The Story of Our Lives

by Helen Warner

  Melissa’s expression softened. ‘I know. But I’m not sure if things will ever be the same again, after the way she deceived us. All of us.’

  ‘Things won’t ever be the same again.’ Sophie gave a tired smile. ‘But they’ll certainly be more truthful. There have been too many secrets between us. At least now we can be open and honest. And Emily will need us more than ever if…’ She shook her head irritably. ‘No, I’m not even going to contemplate that. But she will definitely need us.’

  Melissa sighed. ‘I know you’re right but… OK. I’ll try my best.’

  Sophie lifted her glass and took a sip of wine, before placing it back on the table. ‘Let’s change the subject. How are things going with Mark?’

  Melissa frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Oh, come on, Melissa! What have I just said? No more secrets.’

  Melissa eyed Sophie warily. ‘But I thought you might be angry?’

  Sophie rolled her eyes. ‘I’m not angry. I’ve known for ages. It’s just that I worry about you getting hurt. I love Mark but I know what he’s like…’

  ‘Well, there’s nothing going on anyway. Not any more.’ Melissa’s bottom lip quivered dangerously.

  ‘Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry.’ Sophie reached across and squeezed Melissa’s hand. She wanted to reassure her, to tell her that Mark would see sense and come running back to her. But she didn’t, because she knew it wasn’t true. ‘When did he break it off with you?’

  ‘He didn’t,’ Melissa murmured, causing Sophie to frown in confusion.

  ‘So, you’re still seeing him?’

  Melissa shook her head. ‘No. I told him it was over in Ireland. On the morning of the wedding.’

  Sophie sat back, remembering. Normally, Melissa and Mark were together all the time but now that she thought about it, they had pointedly ignored each other all day, although she had noticed Melissa staring at him several times. ‘How did he take it?’

  Melissa shrugged. ‘You know what Mark’s like. He was upset for about ten minutes.’

  ‘You did the right thing, Liss. I know how hard it must have been…’ She could see that Melissa was struggling not to cry. ‘But there was no chance of a long-term future with him. He’s too much of a free spirit.’

  Melissa nodded. ‘Yup.’

  Sophie leaned forward again. ‘Listen, you are so beautiful, Melissa. And you are such a great person. You deserve to find someone to settle down with. Someone to have kids with…’

  Melissa’s eyes filled. ‘It’s not going to happen, Soph. Not now. I’m too old, anyway.’

  ‘No!’ Sophie protested. ‘You’re only thirty-five… There’s still plenty of time.’

  ‘Not really.’ Melissa’s voice was despondent and her tiny shoulders were hunched forward in resignation. ‘There aren’t many single men my age and by the time I find one who is, who wants to settle down and have kids with me, it’ll definitely be too late.’ Sophie wished she could deny it. Reassure her that there were plenty of men who would want someone as gorgeous, vibrant and lovely as her to settle down with, but she couldn’t. It would be a lie.

  ‘You are so lucky that you found Steve when you did.’ Melissa looked up at Sophie. ‘I used to think it was so boring, for you to have stayed with the same man all those years…’ She gave Sophie a sheepish smile. ‘But I’d give anything to swap with you now.’

  A lump formed in Sophie’s throat as Melissa finished speaking. She was right. Whatever had happened between her and Steve, whatever the rights and wrongs of each situation, they had stuck together through it all. In some ways, the hard times had made them even stronger. She knew without even the tiniest hint of doubt in her mind, that whatever happened in the future, whatever challenges they faced, they would face them together.

  FIVE YEARS LATER AUGUST 2012

  ‘The London 2012 Olympics have ended with a spectacular musical closing ceremony and the official handover to the next host city, Rio de Janeiro.’

  CAPRI, ITALY

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  ‘That’s where Nick proposed to me. Right there…’ Amy pointed to a viewing platform on a cliff edge that plunged sharply down towards the whitewashed houses of Capri, nestling above the sparkling blue Mediterranean Sea.

