Three people who it was far too late to go back to now—even if she had the courage to make the trip.
The meeting broke up, and Eve paused by Sophie’s end of the desk to drop off some paperwork.
“Okay?” she said generally, but Sophie knew she was referring to her vacant spell in the middle of the meeting that she had been supposed to be running.
“Fine, getting a cold or something,” Sophie said, with half a smile.
Eve raised an eyebrow before leaving.
Cal checked his watch. “It’s lunchtime,” he said. “Come on, let’s go out for a walk.”
Sophie looked at the pile of paperwork on her desk. “I can’t, Cal, I have to catch up on all of this and read the minutes from the meeting. Has Lisa typed them up yet?”
“You’re joking, aren’t you?” Cal said, picking up the offending pile of paperwork, arranging it neatly, and dropping it in its entirety into one of the deep drawers of Sophie’s filing cabinet. “There, that’s filed. Lisa won’t have finished those notes until this afternoon if we’re lucky. She’s out to lunch, in all senses of the word, with the new love of her life. Anyway, it’s a beautiful spring morning out there, and we’re going for a walk to clear our heads. Come on! I’ll buy you a Mars bar.”
A few minutes later they sat side by side on a bench in Finsbury Circus looking at a bed of red tulips bobbing cheerfully in the breeze.
“Why is this called a circus?” Cal asked her. “When it’s square?”
Sophie shrugged. “Don’t care,” she said.
Cal sighed. “Look,” he said. “When you first came back and were a bit off your game, I thought it was exhaustion. All those weeks of wiping arses and noses, ugh! And when you went through your thankfully short period as a lush, I thought it was the stress of getting a job you probably couldn’t really do. I put up with the constant hangovers, the nights out, spending my lunchtime taking your impulse buys back for you because you’re too embarrassed to do it yourself. I thought, She’s had a difficult time. It will take time to adjust. But you’ve been back over three months now, Soph. You keep getting more vague and airy-fairy, not less. And I know for a fact you have no social life, so unless you’ve developed a very boring addiction to heroin, which you haven’t because you hate needles, you’re depressed. So why are you depressed—as if it isn’t obvious?”
Sophie frowned at him.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Honestly!”
Cal sighed again and rolled his eyes. “I used to prefer when you were in love with Jake,” he said wistfully. “It was much less complicated.”
Sophie managed a small smile. “I was never in love with Jake—I wish I had been—and anyway I’ll be fine,” she said. “I just need a bit of adjustment time, that’s all.”
Cal looked at his watch again. “Three months not long enough?” he asked. “Look, I’d prefer you to just tell me, but as you’re going to make me guess…you fell in love with the kids and then their good-looking, mysterious dad, and he toyed with your affections before cruelly spurning you—is that it? Hey, that’s a bit like Jane Eyre. You could burn their new house down, after evacuating the children first, of course. That’ll get his attention. No, hang on, I think that was the mad first wife in the attic.”
Sophie did not crack a smile; her gaze remained fixed on the tulips, but Cal persisted. “You could see the girls, couldn’t you?” he asked her. “I bet Mr. Mysterious would let you see them, even if he doesn’t fancy you. All you’d have to do is pick up the phone and ask.”
Sophie wondered if Cal had guessed how many times she had sat with her phone in her hand and thought of dialing the number that Louis had sent her along with a change of address card the girls had made shortly after she got back. He hadn’t written anything in the card except for their details, and underneath that Bella had written, “We love you, Aunty Sophie!”
Of course she couldn’t just pick up the phone. Of course she couldn’t, because picking up the phone would mean talking to him and hearing his voice, and before she knew it, she’d be right back to square one, which would be difficult because she hadn’t actually moved off square one since the day she’d left St. Ives.
“I can’t,” she simply told Cal. “I just…can’t.”
“He must have really fucking spurned you,” Cal said, “for you to be so down about it after all this time. If I didn’t have such a pretty face to protect, I’d go and beat him up for you.” He put an arm around her shoulders. “Look, Sophie, you’ve got to give up this unrequited love lark. It hurts now, but I promise you it will get better eventually. Really.”
