The Story of Our Lives

by Helen Warner

Sophie shrugged. ‘It’s the obvious question.’

  Amy smiled. She worked as an events organizer, organizing events for wealthy international clients.

  ‘To be fair, that’s what I was going to ask!’ Melissa grabbed a handful of crisps and began shovelling them into her mouth one after the other.

  Amy paused, looking at each of them in turn, enjoying being the centre of attention for once. ‘Client!’

  Another chorus of squeals followed.

  ‘Is he very rich?’ All eyes turned towards Melissa in mock disgust but quickly flicked back to Amy expectantly.

  ‘Well, it depends what you mean by very rich…’ Amy wondered how honest she should be before deciding that they would only find out anyway. ‘Yes! He’s loaded!’

  ‘But is he a good person?’

  ‘Oh, Emily! Who cares if he’s a good person?’ Melissa shot Emily an incredulous look.

  ‘No, Emily’s right.’ Amy raised her hands, as if she was refereeing a boxing match. ‘It is important that he’s a nice guy…’ She paused for a second, enjoying the moment. ‘But that’s the best thing of all – he’s awesome!’

  An indecipherable sigh swept through the room as each of them digested her news. Amy’s eyes were drawn to Emily, wondering what she might be feeling. Even though she was just twenty-five, she was already a single mum to four-year-old Jack. She had fallen pregnant with him in their last term at university and as far as any of them knew, she had never had anything further to do with Jack’s father.

  She couldn’t be sure of this because none of them actually knew for certain the identity of Jack’s father. Emily had always refused to say who it was and despite years of prodding and cajoling from each of them, either collectively or individually, it had become clear that she was never going to reveal the truth. They all strongly suspected that the father was one of their lecturers but Emily wasn’t confirming or denying anything. She just flatly refused to discuss it.

  Emily noticed Amy watching her and smiled, her eyebrows raised questioningly. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

  Amy shrugged. ‘I was just wondering if you’d met anyone new? It seems such a waste someone as gorgeous as you being single.’ They had all thought it over the years but rarely voiced it, as Emily could be prickly. But it was true. She was a beautiful girl and must have had dozens of offers.

  Emily shook her head quickly, her dark eyes clouding as her shoulder-length, raven-coloured hair swished from side to side and she lowered her gaze. ‘No. I don’t have time. There’s only one man in my life and that’s Jack.’

  ‘Aw, how is the little love? Have you got any recent pictures?’ Amy was happy to change the subject.

  Immediately, Emily’s face transformed. She grabbed her large bag from the hall and rummaged in it for a minute, before pulling out a creased photo. They all cooed as they handed it around. Amy’s heart jolted as she looked at it. Jack was absolutely gorgeous. His hair was almost white-blond and long enough to look cool but short enough to stop it looking ridiculous. His full mouth, which could have given him a sulky appearance, was counteracted by the wideness of his smile, revealing perfectly white milk teeth. His eyes were a bright, piercing blue and even at four years old, it was already clear he was going to be tall.

  ‘Oh, Em, he’s really beautiful.’ Unlike the others, Amy had always yearned for children of her own, something she had told Nick on their second date and when he hadn’t run a mile, that’s when she had decided he could be the one for her.

  Emily flushed with pride and reached out to take the photo from Amy’s grasp but she hung on to it. ‘He doesn’t look like you at all…’

  ‘Well, I’m definitely his mother, if that’s what you’re suggesting – I’ve got the stretch marks to prove it!’ Emily tried to grab the photo but Amy swiped it out of her reach.

  ‘I’m just trying to think who he reminds me of…’ Amy stared hard at the photo. It was one of their old lecturers, she was sure of it. A vague memory of Emily becoming fixated on one of them – Anton, she thought it was – bubbled to the surface, but although she ran through a mental Rolodex of their faces, after four years the images were already too blurred and hazy.

  Reluctantly, she handed the photo back to Emily, who looked slightly panicked. For the millionth time, Amy wondered why she didn’t trust anyone enough to tell them the truth. Even Emily’s parents didn’t know the identity of Jack’s father and Emily had actually lived with them for the first couple of years after she left university. She had finally moved into a flat of her own but it was still close to her parents’ home in south-east London and her mum looked after Jack all the time when Emily was at work.