  Sophie followed her gaze. ‘I remember you telling us now. I’d forgotten that it was here. It must be difficult, being back…’

  Amy shook out her long auburn hair, still remarkably untouched by grey and gleaming under the rays of the hot Italian sun. ‘No. It’s cathartic, actually. Makes me realize that my marriage wasn’t all bad. There were times when we were happy.’

  Sophie gave a neutral nod. Even after all these years, she couldn’t bring herself to think of Nick in anything like a positive way. Yet Amy could. Amy, who had almost been killed by him. ‘You’re amazing,’ she said.

  Amy closed her eyes and turned her face up towards the sun. ‘Yup, that’s me. Amazing Amy.’

  Sophie watched her admiringly. At forty years old, she looked at least ten years younger and was completely comfortable in her own skin, which was also still flawless. Her business was thriving and she now employed eight people, meaning she had had to learn how to be a boss. To everyone’s surprise, she had discovered that she had a talent for managing people and as a result, her confidence had soared.

  She was a wonderful mother to Megan and George, neither of whom showed any sign of the trauma that had tainted their early lives. Megan would soon be starting secondary school and had blossomed from a timid, anxious child into a confident, happy girl. Both children still spent a lot of time with Sophie and Steve, sometimes popping in to pick up something they’d forgotten and not leaving for days on end.

  Sophie didn’t mind. It gave Amy and Dean the chance to have some time alone together. ‘Do you think you’ll get married again?’ she asked now.

  Amy smiled and shook her head. ‘No! I love Dean. And he loves me. But we’re happy just the way we are.’

  ‘Not even…?’ Sophie nodded towards Amy’s rounded stomach.

  Amy cradled her small bump affectionately. ‘No. I want things to be completely different this time. Although the baby will definitely have Dean’s surname. That’s enough for him.’

  Sophie couldn’t help smiling. Amy’s happiness was infectious. She had waited a long time for this baby and had almost given up hope. But just as they were starting to investigate IVF, she had conceived naturally. Both she and Sophie had burst into tears of joy when she told her the news. After all that she had been through, it felt like the happy ending she deserved.

  Sophie stretched, enjoying the feel of the hot sun on her skin. It had been such a busy year so far, so she was making the most of this weekend. It was the first weekend away with the girls in five long years. None of them had felt ready before now. Too much had happened. But now seemed like the right time and the wedding had given them the perfect excuse.

  She and Amy had snuck away after breakfast, wanting to get some peace and quiet. Some respite before the real madness began.

  They had taken an open-top taxi from Capri town centre, up to Anacapri, a smaller town further up the mountain. Once there, Amy had led them to a rickety-looking chairlift that carried them in single chairs, right to the very top of the mountain. It was still relatively early, so there weren’t many other people around yet and the views were breathtaking. From Sophie’s seat, she could see right across the bay of Naples, towards Vesuvius in all its smouldering glory. ‘This is perfect, Amy. Can’t we just stay here all day?’

  Amy laughed. ‘I wish! No, we’d better think about getting back.’ She looked at her watch. ‘There’s only a couple of hours to go before the main event.’

  ‘Spoilsport!’ Sophie teased, but she was already getting up. ‘I suppose you’re right. That is the reason we’re here, after all.’

  Melissa smoothed down her dress for the tenth time. ‘I look so fat!’ she wailed, looking disdainfully at her reflection in the huge, ornate mirror in
her suite.

  ‘I wish I looked that fat!’ Sophie said, standing behind Melissa and motioning towards the mirror. ‘You’re at least half my size.’

  Melissa gave a sheepish grin. ‘Sorry. Do you think I look OK? Really?’ She spun around so that she was facing Sophie, looking up at her with a pleading expression.

  Sophie shook her head. ‘No, Melissa, you do not look OK. You look…’ she continued quickly, as Melissa’s face crumpled in dismay, ‘you look absolutely, stunningly, ravishingly beautiful.’

  Melissa’s delicate features and tiny frame had blossomed over the past couple of years. Her pregnancy had left her with more curves, even though her flat stomach had snapped back into shape after giving birth just six months previously. Her smooth, dark skin was glowing and her hair now hung in thick, shiny ringlets to her shoulders. ‘He is a very lucky man.’

