The Story of Our Lives

by Helen Warner

  Sophie watched Steve’s face. The emotion was written in every line and crease of his skin. His mouth was slightly open and she could see his lip quivering. She tried to catch his eye to give him a reassuring smile, but he was staring at Amy in shock.

  ‘So, I’ve found a house,’ Amy continued, her cheeks reddening as she spoke, all the while concentrating on making the cups of tea. ‘And I’ve put an offer in.’ She glanced up briefly.

  Sophie felt Steve’s shoulders sag, as his whole body seemed to deflate. ‘Hear her out,’ Sophie urged, giving his hand a squeeze.

  Amy smiled to herself. ‘We won’t be going far… in fact, I’d say we’ll probably see just as much of you as we do now.’

  Steve frowned and shook his head. ‘I doubt that.’ He sounded utterly despondent.

  ‘That’s what I said. But she’s right…’ Sophie motioned to Amy to continue.

  ‘Because the house I’ve put in an offer for… is the house next door!’ Amy finished with a flourish.

  There was a short pause before Steve burst out laughing. ‘Ah, well, maybe that’s not such a bad idea after all.’

  Amy beamed proudly. ‘And I’m going to set up my own catering business and Melissa thinks Mark Bailey will be my first celebrity client… and I’m going to hire a nanny who can look after my kids and yours so that you can carry on working…’ Amy stopped. ‘I’m gabbling. Sorry. I’m just excited.’ She gave Sophie and Steve an apologetic look.

  ‘Don’t be sorry. It’s great. Really great.’ Steve walked over and gave Amy a hug. ‘I’m proud of you.’

  ‘So how was the weekend?’ Steve asked, as they finally got into bed that night.

  Sophie wrapped her arms around his bare chest and kissed him. ‘It was good but I missed you.’

  ‘Liar!’ he laughed, kissing her back.

  ‘Actually, Emily had to dash off early this morning. Apparently Jack had some kind of accident and was in hospital.’

  ‘Really? Is he hurt?’

  Sophie shook her head. ‘Not badly, thank God. He got knocked off his bike. Few bumps and bruises, I think.’

  ‘Phew.’ Steve visibly relaxed.

  ‘I love that you’re so concerned about him, Steve. You’re such a good man. Better than his real dad, that’s for sure.’

  Steve looked at her quizzically. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Anton. Emily discovered that he was still married. It’s hit her very hard. Actually, I suspected it all along but didn’t want to say anything in case I was wrong.’

  Steve nodded. ‘I vaguely remember him from university. He seemed a bit of a creep back then. God knows why she got involved with him.’

  ‘Anyway, forget about him,’ Sophie began, snuggling into him. ‘Amy said something while we were away that’s made me think a lot about you and me.’

  ‘Really?’ Steve looked instantly nervous. ‘What did she say?’

  Sophie looked up at him, wondering why they hadn’t had this conversation years ago. ‘She said we should get married.’

  ‘Oh, did she now?’ Steve matched her jokey tone. ‘And what did you say to that?’

  ‘I said that you’d never asked me.…’

  Steve smiled his long, slow, sexy smile. ‘I’m sure I must have asked you.…’

  ‘Nope.’ Sophie shook her head. She was smiling but she could feel the tears welling up behind her eyes. She had never admitted it before, but she did feel a deeply buried sense of disappointment that he hadn’t ever asked her. To begin with, she was just grateful that they were together, when they could so easily have broken up. But as the years went by, the yearning to formalize their commitment grew, especially once the children were born.

  ‘Well, you’ve never asked me either.…’ Steve gave her a searching look.

  Sophie shrugged. ‘I know, but maybe I’m a bit old-fashioned like that. Maybe I think it should be the man who proposes.’

  ‘Oh, really? You’re not exactly a typical little housewife, Soph. I’m the one at home with the kids while you go out to work and earn all the money. Why shouldn’t you be the one to ask me?’

  There was a long pause as Sophie thought about it. ‘What would you say? If I did ask you?’

  Steve smiled again, making her heart swell. ‘Why don’t you ask me and find out?’