  ‘Anyway, Sophie,’ she said, turning her attention away from Emily. ‘Isn’t it about time you and Steve had a baby?’

  Sophie’s eyes bulged in Amy’s direction. ‘What? Where the hell did that come from? I’m only twenty-five!’

  Amy shrugged. ‘So am I but if I was in a settled relationship like you, I’d do it while I was still young. Get it out of the way like Emily did.’

  Emily spluttered on her Cava. ‘Christ! I don’t think anyone should follow my example… I love Jack to distraction but it’s been bloody hard from day one. Given the choice I would definitely wait until I had established my career and was a lot more secure financially.’

  ‘But you haven’t got a partner like Sophie ha—’ Amy tailed off in embarrassment as she realized too late how tactless her words sounded.

  ‘No. I don’t have a partner. Thank you for pointing that out, Amy.’ Emily looked suddenly furious.

  ‘I’m sure Amy didn’t mean it like that.’ Sophie shot Amy a warning look as she spoke. ‘No, I’m not planning babies any time soon, thanks, Amy. Anyway, we’re not even married,’ she added.

  ‘What’s your name? Jane Austen?’ Amy teased and a low snigger of amusement emitted from Melissa.

  ‘No, it’s just…’ Sophie stood up and scrunched her long chestnut hair distractedly into a ponytail. She looked flustered. ‘Well, I can’t imagine what it must be like to throw away the condoms and actually plan to make a baby. We’ve all spent so many years trying desperately not to get pregnant after what happened to Em… Sorry, Em, but you know what I mean, don’t you?’

  Emily nodded, slightly wearily.

  Amy’s head whirled with thoughts of Nick. She tried not to get too carried away – after all, they had only been dating for four months. But already she could picture them as parents. Nick was so protective of her and caring. He made her feel special in a way that no one ever had before. She knew she didn’t have the wit or the brains or the personality that the others had. She was the quiet one who hated any kind of confrontation and would go along with what everyone else wanted to do in order to keep the peace. But Nick seemed to find her captivating and hung on her every word. He wanted to spend every waking minute with her and told her he couldn’t get enough of her. She loved it.

  She wondered idly whether their children would inherit her auburn hair and green eyes or Nick’s swarthy dark good looks, hoping it would be the latter. He was such a beautiful man – even thinking about him now made her feel weak with longing. She had had many boyfriends in the past but Nick was different. Special. She already felt that he was ‘the one’.

  ‘Do you think you and Steve will get married then?’ Emily interrupted the silence, cutting through Amy’s daydream.

  All eyes locked on to Sophie, who seemed to quail slightly as she spoke: ‘Uh… maybe. I’ve never really thought about it.’

  ‘Oh, you should!’ Amy clapped her hands together several times, excitement bubbling up inside her. ‘It would be so fantastic to have a wedding to go to. I could bring Nick…’ She left the thought hanging tantalizingly in the air, imagining already what she might wear, how perfect Nick would look in a morning suit.

  ‘Well, I’m not planning to get married just so that you lot can have a day out.’ Sophie frowned at Amy. ‘And you need to stop daydreaming, Amy. Y
ou’ll frighten him off if you’re too keen.’

  Amy grinned. ‘I can’t help it. You know what I’m like. And it hasn’t frightened him off so far.’

  ‘True. But then, he hasn’t met me yet!’ Melissa stood up and stretched languorously, showing off her toned, brown-skinned belly as she did so. Amy laughed, though a tiny prickle of nervousness passed through her. Melissa was a legendary flirt. But despite her sexiness and beauty, she had never enjoyed anything more than flings and one-night stands. Men never seemed to stick around. And she didn’t think Melissa was Nick’s type anyway. He was always telling Amy how much he loved her because she was so unusual, with her long, slim legs, mane of red hair and dazzling green eyes. She could easily have been a successful model but standing and posing in front of a lens had never interested her. She was too dreamy. Too creative. If anything, she wanted to be the one holding the camera.