  Melissa’s twinkling brown eyes dulled slightly and she looked away, the pain of what had happened never very far from the surface.

  Melissa glanced down as her mobile began to vibrate silently in her open handbag. She could see from the screen that it was Sophie. She reached down discreetly to switch it off, hoping that no one had noticed. She was in a pitch meeting with the network. It was the biggest one she had had since joining this production company, pitching for a new multi-million-pound Saturday-night entertainment show, and she didn’t want to screw it up.

  She had felt that she had no choice but to leave Merlin, even though both Sophie and Mark begged her not to. Working with him was just too painful and too dangerous. She knew in her heart that she wouldn’t be able to resist him if they continued to work so closely together.

  So she had handed in her notice and very quickly landed a job with another production company, Tightrope Productions, as head of entertainment. It was a great company and it was a great job. But it wasn’t the same. Melissa missed working with Sophie. And most of all, she missed Mark.

  At first, she compensated for his loss by following his every move on Twitter and on Mailonline, even though it made her feel physically sick every time she saw him being photographed with yet another glamorous woman on his arm. He was a global megastar, whose every move was well documented, so it was easy to keep tabs on him.

  But as she settled into her new job, she began to search for his name less and less frequently, until she was only looking him up a couple of times a month. And then she met Pete, which is when she stopped looking altogether.

  Pete was a comedy producer at Tightrope and was the exact opposite of Mark. He was exceptionally tall – well over six foot – with a shock of messy black hair and a chiselled, craggy face. Everyone, Melissa included, assumed he was gay, as he had never been known to have a girlfriend, and he was almost pathologically private.

  But one night, when they were working late together on a new show, he suddenly asked her if she would ever consider going out to dinner with him.

  Melissa had looked up at him in surprise. ‘Sure. Do you mean just the two of us?’

  Pete had looked around him theatrically at the empty office. ‘Um, yes. That’s usually the case on a date, isn’t it?’

  ‘A date?’ Melissa had blurted out the words before she could stop herself. ‘Like, a romantic date?’

  Pete smiled and Melissa felt her stomach give a tiny flip, noticing for the first time just how sexy his full mouth was. ‘Yes, Melissa, a romantic date.’ He rolled the ‘r’ as he spoke, making her laugh out loud.

  ‘I don’t…’ Melissa hesitated for a second. Pete was such a lovely guy and she suspected it had taken a lot of courage for him to ask. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings. ‘I don’t get involved with people at work. It can make things too difficult if it goes wrong.’ She didn’t tell him about Mark because she assumed, like most people, that he already knew. She had thought they were always discreet but apparently their relationship was an open secret in the industry.

  Pete nodded. ‘I agree. So let’s only “get involved”…’ he made speech marks in the air with his fingers, ‘when we’re not at work.’

  Melissa laughed again. There was something so refreshing about him. And, more importantly, he couldn’t be more different to Mark. Maybe he was just what she needed right now. ‘OK.’

  ‘Great.’ Pete fixed her with his dark eyes, which were shining with mischief. ‘In that case, how about we skip dinner and just move straight to the sex bit?’

  Melissa giggled. Something told her this one wasn’t going to be a one-night stand.

  As soon as the meeting finished, she rang Sophie back. ‘Did you get my voicemail?’ Sophie was already speaking before Melissa could even say ‘hello’. Her voice sounded panicky, which was unlike her.

  ‘No. I was in a meeting. Why?’ She motioned to the others to go on ahead without her. ‘I’ll meet you back at the office,’ she mouthed.

  ‘Have you heard about Mark?’

  The tone of Sophie’s voice instantly made Melissa’s stomach drop. ‘No. What about him?’

  ‘He’s been in a helicopter crash.’ She gave a loud sob. ‘Melissa, he’s not expected to survive…’

  Melissa froze. It couldn’t be true. His show was running on TV at the moment. She and Pete had watched it in bed only the previous night. She remembered thinking how well he looked. ‘No…’ she whispered. ‘Not Mark… It can’t be right.’

  ‘I’m going to the hospital now. He’s at St Thomas’s. Will you come with me?’ Sophie was breathless, as if she was walking quickly. ‘Please, Melissa.’

