by Paige Toon
Ten books in ten years, Paige is consistently one of the highest rated women’s fiction authors on Goodreads. Here’s what some of her reviewers have said over the years:
Lucy in the Sky, 2007
‘I loved it – I couldn’t put it down!’ – Marian Keyes
‘A fab debut and a great summer read’ – Elle
Johnny Be Good, 2008
‘Pacy, highly enjoyable insight into life in La-La Land!’ – Closer
‘All the warmth and fun that I’ve grown to expect from the talented Ms Toon’ – Freya North
Chasing Daisy, 2009
‘A fast-paced and funny read... Superior chick-lit with great jokes and a thoughtful heart’ – Daily Express
‘Laugh-out-loud funny and touchingly honest. This summer’s poolside reading sorted!’ – Company
Pictures of Lily, 2010
‘An absorbing and emotional narrative – brilliant!’ – Heat
‘Another perfect summer page-turner from Paige Toon’ – Mirror
Baby Be Mine, 2011
‘Fun, summery, chick-lit with bite, if you want escapism, this is perfect’ – Cosmopolitan
‘Heart-warming and gut-wrenching (yet funny and addictive), will warm the cockles of your heart’ – Giovanna Fletcher
One Perfect Summer, 2012
‘Drama, heartache and tears aplenty – a refreshing take on the happy-ever-after tale’ – Marie Claire
Sweet, charming and true to life... had us reminiscing about summer loves... amazing’ – Cosmopolitan
The Longest Holiday, 2013
‘Unashamedly girly, will bring a smile to the face of anyone who has been unlucky in love... Chick-lit at its very best’ – Daily Express
‘Pure, sun-drenched escapism... the perfect summer holiday read’ – Heat
Thirteen Weddings, 2014
‘Witty, fun and impossible to put down!’ – Closer
‘A brilliant piece of chick-lit’ – Fabulous Magazine
The Sun in Her Eyes, 2015
‘Paige really ratchets up the tension. You’ll be in a reading frenzy by the end’ – Lisa Jewell
‘Paige Toon’s epic bestseller shows how life can change in a heartbeat’ – Glamour
Also by Paige Toon
Lucy in the Sky
Johnny Be Good
Chasing Daisy
Pictures of Lily
Baby Be Mine
One Perfect Summer
One Perfect Christmas (eBook Short Story)
The Longest Holiday
Johnny’s Girl (eBook Short Story)
Thirteen Weddings
The Sun in Her Eyes
Young Adult
The Accidental Life of Jessie Jefferson
I Knew You Were Trouble
All About the Hype
First published in Great Britain by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd, 2016
A CBS COMPANY
Copyright © Paige Toon 2016
This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.
No reproduction without permission.
® and © 1997 Simon & Schuster Inc. All rights reserved.
The right of Paige Toon to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
Simon & Schuster UK Ltd
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Simon & Schuster Australia, Sydney
Simon & Schuster India, New Delhi
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-4711-3843-0
Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-1-4711-5514-7
eBook ISBN: 978-1-4711-3844-7
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Typeset by M Rules
Printed and bound by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY
Simon & Schuster UK Ltd are committed to sourcing paper that is made from wood grown in sustainable forests and support the Forest Stewardship Council, the leading international forest certification organisation. Our books displaying the FSC logo are printed on FSC certified paper.
For my beautiful editor, Suzanne Baboneau and for my lovely readers, old and new.
Thank you for making my childhood dream of becoming an author even better than I could have imagined.
(And I imagine for a living, so that’s saying something.)
Contents
Prologue
Part One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Part Two
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Angus
She’s here. I’m instantly tense. The people around here are mistaken. They don’t all look alike. She’s special. She’s different. She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
I watch her in a daze through the crowded, smoky air as she gets herself a beer from the makeshift bar. I want to go over to her, but I stay where I am, leaning against the doorframe. After what happened last night, she has to come to me. But I don’t know if she will. I’ve been worried she wouldn’t even turn up.
She swigs from her bottle, then looks around the packed living room, taking everything in. She’s late and everyone else is well on their way to oblivion. Turning up at a party alone at this hour is brave. It wouldn’t surprise me if she walked right back out again. That thought messes with my head, and it’s already messed up enough. I can’t believe I’ve let her get to me like this.
I watch, fixated, as she puts the bottle back to her lips and then suddenly her eyes lock with mine. I force myself to stare back at her.
She smiles at me and the relief is instant. I jerk my head backwards, willing her to come over. Still smiling, she slowly makes her way through the packed space, squeezing through bodies until she’s right in front of me.
‘Hey,’ I say, reaching down to touch my fingertips to hers.
‘Hi.’ She closes her hand into a fist.
