Beyond the Skyline

by Lise Gold

  “You never told me you wanted to leave. I understand that you want to be with Dan but you could have talked to me about it. We tell each other everything, right?” Maggie took her hand and squeezed it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re right. I should have told you first. I’m not sure if I wanted it to be real. I mean, I love London just as much as you do. But now it is… I can’t let an opportunity like this slip by.” She searched for her cigarettes in her bag and lit one. “I’m terrified, Sophie,” she said, before taking a long drag. “I’m scared of starting all over again and I’m afraid of failing. But I’m also super excited at the same time and right now, I need you to be happy for me. Can you do that?” Sophie nodded.

  “Of course I can be happy for you,” she sniffed. “It’s amazing. You’re going to have such a great time there. Maybe even a great life, who knows? I won’t expect you to come back anytime soon and I’m okay with that. We can still talk and visit each other, right?” She sighed. “You’ll only be six hours away.”

  “Hell yeah.” Maggie’s eyes widened. “Maybe I could find you a nice American boyfriend and we can all live happily ever after? You have to let me try, at least. Dan has lots of single friends over there. Americans love the English ladies, apparently.” She laughed, almost spilling her drink.

  “Seriously Sophie, I wish I could take you with me. I’m so nervous about moving to a city where I don’t know anyone. I don’t want to seem like a clingy girlfriend so I’ll have to let Dan do his thing and I know that’s going to be hard.” She leaned forward. “Did you know that moving abroad together is one of the biggest risks for a relationship?” Sophie shook her head.

  “Don’t worry. You two will be fine. But I’ll be coming over as soon as I can. You need to be prepared for that, okay? Now, let’s get one thing straight. You are not leaving early tonight. I don’t care how much you have to arrange. This might be the last Saturday we’ll be here together and you need a night to remember so you can miss me when you’re gone.” Maggie laughed at her desperate plea and gave in.

  “All right. Whatever you want, Sophie. But you’re buying.”

  2

  Sophie was slouched in the chair opposite her manager’s desk but corrected herself when Debbie walked in. She had tried really hard to be happy for Maggie but her effort hadn’t been successful. She missed her already. Besides that, she was worried about the prospect of doing both their fittings in one week. They would never be able to find a replacement for Maggie in such a short space of time, and even if they did, it would cost her even more of her precious time to get the newbie up to speed. The first thing she had found on her desk when she sat down that morning was a post-it note from Debbie requesting that she come and speak to her as soon as she got in. Sophie was an hour late, as usual on a Monday morning, and suspected Maggie had already informed her of the news. Debbie walked over to her desk and took a seat, and Sophie noticed the deep frown between her eyebrows. She knew from experience that it only appeared when she was either angry or stressed. Debbie moved back and forth in her chair, trying to find a way to sit comfortably behind her desk without her belly being in the way. She was getting bigger now. Her baby bump was at least the size of a basketball, and she could see the outline of her belly button through the thin fabric of her beige t-shirt, which certainly didn’t do her complexion any good at this stage in her pregnancy. She was sweating too. There were small drops above her upper lip and marks had already begun to form underneath her armpits. Sophie felt sorry for her. It wasn’t the best situation to leave a business behind in, with one man down, and certainly not when you were pregnant. But Debbie, perhaps not as fragile as she looked right now, took charge and got straight to the point.

  “Sophie, I need to talk to you about a situation we need to solve together.” Sophie nodded, aware of what was coming.

  “As you might know, considering you’re a good friend of Maggie’s, she handed in her notice this morning.” Sophie sighed.

  “Yes, I know. But she only told me Saturday night. And yes, I also know we’ve got a problem, and at such short notice, I’m not sure what to do about it.” Debbie was slowly impaling her mouse mat with her pen as she was talking. It seemed like a severe nervous tick, but Sophie managed to refrain from commenting on it. Debbie finally spotted the holes in the mat and put the pen away, folding her hands in front of her.