  Melissa hesitated. ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘He’d want you there. I know he would.’ Sophie was emphatic. She wasn’t going to accept ‘no’ for an answer.

  ‘OK. I’ll see you there.’

  To begin with, it was a struggle to get anywhere near him. While the press gathered outside the hospital, ghoulishly hoping for confirmation of his death, inside, various hangers-on jostled for position at his bedside.

  ‘Mark would laugh his head off at this, if he was awake to see it,’ Sophie told Melissa, as they watched yet another of Mark’s old conquests leaving with her hair and make-up done to perfection, ready for her close-up.

  ‘Well, she certainly doesn’t seem too distressed.’ Melissa’s lip curled in disgust.

  ‘You watch how quickly they get bored, if this drags on for any length of time.’

  Melissa looked at her in horror. ‘Christ, Sophie, you make it sound as if you’re wishing him dead.’

  Sophie shook her head wearily. ‘You know that’s not the case, Liss. I love Mark just as much as you do. I can’t imagine my life without him in it.’ She paused, as if composing herself. ‘But we need to be realistic about this.…’ She tailed off and her words hung in the air for a moment. ‘And think about it, there’s no way Mark would want to just survive. You know he wouldn’t. He’d want to be his old self…’ her voice dropped to a whisper, ‘or nothing at all.’

  ‘No,’ Melissa’s mouth set in a straight, determined line and she shook her head emphatically. ‘I’m not going to be realistic about anything.’ She glanced up at Mark, lying motionless as the machines keeping him alive beeped and whirred rhythmically. ‘Mark is not going to die, because I’m not going to let him.’

  For the next couple of weeks, Sophie and Melissa barely left his bedside, but eventually, Sophie had to get back to work. ‘Someone needs to keep the company going,’ she told Melissa with a wry expression. ‘He’ll kill me when he gets back if I’ve let it slide.’

  Melissa nodded and gave a tired smile. She was pleased that Sophie was now talking as if he was going to get better. As if he’d be going back to work soon. But Melissa was starting to lose hope. At the beginning, she’d been so sure that she could will him better if she was focused enough. But with every passing hour that he didn’t wake up, her certainty waivered a tiny bit.

  ‘I’m not so sure he’s going to make it, Pete,’ she cried one evening after a long day at the hospital. Pete wrapped his arms around her a
nd hugged her tightly. She loved that not only did he never moan about how much time she was spending at Mark’s bedside, he also never trotted out platitudes to make her feel better. Everyone knew Mark was unlikely to survive, so he just listened and nodded and supported her.

  He had never once queried why she needed to be with Mark as much as she did. ‘I know how much you love him,’ he told her, when she apologized for never being at home these days. Melissa had reached up to kiss him. ‘I hope you also know how much I love you too.’

  And it was true. She and Pete just worked. He was kind, he was thoughtful and he could always make her laugh, even when she thought her heart might be about to break. She had thought she would never love anyone after Mark but with each passing day, she fell more and more in love with Pete. There was a permanence to their relationship that she had never known before and she could see them being together for ever.

  More weeks passed and soon everyone but Melissa and Sophie had become bored sitting by Mark’s bed, watching the hours tick by, as the machines around him continued with their robotic hisses and beeps. ‘He doesn’t look like him any more, does he?’ Melissa said as she met Sophie’s eye across his bed one evening.

  Sophie shook her head sadly. ‘No. I just hope that when he wakes up, he’s still the same Mark we know and love.’ Melissa and Sophie tended to take it in turns to be optimistic, as it was too exhausting for one person to maintain it.

  ‘If he wakes up.’ Melissa turned to look at Mark, willing him to open his eyes. She had long since stopped kidding herself that it was all going to be fine but she hadn’t seen him in person for such a long time. She felt as if she needed to see those dark, velvety eyes smiling at her one more time, winking mischievously whenever he was up to no good.

  She leaned forward so that her mouth was close to his ear. ‘Come on, Mark, wake up, you bastard! We can’t stay here for ever, you selfish git.’