  Sophie let out a low squeal of excitement. ‘Do you want me to get down on one knee?’

  He laughed. ‘Of course…’

  Sophie rolled her eyes but climbed out of bed and walked around to his side. She dropped to one knee and took his hand in hers, trying not to giggle. ‘Will you, Steve Montgomery, marry me?’

  Steve beamed at her in delight. ‘How could I possibly turn down a naked proposal from the woman I love?’

  Sophie glanced down. She had completely forgotten she was naked. ‘Is that a yes?’

  Steve lifted the duvet and climbed out of bed. He pushed her gently down onto the rug she was kneeling on and kissed her. ‘As Mark Bailey might say on his talent show, “It’s a great big yes from me.”’

  JUNE 2007

  ‘Police in Portugal say they are continuing to follow up leads in the search for four-year-old British girl Madeleine McCann, who went missing from the family’s apartment in Praia de Luz last month.’

  BEVERLY HILLS, LOS ANGELES

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Emily gazed unseeingly out of the car window, her mind whirring. She was in the back seat with Amy, while Sophie and Melissa were in the front. Melissa was driving, as she had done all weekend. It was impressive how well she knew her way around LA – she looked and acted like a native, which wasn’t surprising considering how much time she spent here. Emily felt pretty certain Melissa would end up living here permanently one day fairly soon.

  They were on the Pacific Coast Highway, heading for Malibu. The view was breathtaking, with the road hugging the miles and miles of wide, golden, sandy beaches bordering the deep blue ocean with its rolling waves crashing relentlessly onto the shore.

  It had been an almost perfect day. They had enjoyed breakfast by the pool, before lazing in the sunshine reading for a couple of hours. Then Melissa had driven them to Santa Monica, where she had booked lunch for them at a breathtakingly pretty Plantation-style hotel right on the beach. Now they were heading for Malibu where Melissa had decided that they should try their hand at surfing. Emily hadn’t had the heart to remind her that she couldn’t swim.

  She had tried to throw herself into the weekend but it was so, so hard. Every time she started to relax and enjoy herself, a heavy swell of dread would rise up inside her, reminding her that everything was essentially meaningless until Jack got well again.

  ‘Leukaemia?’ Sophie repeated, unable to compute what Emily had just said. ‘How can a healthy thirteen-year-old boy have leukaemia? That just doesn’t seem possible.’

  Emily blew her nose. ‘I know. I keep hoping there’s been some kind of terrible mistake but there hasn’t.’

  They were sitting opposite each other in a busy coffee bar near Emily’s flat in south-east London. She had called Sophie a week after they got back from their weekend away and said she needed to talk. Sophie knew instantly it was something serious but she had had no idea just how bad.

  ‘But there’s been such progress, hasn’t there? In the treatment available now? The prognosis must be good?’ Sophie tried to sound upbeat, despite her shock. She was already mentally rolling through the back-catalogue of films she had made about children with cancer, to try to recall some of the positive stories.

  Emily shrugged. She looked worn out and seemed to have aged several years in just one short week. There were purple shadows under her dark eyes and her normally olive skin had a grey tinge. ‘It’s amazing how quickly you become an expert when you’re faced with it. They do seem pretty positive and obviously he’s in the best place,’ she said, her voice beginning to wobble, before she covered her face with her hands and began to sob again.

  Sophie watched her, feeling utterly
helpless. ‘Will he have chemo?’

  Emily gathered herself and wiped her face with her tissue, which had long since disintegrated. She fished in her bag for another before replying. ‘Yes. Hopefully that will be enough.’

  Sophie took Emily’s hand in hers. It felt cold and clammy. ‘What can I do to help? What can any of us do? Just say the word.’

  Emily took a deep, shuddery breath. ‘You can visit him. I think he’s already getting bored of just me, Mum and Dad.’ She gave Sophie a watery smile. ‘And I don’t know if you think it’s right for the kids to come but I think he’d really like that…?’

  Sophie nodded vigorously. ‘Of course. And what about when he gets out of hospital? Do you want to come and stay with us?’