Okay, so we’re not cool. Her gorgeous eyes are wide as she stares up at me. My gaze drops to her lips. They’re shiny, like she’s just applied lip gloss. I want to lick it off her.
Bloody hell, I’m drunk.
‘How was dinner?’ I ask.
‘It was fine!’ She shouts. I can’t hear her next words because the music is too loud.
‘What did you say?’ I shout back, cupping her head with
my hand and pulling her closer.
‘I said it’s noisy!’
‘Yeah,’ I reply with a grin. ‘Sorry, I’m a bit pissed.’ I speak right into her ear.
‘Lucky you.’
She is so sexy. Her hair is soft under my fingers. I run my thumb across her temple and she puts her hand on my chest. I think she’s trying to keep me at bay, but it’s not working. Her touch almost does me in.
I take her hands and pull her closer.
‘Angus?’ She sounds uncertain as I touch my forehead to hers. I know I’m making her uncomfortable in front of all these people, but I need to be with her. I want her so much. Too much.
Determination surges through me. ‘Come with me,’ I say firmly, putting our beers on a nearby table. I grab her hand and tug her out of the living room. My head is spinning as I push open the door to the cloakroom under the stairs. I pull her inside and hear her gasp as I slam the door shut behind her. Then my mouth is on hers. I hear her sharp intake of breath as my tongue pushes her lips apart. She hesitates only a little before kissing me back. I could kiss her forever.
‘I want you,’ I murmur into her mouth, pressing myself up against her so she can feel how much.
Her breath quickens as I slide my hand up inside her T-shirt.
‘I want you,’ I say again, and then she silences me with fast, hungry kisses and I know that I’ve got her. She’s mine.
Someone turns the doorknob and I whip my hand out from under her T-shirt and slam my palm against the door, keeping it shut.
‘Go upstairs,’ I shout, locking the door. ‘Whoops.’ I laugh under my breath as I pull her body flush to mine. But she’s tensed again. ‘It’s alright,’ I tell her, my hand returning to the hem of her shirt. But this time she catches it, stopping me in my tracks.
‘What... We... What are you doing?’ she asks, even more breathless than before.
‘What do you think I’m doing?’ I ask in a low voice, kissing her neck. We’re picking up from where we left off last night. She needs to know what she does to me.
‘Angus, stop!’ she says loudly.
Oh fuck. Ice freezes my stomach and I jerk away from her, reaching for the pull cord to flood the room with light. She flinches at the brightness, instinctively lifting her hands up to block it. She squints at me from under the shade of her fingers and I stare back at her with horror.
Same greeny-gold eyes...
Same light-blonde hair...
Not the same girl.
‘Oh...’ I say. ‘I thought you were—’
Rose
Phoebe
Eliza
You could say we’re freaks of nature.
We look exactly the same with our blonde hair and green eyes, and we all carry the same genetic material. One of us could literally commit murder and blame it on the others without our DNA giving us away.
Identical triplets are formed when a single fertilised egg splits into two, and one of the resulting two eggs splits again. The odds of this happening could be anything from 1 in 60,000 to 1 in 200 million, but one thing’s for certain: identical triplets are very, very rare.
When our parents brought us home from the hospital, they were terrified about mixing us up. Apparently we wore our hospital armbands until they grew too tight, and even after Mum snipped the bands off, she painted each of our little fingernails a different colour. Sometimes she’s still baffled about who’s who in our baby photographs.
But even though we look the same, and even though we came from the same, single, fertilised egg, we were separated into three before our mother even knew she was pregnant. And here’s the crux of it: we were born three completely different individuals.
As time passed and our personalities began to shine through, Mum and Dad came to realise that we actually had very little in common.
Yes, we could all scream very loudly.
And yes, we were all extremely stubborn.
But that was about it.
Until we were seventeen, that is. Because when we were seventeen, Angus Templeton moved in next door. And unfortunately, all three of us fell head over heels in love with him.
Part One
Chapter 1
Phoebe
When people say they’re living in the shadow of the mountain, it sounds kind of ominous. But there’s nothing ominous about this. The mountain is so close, I feel like I’m in it. I can’t even see the top unless I sit down on the sofa, and then my eye line reaches right up to the snowy peaks. What I wouldn’t give to be up there...
‘Why are you sighing?’
I jolt at the sound of Josie’s voice, glancing over my shoulder to see my best friend gazing down at me. ‘Nothing. I’m just happy to be back.’ I smile warmly.
It’s been almost ten years since we first came to Chamonix together at the age of eighteen.
‘What time did you get up?’ Josie asks, belatedly noticing that I’m fully dressed.