  “Obviously Maggie can’t come into work anymore. She’s coming in to pick up her personal belongings tomorrow, and I would appreciate it if you could pack everything up for her. It’s against company policy for her to be here as she’s going to another designer label. Which means we’re now officially understaffed.” She paused. “I’ve thought about offering her role to one of the Junior Designers, but I don’t think any of them are quite up to the job, so we’re going to have to replace her with someone of her own level.” She rummaged through a pile of paperwork and handed Sophie a CV.

  “This girl sent me an open application letter for the position of Senior Designer a couple of weeks ago. Her name is Mel Johnson, and she’s very passionate about working here. She’s got five years of experience and has been promoted within all of her roles so far. I know Maggie has eleven years of experience but different people develop in different ways. Her references are excellent. I’m going to give her a probation period of three months, and if she’s interested in the offer, I’ll send her to Hong Kong with you. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll have to get a freelancer for the time being.” She regarded Sophie, who looked over the CV with very little interest as if she had already dismissed the designer.

  “Sophie, I need you to work with me here. There’s no other option at the moment and this girl seems highly capable. You need to teach her everything you know as fast as you can. If she’s as good as she claims, we’ll be up to speed in no time. I’m going to give her a ring now and if she accepts, we’ll talk about the details later. It will benefit you to have someone stable here when you take over during my maternity leave. I’m sure you agree with me on that?” Sophie relaxed, suddenly remembering her upcoming promotion and the fact that she wouldn’t be able to sulk anymore when she stepped into Debbie’s shoes. She straightened her back and gave her a reassuring look.

  “Of course. We’ll make it work, I promise. I’m just a bit upset about Maggie leaving, as you can probably imagine. But you’re right. I’ll prepare Maggie’s files and make sure everything is ready and clear for when the new girl starts. I just hope she’s good.” That landed her an approving smile from Debbie.

  “Good girl. I’m counting on you.”

  3

  “For the love of God! Enough work drama. I’m sure your new colleague will be fine. Now more importantly, did you hear that Millie had some work done on her nose? Apparently, she hasn't left her apartment for two weeks, and someone I know saw her walking around with a bandage in the middle of her face." Cat grinned proudly as if obtaining the information had been an actual accomplishment. Sophie rolled her eyes, amused by her oldest friend’s unhealthy obsession with gossip.

  "Cat, leave her alone. You know the reason she hasn't told you is that you 'yekyekyek' too much." She made a talking sign with both her hands next to her face. "And as much as I love your juicy theories, you can't make assumptions. Maybe she just fell and broke her nose?” Cat tried to keep a straight face, but they both broke out in laughter. Sophie and Cat had their weekly catch up. It was a sacred meeting that they only canceled when one of them was abroad.

  "So what's up with you, my lady?" Sophie asked after their second Martini. Cat sighed.

  "Nothing. Just boring. It's one big boring nothing. Ben wants to have kids, and I've been secretly taking the pill to make sure that doesn't happen. I’m not ready yet.” Sophie frowned.

  “Ben wants to have kids? I didn’t take him for the broody type.” Cat raised a hand.

  “I know, right? I mean, can you imagine? My life is eventless enough as it is. There will be nothing left of me if I have to
stay at home with a baby twenty-four-seven. I’ll lose my Monday nights with you-- the one night in the week I can have a drink with a friend. The only reason I’m here is that Ben is playing volleyball and he’ll probably call me in an hour to check what time I’ll be coming home. I'll even have to say goodbye to my Tuesday night bridge club, however boring that may be. Monday and Tuesday. That’s my weekend. Isn’t that sad?” She pulled a sorry face. Cat was an expert at pulling faces, perfected by years of practice, with the sole goal of gaining sympathy from her audience. “Hey, it's better than nothing I suppose." Sophie stared at her in disbelief.

  "Cat, you're a lady of leisure. Do you realize how many people would kill to be in your position? You can do whatever you want. There's no need to be bored. You can take up any sports or hobbies, do volunteer work, study, look for a job... You can go on holiday anytime you want. Visit cities, take some language courses. As far as the baby plans go, just tell Ben you don't want to have kids right now. And if you don't ever want them, you should let him know that too. Tell him that you want to go out more and that you refuse to schedule your social life around his calendar. Because that’s stupid. I’m sure he’ll understand." Cat shrugged.

