to agree, because Sam was speaking again.

  ‘And I love everything about her. Every single thing. I always have. I just couldn’t tell her because I didn’t think she felt the same and my heart couldn’t take another break.’

  ‘Yasssss!’ It was only a whisper, but enough to make me turn, to see that Benny and Mac were a couple of metres behind me, at the end of the path, and they were both punching the air. They’d always adored Sam, and they’d taken the news really well last night, especially when, to his credit, Mark had explained that he thought Sam was right for me. Seems like we all did.

  I took another few steps towards him. ‘If she promises that she’s madly in love with you and that she’ll never break your heart again, will you give her a chance to prove it?’

  ‘Depends.’

  ‘On?’ I asked, heart thudding.

  ‘Whether she’ll stay for good this time?’

  In a few more strides, I reached him, and kissed his gorgeous, perfect lips. I only stopped when I realised I hadn’t answered his question.

  ‘For good this time, Sam. For always.’

  Epilogue

  Sam’s Kitchen – Almost Midnight, New Year’s Eve 2019

  The champagne was on ice and the dulcet tones of Tom Jones were oozing from the sound system. Over at the floor-to-ceiling glass wine fridge, Val and her husband, Don, were dancing arm in arm to ‘Delilah’. Sam had flown them both over to Los Angeles, first class of course, as a wedding present. A wedding present to me. In ten hours, we’d be getting married outside, in the beautiful grassy garden behind the pool. Matthew McConaughey was welcome to watch if he put some clothes on.

  Mac and Benny were thrilled about the wedding, and so happy to be in LA. They’d already picked their rooms for when we were here, although we’d agreed to stay in London for two more years and just come here during school holidays.

  Sam had moved production of his next movie to Pinewood Studios, so he would be with us
for most of the first year at least, until the movie wrapped. We weren’t sure exactly how it would look, but Sam and I agreed that the boys came first. Mark and his new girlfriend, a lawyer from his office, felt the same, so I was pretty sure that, between us all, we’d figure it out.

  There was a cheer as Kate and Bruce joined Val and Don in their kitchen dance, quickly followed by a groan from Kate’s daughter, Tallulah. All the kids were congregated round the island. Kate’s three, my two, Charlie and Toni, Jess’s son, Josh, and Hannah and Ryan. The next generation of the framily. I knew that they’d always have each others’ backs because it was how they’d all been brought up. If Sarah could somehow see this, could see them all laughing together, she’d know that Hannah and Ryan were going to be fine. We had it covered.

  We had Toni covered too. She was almost unrecognisable from the young woman she was six months ago. She held her head high and spoke with confidence, something that she’d got used to since the video came out. She’d left her fashion course at college, admitting it was never a good fit for her, and she was taking a year out to decide what she really wanted to do with her life. I had a feeling it would be something progressive, something that truly mattered to her. She was now as big on social media as her mother, but as well as influencing ethical trends, she’d become a spokesperson for several anti-bullying, cyber safety and teenage mental health groups. It was like she’d finally found her own skin and it fitted her perfectly. I couldn’t be more proud.

  Callum and Carol were sitting at the other island, with my youngest brother Michael and his family. They’d all travelled here for the wedding and I couldn’t be more grateful to have them here, especially as my mother couldn’t make it. She was on her own honeymoon after marrying a golf pro she met in Marbella in an intimate beach ceremony last week. They hadn’t invited any guests because they said they only needed each other. They were obviously totally compatible.

  Turns out another couple had found they were pretty well matched. On the bar stool next to me, Jess was leaning on Arnie, his arms draped around her shoulders, her engagement ring sparkling on her finger. Apparently, it had been lust at first sight and that had quickly become so much more. All those nights she’d been sneaking out while we were in LA, hadn’t been for Tinder dates. She’d been sneaking out to Arnie’s flat above Sam’s garage. His third marriage was definitely going to be the lucky one.

  I was sure my second one was going to be special too, even if a tabloid had run a story speculating that I was Sam’s new-age, spiritual advisor, a complete fruitcake who ate nothing but bread (thus the hips) and who was a throwback to the hippy generation. I think they must have spotted me in the multicoloured kaftan. Either that or Estelle had leaked the lie out of spite. Although, rumour was that she’d now shacked up with one of the guys from the next Fast & Furious movie. Mac and Benny had never wanted to meet her more. Traitors.

  ‘I love you, Cooper,’ Sam murmured, kissing my neck.

  I pulled back so I could see his face. ‘Yeah, about that…’

  Sam groaned. ‘Oh God, what now?’

  ‘I’m thinking… maybe Carly Morton has a ring to it?’

  His throaty laugh did incredible things to my insides. ‘You do whatever you want to, my love. I’ll take you any way you come.’

  Sam Morton. Not the former Hollywood heartthrob. Not the successful producer. Not even the one who used to do some dodgy stuff in South East Asia.

  Just my future husband. The one I loved no matter what, and who didn’t want to change a single thing about me either. And that’s how I knew we were going to be together until the final credits rolled.

  Acknowledgment

  As always, this book wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for the spectacular team at Boldwood Books: Amanda, Nia, Ellie, Megan, Jade, Rose and everyone else in the Boldwood squad. I adore working with every single one of you. Special thanks to my editor and friend Caroline Ridding, who is the kind of brilliant talent and inspiring support that every writer dreams of having. I’m so grateful for your guidance, encouragement, positivity and your cool head in a crisis. And there have been many!

  Thanks too, to all the fabulous book bloggers, journalists, and reviewers who have supported me over the last two decades. I can’t tell you how much I’ve appreciated every word you wrote.

  As I said at the beginning of this story, my readers have made my twenty years in this business possible and I’m so thankful to every one of you. I truly hope you’ll stick around to see how the next twenty years pans out.

  My books wouldn’t exist without my very own ‘framily’, my awesome band of girl friends who’ve been there for every good time, bad time, caramel wafer and drama. There have been many of those too. Thanks ladies. I owe you even more cocktails.

  Gratitude and love to my own family, the Sunday night Zoom gang, who haven’t disowned me yet despite the fact that I’m frequently really embarrassing.

  And to my girl, Gemma, and my boys, Callan & Brad – who have given me endless laughs, love and cups of tea while I make up imaginary friends on the keyboard. I heart you all. Beyond words.

  Finally, John Low… Twenty seven years and counting. And I’d do it all again. Everything. Always.

  Love,

  Shari xx

  More from Shari Low

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  About the Author

  Shari Low is the #1 bestselling author of over 20 novels, including My One Month Marriage and One Day In Winter, and a collection of parenthood memories called Because Mummy Said So. She lives near Glasgow.

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  This updated edition first published in Great Britain in 2021 by Boldwood Books Ltd.

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  Copyright © Shari Low, 2021

  Cover Design by Alice Moore Design

  Cover Photography: Shutterstock

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  The moral right of Shari Low to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Every effort has been made to obtain the necessary permissions with reference to copyright material, both illustrative and quoted. We apologise for any omissions in this respect and will be pleased to make the appropriate acknowledgements in any future edition.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Paperback ISBN 978-1-83889-142-8

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