  ‘Anyway, girls, enough of this nonsense. I’m starving.’ Melissa threw Amy a pleading look. ‘Amy, get a move on and cook our dinner.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  The next morning an early haze burned quickly away to reveal a cloudless blue sky. Emily’s leg muscles throbbed as she pounded along the beach. Running on sand was so much harder than jogging through the park near her London flat. But the salty sea air, the warmth of the sun on her skin and the gentle lapping of the waves on the shoreline were like a balm to her soul and spurred her on to keep running. Every step helped to clear her head a little more after drinking far too much last night. She hadn’t drunk that much in years. Since before Jack was born.

  Seeing the others was always a bittersweet experience – it churned up so many mixed feelings. Most of all, it made her long to turn back time to their first year of university when they were all living together in the same halls of residence, young and clueless before life got in the way.

  Sophie and Melissa had shared a room, while Emily and Amy had occupied the single rooms either side of them. Naturally, Melissa and Sophie were particularly close, meaning Amy and Emily also paired off. But from the start, the four of them were a tight unit. Emily had loved those days. Looking back through the prism of time, they seemed so carefree and untroubled – when problems weren’t really problems at all. They were just excuses for tearful dramas, followed by whole nights sitting up drinking and talking until dawn, dissecting and condemning whoever might have slighted one of them.

  Those were Emily’s last memories of being truly happy. After that first year, when they all went their separate ways, everything changed. Sophie moved in with Steve, while Amy and Melissa shared a flat. They asked Emily to move in with them but she chose to stay in halls.

  She never told the others the real reason she wanted to be close to the university but she sometimes wondered if they guessed. Anton was her tutor and over the course of her first year, Emily had grown increasingly attracted to him. In his late thirties, he was tall, tanned, blond and devastatingly charming. He was also devastatingly married with two young children.

  Emily told herself that it was just a crush and that nothing could ever happen between them but however hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to contain her feelings for him. In fact, with each passing month, they grew stronger until he had become something of an obsession. She would find excuses to spend extra time with him, citing the need to go over her last essay in greater detail or to discuss a new theory she had about a particular author. Just being alone with him was enough.

  Anton seemed impressed by her dedication to her studies and certainly didn’t discourage her from asking for more help. Over time she convinced herself that the attraction was mutual.

  The others would sometimes tease her and call her a swot or a teacher’s pet but they never actually asked if there was anything going on between them. The closest they came was when Melissa had wondered aloud whether it was Anton that was the attraction, rather than the Breton Lays in Middle English. Emily had laughed it off, pointing out that even if she did think Anton was very attractive, she would never make a move on a) a married man or b) her tutor. ‘I would get the blame and I’d be thrown off the course.’

  Melissa had pondered this for a moment. ‘He’d be blamed too. He could lose his post.’

  ‘Well, it’s a good job there’s nothing going on then, isn’t it?’ Emily had countered, relieved to have been able to deny it so categorically.

  After that, it was never mentioned again, and Emily was able to indulge her obsession without being questioned. Her results improved and she was seen as the top student in her year, destined for a first-class degree, followed by a big career.

  ‘It’s down to you,’ she told Anton, when she gained the highest marks in her exams at the end of the second year.

  Anton had smiled the slightly crooked smile that she had spent so many nights dreaming about and reached out to take her hand. Emily’s heart banged in her chest, wondering if this was the moment he would finally admit his feelings for her.

  ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’

  She nodded, her mouth too dry to speak.

  ‘I’m leaving.’

  Emily blinked. She must have misheard. It wasn’t possible.

  ‘Leaving?’

  Anton nodded. ‘I’ve got a new job. In Durham. I won’t be back next term.’ He was looking at her earnestly. Apologetically.

  Emily’s thoughts lurched ahead to her third year, stretching out before her like a barren wasteland. He had to reconsider. ‘What about me?’ she said, realizing as the words left her lips how childish they sounded.

  ‘You’ll be fine!’ He squeezed her hand, his eyes holding hers. ‘You’re doing so well. Just keep it up and you’ll get the first you deserve.’