  Emily shook her head. ‘Thanks, Soph, but there’s no need. We’ll be fine at our flat.’

  Sophie pictured Emily bringing Jack home to their cramped conversion flat, which required two steep flights of stairs to reach their front door. It seemed like a very bleak prospect. ‘Listen, now that Amy and the kids are moving out, we’ll have loads of room. You know how much Emma adores Jack. It might do them both good.’ She gave Emily an encouraging smile. She desperately wanted to help in some way.

  ‘But it wouldn’t be fair on Steve…’ Emily began to protest.

  ‘I know Steve and I know that he’d be happy to help. We all would,’ she added. ‘Please, Em, give it some thought?’

  Emily took another deep breath. ‘OK. I’ll think about it.’

  ‘And how are you bearing up?’ Sophie searched Emily’s face, thinking how desperately tired she looked. It wasn’t surprising. After all, she had had two massive shocks in the space of a week.

  Emily smiled wanly. ‘I’m OK. And I suppose there is one good thing to come out of all this…’

  Sophie shook her head in admiration. How anyone could find an upside to such an awful situation was beyond her. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’s made me get over the Anton situation quicker than I would ever have imagined… It certainly puts everything into perspective.’

  ‘Have you heard from him?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Emily tutted and rolled her eyes. ‘He’s left various voicemails begging my forgiveness. Claims he’s confessed all to his wife and is moving out. Can’t live without me, apparently.’

  Sophie smiled, relieved that Emily was able to laugh about it. It was just over a week since she had cried that she would never, ever get over him. ‘Have you returned any of the calls?’

  ‘Nope.’ Emily looked up, her expression defiant. ‘I honestly don’t care if I never see Anton Massey again.’

  Sophie thought, but didn’t say, that she might have no choice in the matter. If Jack needed a bone-marrow transplant, his father could be a match. She mentally batted away the thought. Hopefully, it wouldn’t ever come to that.

  He had seemed to be making such good progress initially. The doctors smiled when they spoke to her and told her that the signs were positive. And Jack really had seemed to be improving. He had struggled with losing his hair but it was already growing back, curlier and darker than before, but growing nonetheless.

  They had taken Sophie up on her offer to move in temporarily with her and Steve in Richmond. In truth, it was less of an offer and more of an order. Emily had been reluctant but Sophie had insisted. And Jack had given her such a pleading look when she told him, that she just couldn’t refuse. He had been through too much already. She didn’t want to deny him anything that could help his recovery.

  But even before the doctors confirmed it, she knew that he had had a relapse. She could sense it, even without the physical clues. She could tell just from looking into his eyes and from the slightly strange feel of his skin. Chemotherapy alone wasn’t enough to cure him, they said. He needed a bone-marrow transplant.

  She hadn’t yet told the others. She didn’t want to spoil Sophie’s hen weekend. But the knowledge was weighing heavily on her and she felt as though she was permanently on the brink of buckling under the strain.

  ‘A sibling,’ said Jack’s ridiculously young-looking consultant, when Emily and her mum met with him, ‘would provide the best match.’

  Emily’s mum’s eyes had widened in despair. ‘But he hasn’t got any siblings!’ she cried, her face crumpling as she dissolved into tears, before looking at Emily with a confused expression. ‘Has he, Emily?’

  Emily stayed dry-eyed, although her stomach lurched and her heart began to race, as the implications of what the consultant was saying began to sink in. ‘Is that…?’ she began, clearing her throat nervously. ‘Is that the only option?’

  The consultant shook his head. ‘No. It’s not the only option. But it is the best option. If he doesn’t have any siblings…’ he continued, eyeing Emily, as if he sensed that maybe that might not be the case, ‘we will test all other family members for a match. If we don’t find one in the family, he will go on the national register and we may well find a match from a stranger. There are still plenty of options left open to us.’ He finished with a reassuring smile.

  Emily nodded. She liked this consultant and trusted him. She turned to her mum, who had recovered her composure and was desperately trying to put on a brave face. ‘Mum, would you mind if I had a chat with Mr Carmichael alone?’