Sophie looked at him. “He didn’t spurn me,” she said on impulse. “I spurned him.” She paused and looked puzzled. “Have you ever noticed when you say a word you don’t use much it sounds weird. ‘Spurn…spurn…spu——’”
“Hold on a minute!” Cal’s tone snapped her out of her reverie. “You spurned him! Why? I mean, why have you been moping around here for weeks on end depressing us all with your miserable face when you could have been romping around the heather or whatever the fuck they have in Cornwall with Mr. Mysterious the whole time?”
Sophie rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. It was more or less that very same question that had kept her awake every night since she’d got back.
On the beach, in the cold, in the hours before dawn, everything had seemed perfectly clear. She had felt she knew exactly what she was doing up until the moment she had pulled up outside her flat in London. From that moment she had been running as fast as she possibly could to get away from the persistent, nagging doubt that she had made the worst mistake of her life. That Louis really wanted her as much as she wanted him and she had denied them both the chance to find out.
Sophie thought she must be the only person in the world who was actually capable of being almost terminally sensible. God knows, it felt like her decision was killing her very slowly and painfully.
“It’s too late now,” she insisted, giving Cal the same answer she had given herself. “I had this tiny, slim chance of making something happen, and I ran away from it. I mean, of course I did. I’m me, aren’t I? I missed my chance. It’s just too complicated now.”
“Oh yes, it is,” Cal said with heavy sarcasm. “It is deeply complicated. You fancy him, he fancies you. You both love his kids. That’s a really tricky one, that is. Better ruin everyone’s life, including mine, while you think about it for all eternity.” He glared at Sophie. “How, pray, is it complicated?”
Sophie glared back at him. “Because…” She struggled to dredge up all the reasons. “He’s Carrie’s husband. Being with him would be like cheating on Carrie! And maybe he doesn’t really like me, maybe he just wanted me for a fling, and then if I fell for him and it all went wrong, what would it do to the girls? Those children have been through enough and…and other reasons I forget just now, but which are very sensible.”
Cal nearly choked on his Diet Coke. “You are impossible,” he told her. “He is in love with you.”
“How do you know?” Sophie wailed.
“Because I know you, and I know the reason you ran away wasn’t because of any of that crap you just spouted. It was because you know he loves you and you’re scared shitless.”
“I still can’t go back, Cal. He’s Carrie’s husband.”
Cal raised both of his beautifully shaped eyebrows skyward. “That is not the real reason,” he said with some frustration.
“It is the real reason,” she insisted. “And it’s a bloody good reason too, thanks very much.”
“Look, even I know that Carrie and Louis weren’t together for years before you met him. You haven’t told me the whole story, but I’ve worked out that whatever broke them up, it wasn’t just because he was an evil genius. It was probably because, like the rest of us, they were both human. I mean, think about it, Soph—you were in love with Alex, weren’t you?”
“I thought I was,” Sophie conceded, although she couldn’t see the
point of the question.
“Exactly. And that was over two years ago. So tell me, how do you—an alive person—feel about the fact that he’s getting married in two weeks?”
“Is he?” Sophie said absently. “That’s nice.” Then her brow furrowed and she glanced at Cal. “How do you know?”
“I don’t,” Cal told her. “I was just proving the point. If Carrie was here, she wouldn’t care about you and Louis being together. She would have moved on.”
Sophie nodded. “I know,” she said. “But she’s not here to say it’s okay, and that makes it impossible.”
Cal gave her a scathing look. “Tell me the real reason you’re doing this to yourself.”
“What other reason would there possibly be?” Sophie said halfheartedly.