  ‘I don’t care about a bloody first!’ Emily spat, her thoughts tumbling furiously over one another.

  Anton dropped her hand and cleared his throat. ‘Look, Emily, you’ve worked so hard. Don’t blow it now.’

  Emily gazed at him in disbelief. As she did so, it dawned on her that this was a common scenario for Anton. Students fell for him all the time. Of course they did. He was gorgeous. She wasn’t the first and she wouldn’t be the last. The realization hit her like a sledgehammer blow.

  ‘All this time, you must have been laughing at me—’

  ‘No!’ The vehemence of Anton’s denial made her catch her breath. ‘No,’ he repeated. ‘I have never laughed at you. I, well, if things had been different…’ He left the words hanging in the air between them.

  ‘Don’t.’ Emily stood up and smoothed down her jeans, swallowing back the tears that were thick in her throat. ‘Just… don’t.’

  Anton watched her as she gathered her bags together. His pale blue eyes glittered slightly but he didn’t speak.

  ‘Well. Thank you. Good luck in your new job.’ Her words sounded forced. Which is what they were.

  ‘Thank you, Emily. Good luck with the rest of your course. I look forward to reading your first novel one day.’

  ‘Yeah. Right.’ Emily threw him a final glance over her shoulder before closing the door behind her.

  It would be almost a year before she saw him again.

  AUGUST 1998

  ‘President Bill Clinton has given a nationally televised statement, in which he admits that he had an “improper physical relationship” with White House intern Monica Lewinsky, and that it was “not appropriate”.’

  WHITSTABLE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Melissa opened the bottle of champagne with a practised pop and expertly poured some into each of the four glasses she had lined up on the granite worktop.

  ‘Not for me, thanks.’ Sophie wouldn’t look at Melissa as she spoke, turning away from her and perching on one of the stools lined up against the breakfast bar.

  ‘What? You’re joking, aren’t you? I’ve known you for eight years now and you’ve never once turned down champagne.’

  ‘I’m not feeling great, to be honest.’

  Melissa’s antennae prickled. Someti
mes she thought she knew Sophie better than she knew herself. Something was very wrong and she did indeed look like death.

  After a moment spent staring at Sophie’s back, Melissa quickly drained Sophie’s glass and put it in the sink. Then she picked up two glasses and handed them out to Amy and Emily who were sitting at the pretty cloth-covered wooden table by the window. They were chatting animatedly and hadn’t noticed the exchange between Sophie and Melissa.

  ‘Here’s to Amy and Nick!’ Melissa interrupted, striding into the middle of the room with her own full champagne flute aloft.

  Sophie scuttled to the cupboard and retrieved a wine glass, which she quickly filled with tap water. Melissa pretended not to see.

  Amy, wearing a short, floaty green dress that showed off her long, toned legs and matched her vivid eyes perfectly, stood up and twirled in delight, sending her long auburn hair swinging behind her.

  Melissa watched her, envy scorching through her like heartburn as she raised her glass to toast Amy’s engagement. Nick had proposed to her during a romantic weekend in Capri. According to Amy, he had waited until they had arrived by chairlift at the top of a mountain before bending down on one knee and producing a stunning antique diamond ring. He was rich, he was so handsome it was almost comical and he was madly in love with Amy.

  Melissa couldn’t understand why she felt so envious. She had no desire to settle down and anyway, she hadn’t met anyone she would want to settle down with. Yet Amy’s happiness and radiance made her feel as though she had somehow failed.

  How different Amy’s life suddenly seemed to the others’, having all travelled down such wildly contrasting paths since their weekend away last year. Emily was still scrimping and struggling to support herself and Jack alone; Sophie seemed to have lost her natural sparkle and disappeared into her own melancholy world and Melissa’s love life was non-existent. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. Melissa’s sex life was excellent. It was just that there wasn’t much love involved in any of her liaisons, mainly because the men she slept with were usually married, or in long-term relationships. She told herself that she didn’t care: she was young and she was having fun. She dismissed the niggling voice whispering in her ear in the middle of the night that sex, however good, was no replacement for love. Nor was it actually very much fun.