  A brief flicker of doubt passed across her mum’s face before she nodded furiously. ‘Of course, of course!’

  Emily waited until her mum had gathered up her handbag and left the room before she addressed the consultant again. ‘If…’ She paused, trying to work out how to phrase what she wanted to say. ‘If someone was a match because they were a relative – a sibling for example…’

  The consultant nodded briefly and Emily could tell from his expression that he had seen and heard all of this before. It was probably an all-too-common occurrence.

  ‘Would they be able to donate without having to be told they were a relative? Or without anyone else in the family having to be told?’

  ‘They wouldn’t have to be told,’ the consultant replied without missing a beat. He had definitely done this before. ‘But we would strongly recommend that they be told. Ultimately, the decision is that of the parents.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I understand that you are not in a relationship with Jack’s biological father – is that right?’

  Emily nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘And am I to take it from your earlier question that he doesn’t know that he is the biological father?’

  Emily hesitated before answering. ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘Right.’ The consultant pursed his lips. ‘Do you have any contact with him at all? Any way of getting in touch with him?’

  Emily took a deep breath. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘If it’s absolutely necessary, I know where he is. I could get in contact with him.’

  The consultant nodded slowly. ‘Does he have any other children that you know of? Obviously I’m thinking that they might provide a sibling match for Jack.’

  Emily looked down at her lap. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Two.’

  ‘In that case, I would strongly recommend telling him. Those two children represent the best chance for your son’s recovery.’

  Emily watched the others from the beach, envying them their carefree laughter. She sometimes wondered if she would ever laugh again. She could feel her mood getting darker by the hour and even the breathtaking beauty of her surroundings couldn’t lift it. Not being able to swim had been a handy excuse to duck out of surfing but the truth was that even if she could, she wouldn’t have been able to bring herself to join in the fun.

  Sophie was a surprisingly good surfer. While Amy and Melissa tipped off their boards and slipped under the frothy, rolling waves time and time again, Sophie was able to ride the surf all the way to the shore. Emily felt a sudden spike of jealousy shoot through her as she watched Sophie wading back out to join the others, who were floundering about in the deeper water, trying to get back on their boards.

  Life always seemed to go right
for Sophie. She was rich; she had a highly successful career; she was about to marry the man she loved and most of all, she had two perfect, healthy, happy children. It just didn’t seem fair. For a split second, she felt only pure hatred for her. How had she managed to get it so wrong and Sophie get it so right?

  As if she sensed her watching, Sophie surfed into the shore and scooped her board under her arm, before walking up the beach to join Emily. She dropped down onto the sand beside her and ran her hand through her long, wet hair. They didn’t speak for a while, as they watched Amy and Melissa tumbling into the water time after time.

  ‘They’re hopeless, aren’t they?’ Emily continued to stare straight ahead. ‘Not like you. You’re a pro.’

  Sophie laughed. ‘Not quite. But growing up in Northern Ireland beside those amazing beaches meant you didn’t have much of an excuse not to learn. It’s a lot bloody colder there though – at least here the sea’s warm and the sun’s shining.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Emily agreed, looking around her, trying to draw some enjoyment from the beauty of it all. But it was as if she was inside some kind of invisible bubble. She could see it all, but she couldn’t feel it.

  ‘I know this weekend has been hard for you,’ Sophie said, throwing Emily a sideways look. ‘But I’m so glad you came. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.’

  Emily immediately felt bad about her earlier unkind thoughts towards Sophie. She was a good person and it wasn’t her fault that she had led such a charmed life, while Emily staggered from one crisis to another. ‘I’m sorry I’m not more fun.’

  ‘Completely understandable.’ Sophie paused for a moment before continuing. ‘Look, I’ve been thinking, Em. Would you like us to postpone the wedding? Just until Jack’s fully recovered and you’re feeling a bit brighter?’

  ‘God, no. Of course not.’ Despite herself, Emily was touched. Sophie was so giving, so unselfish, that she would even consider delaying her wedding to make Emily feel better. ‘You two have waited long enough already. I don’t want you to put it off any more.’