  "I know. When you put it like that, I sound like a spoilt brat. But Ben wants me to be home when he comes out of work and I don't have many people to go on holiday with. Ben doesn't have time to take trips with me, and anyway, he hasn’t been much fun lately.” She sighed. “Maybe I should just get a job. Right now I feel like I have to justify myself to him about everything. Especially about the fact that I'm sitting at home all day doing nothing. And if I don’t want to be a mom anytime soon then what the hell is my purpose in life?" Sophie poked her.

  "Chin up, Cat. I'm not saying your first world problems aren't important. I'm saying that you need to be your own person, not just Ben's wife. You do know it's okay to change your mind, right? You don't need to stay with him if it's not working out, no matter how much money your parents have spent on the wedding or how much security his wealth gives you. I know you can take care of yourself if you have to.” Cat waved at the waiter and pointed at her empty glass.

  “Maybe you’re right,” she said, sighing. “I’m not leading my own life. I’m leading Ben’s life. It’s just not the fairy tale I expected it to be, Sophie. I was so in love with him when we first met. I thought we would have fun together, travel and see the world. He was fun, wasn’t he?” Sophie nodded but didn’t necessarily agree. To Sophie, Ben had always been the person who had stolen Cat away from her. Her Cat. She blinked to suppress the painful memory of their wedding day. Seeing Cat there at the altar had been hard. She had looked so beautiful in her lace vintage dress, surrounded by candles…

  But Cat wasn’t hers and she never had been. She turned her gaze back to her friend, who was clearly on a mission to pour her heart out.

  “He’s become so serious since he started this new job and I think spending time with me has become an obligation to him: something he does to prove to himself that we have a healthy marriage.” She shifted on her barstool, scanning the crowd to make sure their conversation was private. “I looked in his diary the other day and it actually said ‘spend time with Cat’ between seven and ten pm every Wednesday and Thursday night. Then I started flicking through the whole damn thing and found that he had filled in all our weekends for the coming three months with dinners, family visits and social obligations. It made me feel sick.” Sophie cast her a comforting smile and put an arm around her shoulder. Cat sighed, looking up at her.

  “I think I want a divorce. I thought I wanted this but I don’t. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I feel like I’m slowly losing myself.” She took a sip of her drink and stared at nothing in particular. “I’m an onion, Sophie.” Sophie tried to repress a giggle.

  “I’m not sure what you mean Cat. What’s an onion?”

  “You know, an onion. The things you cook with. I feel like an onion that’s being peeled away, layer by layer. I’ve been trying so hard to be perfect that I’ve shed all the questionable things about me that made me who I am.” She looked down and watched a lock of dark hair fall into her drink. “And in the end, all what’s left is a bitter core that no one likes.” Sophie took the strand of hair and tucked it back behind Cat’s ear, leaving a drop of Martini to run down her neck.

  “He’s turned me into an onion and I’m afraid that if I don’t leave him I’ll become the left over crap that you put in a cheap curry just because it’s there.”

  “Calm down, Cat.” Sophie managed to hide a smile. “You’re not an onion and you’ll never be one. If you want to leave Ben, I’ll support you. You can live with me for a while-- or for as long as you want. But if you decide to stay with him, you two need to have a serious talk. Let him know what you want and what you need for this marriage to work.” Cat looked up at Sophie and nodded slowly.

  “Thanks Sophie. You’re wise, as always, but I think I’m just going to stick my head in the sand for a little bit longer. I don’t think I can handle any conflict just yet.” She cast Sophie a sad smile. “It’s funny, isn’t it? How all of our friends are married or in relationships but very few of them seem genuinely happy. Don’t you find that strange?” Sophie shrugged.