Cal gestured at the cloudless sky. “If Carrie is up there right now, she’s probably shouting at you, ‘Go to him, you stupid cow!’ Oh no, you’re not joining a nunnery instead of marrying the Captain and becoming Mrs. Von Trapp, based on some misguided principle. Not even you are that stupid. You’re doing it because you’re terrified. Terrified of being in love, terrified of being happy, terrified of waking up and realizing that the life you’ve lived for years on end was actually a shit one.” Sophie’s eyes widened, but Cal didn’t give her a chance to interrupt him. “Yes, Sophie, your life to date has been boring and small and lonely and repetitive—join the club! But if you have a chance to change that, you don’t have to just stick it out anyway, like some kind of self-inflicted punishment for being happy. That’s just twisted!”
“That’s not it!” Sophie said, her protest weakening. “Well, it’s a bit it. But it’s more than that, Cal. I mean, it’s not just him, is it? It’s a whole family, a family that’s just starting out. What if it all went really wrong with Louis, what then for the girls? Wouldn’t it be terrible if we broke up and they were in the middle of it? I couldn’t do that to them.”
“No one’s saying you should run down there and marry him. Just be together, keep it casual, see how you feel. Keep the girls posted. Let them know you’ll still love them however it works out. For once in your life, make a choice for yourself, Sophie Mills!”
Sophie considered the words she hadn’t dared to say to herself. “Am I strong enough, though?” she asked. “What if it goes wrong?”
“You’re strong enough,” Cal told her without reservation. “You’ve proved how strong you are. And anyway, I’ve got a feeling that this is a choice you won’t regret. I’m practically psychic, you know.”
“It’s a long way to go for dinner on a Friday night,” Sophie said, throwing up the last obstacle for Cal to shoot down.
“Are you happy at work, Sophie?” he asked.
“No,” she said honestly. “Not anymore.”
“Then leave,” Cal instructed her. “Rent out your flat, find a place to stay down there. Oh yes, there will be a bit of scandal here. Gillian will disapprove, and Eve will be triumphant, but what do you care? You’ll be milking a cow in the country, all blissed up and fat.”
“But this is my job, my dream job,” Sophie protested weakly. “I loved my job.”
“You said loved, past tense. And anyway, it’s not wrong for your dreams to change, you know. It’s just wrong if you don’t pursue them with every ounce of the energy and determination that’s got you this far. You’ve got money in the bank, and, I’m sure they have parties all the time in Cornwall. You could get in on that scene. Organize a pig-throwing festival or whatever it is they do down there.”
Sophie smiled. “Someone else said that to me once,” she said. “But, it’s a big risk, it’s scary.”
“Taking risks is what life is all about, Sophie,” Cal said in exasperation. “I thought you would have known that, wearing that shirt with that lipstick. Right out on a fashion limb.”
Sophie laughed and felt a sudden surge of adrenaline. “I might do it,” she said a little shakily.
“Not might,” Cal said. “Just do it.”
Sophie looked into Cal’s steady blue eyes and picked up his hand. “I’m going to do it,” she said, her eyes wide with excitement and terror. “Damn!”
“It will be wonderful,” Cal said, kissing her cheek.
“Oh, but hang on.” Sophie gripped Cal’s hand hard enough to make him wince. “What if…what if Louis is no longer interested in me?”
“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Cal said. “As if!”
Twenty-nine
It had taken a while to find the cottage Louis and the girls were renting. It was set against the steep rise of the hill about a mile out of town. A small whitewashed building, it looked as if it had weathered a hundred storms, and still stood strong.
As Sophie pulled up at the bottom of the drive, she wondered again if this had been a really bad idea. If she should have at least called first, checked out how Louis was feeling, or even if he had anything planned for the weekend. He might be out; he might be in with some Cornish beauty in his arms. The girls might not care that she was there…
Sophie suddenly wished that her mum had broken down when she had told her right after work yesterday what she was planning and begged her not to go. But instead she’d just hugged Sophie and said, “You go, darling, you do what you have to do. And if it all works out for you, you never know, maybe I’ll get my dog sanctuary down there after all.” And then she’d offered her a packet of biscuits for the journey.