‘An hour or so ago,’ I reply, tightening my ponytail high up on my head.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ she grumbles, not expecting an answer as she flops onto the sofa beside me and yawns. Her medium-length dark hair is all tangled and her blue eyes look half asleep. She’s still gorgeous, though.
‘Coffee?’ I ask, bounding to my feet and heading into the small kitchen.
‘Yes, please,’ she replies.
We only arrived yesterday, and last night we hit an old haunt and drank one beer too many. To Josie’s irritation, I rarely suffer with hangovers, but then again, I managed to avoid being roped into the shots she did at midnight.
I switch on the radio and set about making the coffee, humming along to the music while she chills out.
‘What do you want to do today?’ she calls.
‘Climb a mountain.’ I poke my head around the door and flash her a hopeful grin.
‘Noooooo. No, no, no, no, no.’ Josie shakes her head adamantly and I continue with my task, chuckling to myself.
‘Sorry,’ she says, taking her cup from me when I reappear. ‘I don’t want to spoil your fun.’
I frown at her. ‘Don’t be silly.’
I’m getting married in two weeks, and all I wanted to do hen-wise was to come back here for a few days with my closest friend. I’ve thought a lot about Chamonix over the years, and as Josie and I experienced it together, it felt right that we should return, just the two of us.
My sisters were a little put out at not being invited, but now they’ve made other plans. Eliza and I are going to see a band in Manchester and Rose has organised a spa day. It’ll be great to have some one-on-one time with each of them. We don’t get to do that nearly enough these days.
‘So, aside from climbing a mountain, what else could we do?’ Josie perseveres.
‘Paraglide off one?’ I ask hopefully.
She pulls a face. ‘You know I don’t do extreme sports. I’m a boring mummy these days.’
Josie has a one-year-old son, Harry, back at home and this is the first time she’s been away from him.
‘How about we go on the Aiguille?’ I suggest. ‘You haven’t seen the top at this time of year.’
She went home towards the end of the winter season in March all those years ago, but I managed to secure a contract working on the Aiguille du Midi cable car. I loved life here so much that I ended up staying on through the summer.
‘Okay, sure,’ she agrees, nodding. ‘Guess I’d better get cracking then. I assume we’ll have to queue for ages like all the other tourists?’
‘Mmm, unfortunately. I don’t know anyone who works there any more.’
The thought makes my heart squeeze.
A couple of hours later, we’re nearly 4,000 metres above sea level on the highest and most famous of the Aiguilles de Chamonix.
I feel giddy with elation. Or maybe it’s the altitude. Whatever it is, I’m ecstatic to be back.
‘Wow,’ Josie murmurs as we stand in quiet reverence on the panoramic viewing platform. ‘I’d forgotten
how beautiful it is up here.’
I gaze around at the jagged browny-grey peaks of the surrounding mountains. Mont Blanc is ahead of us and carpeted with snow, nonchalantly indifferent to the fact that it’s summer. It looks deceptively close, but the way from here to its summit is one of the more technical climbing routes. I know because I’ve done it, as well as another route that is slightly less challenging, but not to be underestimated.
‘I can’t believe you climbed the White Lady twice.’ Josie appears to be reading my mind.
‘Neither can I,’ I reply, as another of Mont Blanc’s nicknames comes back to me: White Killer... It’s hard to keep track of how many people have lost their lives trying to reach the top of Western Europe’s highest summit, not to mention those who have perished coming back down again.
‘Getting to the top is only halfway’, my dad used to say. The thought of him here, now, brings with it a sharp sense of loss.
Dad died of a heart attack eight years ago, and I miss him so much, especially here in the mountains. He was the person who taught me how to climb.
Josie snorts with amusement, oblivious to the dark turn my thoughts have taken. ‘You are such a jammy git. Did you really get paid to stay overnight up here? What a view to wake up to!’
I can’t help but smile again. ‘Well, there are no windows in the staff apartment,’ I tell her. ‘But yeah, it was pretty ridiculous walking outside in the morning.’
When Josie and I first came to Chamonix, we started off as chambermaids, but when she went home, I set my sights higher – a lot higher.
I’d made friends with a few locals, and one of them, Cécile, worked here on the Aiguille du Midi. The likelihood of a non-Chamoniard securing a contract on the cable cars was so low that it barely seemed worth applying – once you got a contract, you didn’t let it go. But my French was fluent and Cécile promised to put in a good word for me, so I sent in my CV. When a couple of full-timers unexpectedly quit citing personal reasons, I got a lucky break.
It’s hard to convey how much I loved it. I had to do everything from manning the cable cars to picking up litter, but the icing on the cake came once a month, when two of us would be guardians of the top, staying overnight in the staff apartment three floors down from where Josie and I are standing now. We were the last people to see the sun set at night and the first to see it rise the next morning. The experience was unforgettable.