  “I don’t know. I suppose a lot of the settled girls in our circles chose to be with someone who could provide for them--someone with social status or a comfortable future—not someone they were head over heels in love with. It’s surprising that it still happens in this day and age. That’s the strange thing if you ask me. I could never do it.” Cat nodded absently, stirring the olive through her Martini.

  “So how’s your love life, Sophie?” She asked, more out of habit than out of curiosity. Everyone knew that Sophie didn’t have a love life.

  “Nothing,” Sophie mumbled, licking the salt from the peanuts off her fingers. “If I meet someone interesting enough to talk about, you’ll be the first to know.” Cat crossed her arms and leaned in over the table.

  “Why won’t you let me set you up?” asked Cat, “Isn’t it about time that you settled down? Aren’t you lonely? You’ve been single for almost a year now. I know at least three good looking, successful men that would line up to go on a date with you.” Sophie looked at her with a hint of annoyance.

  “Cat, I wish you would just stop going on about the bloody subject every single time we have a drink together. I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again. I’m happy and I don’t need a man in my life. What good would it do me anyway? You weren’t exactly selling the concept five minutes ago.” Cat pursed her lips. She picked up some peanuts, rolled then between her thumb and two fingers and threw them back in the glass with a sour look on her face.

  “Yeah. I guess you’re right. But you never even have one-night stands anymore. How can you not want the excitement? The thrill? I would kill for a bit of spice in my sex-life. Sometimes I wonder if he still finds me attractive. I don’t think he does, actually. Not like when we first started dating.” She pursed her lips. “Maybe he’s right. Maybe I’ve become old and unattractive and boring. Can’t blame him.”

  “You idiot,” Sophie said in a low voice, trying to keep their conversation private from the crowd around them. She took Cat’s hand. “You are not old or unattractive or boring. Look at yourself. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? Your wonderful thick dark hair, and those deep blue eyes... It’s the most magical combination one could ever wish for. And you have freckles. Perfect freckles. People would kill for those, you know?” Cat didn’t say anything. She just smiled sadly, her eyes watery from the alcohol. Then she raised her glass and bowed her head.

  “I love you, Sophie.”

  4

  “There’s my darling daughter,” Eleanor Scott chirped. She air-kissed Sophie on the cheeks before rushing her inside. Sophie studied her mother as she followed her inside. She looked like a weather presenter from one of the conservative channels today. Her camel-coloured dress, pearl earrings and straight da
rk bob were the result of a recent visit to a style guru, whom she’d paid a fortune to tell her how to best present herself.

  “Just in time. Deborah and Mark are already here and guess what? They’ve brought Aldo along. Isn’t that great? You remember Aldo, don’t you?” Sophie’s face couldn’t have hidden her disappointment if she’d had a gun to her temple. Of course she remembered Aldo. He had been trying to impress her ever since they were twelve, when their parents first became friends. As they ran in the same circles, they would often see each other at parties or in bars and as much as she tried to avoid him, he always managed to corner her somewhere and push a glass of champange into her hands, which meant that Sophie felt obliged to listen to his pompous bragging for the duration of her drink. Sophie was convinced the only reason he hadn’t abandoned his pursuit yet was because of her complete lack of interest. And that was hard for him to stomach. Although his eyes were relatively small in relation to his face, Aldo was considered a charmer and he was always on the hunt for the prettiest girls in London. He had broken many hearts and had even dated some of her friends. They were usually replaced after two to three weeks by someone skinnier, wealthier or more interesting. He had not been missed when he disappeared for a couple of years to continue his quest on the campus of Cambridge University. He was now a private investor, just like his father, and made no secret of his wealth. No, Sophie was certainly not a fan of Aldo, and the fact that she would have to sit through lunch with him brought her mood down straight away.

  “Mum, you’re not trying to set me up again, are you? Because if you are, I can spare you the effort. I don’t like Aldo. Not even a little bit.” Her mother pouted her plump lips. She always did that when she disagreed but with the new set of fillers it was better if she didn’t. The duck face could be disturbing to people who didn’t see it coming.