As Sophie sat in the car, she wondered for the last time about the chance she was taking and how it might all go dreadfully wrong or might even go wonderfully right. Knowing that, however her decision turned out, she had to make it anyway. She stopped her compulsive speculation and took a deep breath. It was a beautiful evening, the sun lighting up the foliage around the house with a fiery halo, gilding everything with its glow.
She got out of the car and, opening the rear door, lifted a plastic carrying case carefully off the backseat, where it had been secured with a seat belt. Biting her lips, she went to the front door, but before she could ring the bell she heard voices echo in the air. Peering though the front window, she saw that Louis, Bella, and Izzy were all in the back garden. It looked as if the girls were helping Louis with some planting, although, from what Sophie could see, the gardening had recently deteriorated into an all-out mud fight and Bella and Izzy shrieked with laughter as Louis chased them around in circles, a sod of soil in each fist. For a moment, Sophie looked on at the perfect picture that made her happier and more afraid than she had ever been in her entire life.
“Well, it’s now or never,” she said.
Sophie did not know how to greet them, so for a long moment she just stood there, case in hand, watching them, her heart in her mouth. And then Izzy saw her.
“Aunty Sophieeeeeeeeeee!” she screamed and hurled her dirt-covered self at Sophie.
Setting down the case, Sophie knelt and wound her arms tightly around Izzy. “You’ve grown so much,” she said, kissing the girl’s cheeks several times.
“I know,” said Izzy proudly. “I’m nearly as tall as a giraffe.”
Then Bella was there, her arms around Sophie’s neck, kissing both her cheeks, one after the other. “You’re here again!” she said, delighted. “I knew you’d come back! It is a long visit, isn’t it?”
Sophie untangled the girls from around her and looked over their heads at Louis, who was watching her with astonishment, his hands on his hips.
“Well, maybe,” she said, gazing at him steadily. “If you want it to be.”
“We do, we do, we do!” both girls sang in unison, dancing around her.
At last Louis spoke. “Girls!” he said lightly. “Come on, you’re getting Sophie all muddy! Go and get changed into something clean and dry, okay? It’s nearly teatime anyway.”
“No!” Izzy protested. “Don’t want to!”
Bella looked from Sophie to her dad. “Yes, you do,” she said, grabbing Izzy by the arm and dragging her toward the house while tickling her so that her protest
gradually morphed into a giggling fit.
“Oh, before you go.” Sophie remembered the carrying case. She picked it up and held it out to Bella. “They don’t accept cats at the B & B I’m booked into. Will you look after Artemis for me?”
The children squealed with delight, and Bella returned to retrieve the case, carrying it carefully into the house. Amazingly, it began to purr.
Sophie stood up and smoothed her skirt. “I’m a bit of a mess,” she said, laughing nervously, not quite brave enough to look at Louis.
“A bit,” he said, taking a step closer. “Why are you here, Sophie?” he asked her gently, looking deep into her eyes. “I need to know, because I can’t—Why are you here?”
Sophie thought about the hundred or so reasons and excuses she had invented on the journey down to be near Louis without actually having to tell him why: from pretending that she’d been fired from her job to a sudden allergy to cities. But when it came to it, she realized she’d already wasted too much time.
“To be near you,” she said simply. “To be close enough to where you are to be able to go to dinner with you on a Friday night, or go for a walk on the beach with you and the girls every Sunday. To be able to be with you when there’s nothing else to think about or feel except what it’s like to be with you. To get to know you and see if I’m right about the way that you make me feel. To find out if I’m really as in love with you as I think I am.” Finally, Sophie looked up at him. “If that’s okay with you.”
Louis closed the last two steps between them in one movement and held her tightly for a long time. He kissed the top of her head and then released her a little so that he could look at her face.
“It’s definitely okay by me,” he said. “It’s more than okay.” He kissed her and kept on kissing her.
Acknowledgments
Thank you so much to the amazingly creative and always supportive Kate Elton and Georgina Hawtrey-Woore, both of whom make the editorial process such a pleasure. And to all the team at Arrow and Random House for the hard work and dedication they put in every day with unfailing enthusiasm.
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