The Story of Our Lives

by Helen Warner

  Sophie grinned. ‘He’d like that. He really missed you, you know, when you left Merlin.’

  Melissa raised her eyebrows. ‘He had a funny way of showing it. He seemed to be out with a different woman every night of the week. Not that many of them have stuck around.…’ She gestured to the empty room around them.

  ‘No, really.’ Sophie looked fondly at Mark. ‘I think he’s been pining for you. Especially since I told him you were all loved up with Pete.’

  Melissa’s heart gave a little skip. ‘Really? What did he say?’

  ‘It wasn’t what he said, so much as the look on his face. He looked sad.’

  ‘But what did he say?’ Melissa persisted. She wanted to know.

  Sophie sighed. ‘He said he was pleased for you. That you deserved to be happy. He said Pete was a very lucky man.’

  Melissa’s heart sank. ‘That’s hardly proof of his undying love.’ She looked at Mark again. ‘He was probably glad to get rid of me.’

  ‘No.’

  Sophie leapt out of her seat. ‘Was that you?’

  ‘No.’

  Melissa shook her head, scarcely daring to breathe in case she was wrong. ‘No, it wasn’t me. It was him.’

  They both leaned towards Mark’s face. ‘Mark, sweetheart.’ Melissa stroked his cheek gently. ‘Did you try to say something?’

  Mark’s eyes fluttered open and he looked straight at her. Melissa tried to speak but she couldn’t. The lump in her throat grew.

  ‘Mark!’ Sophie said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘What were you trying to say?’

  Melissa leaned further over, so that he could see her face more clearly. Mark opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if the effort was too much. Melissa picked up the glass of water by his bed and put the straw to his dry lips. Mark managed to take the smallest of sips, before his breath seemed to fail him. With an almighty effort, he opened his mouth again. ‘I love you,’ he mouthed, before his eyes fell shut once more.

  ‘Oh, isn’t this perfect for your mummy and daddy!’ Sophie planted a quick kiss on the top of Clementine’s baby-soft curls, as she stopped for a moment so that she could take in every detail of the tastefully decorated garden. A lush green lawn sloped down towards a cliff edge dotted with exotic trees and flowers, through which the Mediterranean sparkled azure blue in the sunshine. Rows of silver chairs had been laid out in front of a simple rose-strewn dais where they would make their vows and the scent of honeysuckle and clematis hung tantalizingly in the warm air. The whole effect was mesmerizing.

  Sophie held on tightly to the baby in her arms, as she walked as carefully as she could in her high heels towards her seat in the front row. She had protested that Melissa’s mum, dad and half-sisters should be sitting there but Melissa had been adamant. ‘You have been more of a family to me than they have. I want you in the front row. All of you.’

  Emily and Amy were already there as she arrived at her seat. Emily looked up and flashed her a nervous smile, reaching out to give Clementine’s chubby cheek a gentle stroke with her thumb as she did so. ‘You look beautiful, Soph.’

  Sophie hesitated before taking Emily’s hand, still outstretched towards the baby, and squeezing it tightly. ‘So do you, Emily.’

  It was true. Although the pain Emily had been through was still evident in her appearance, her beauty remained. Yes, there were deep lines around her big, dark, almond-shaped eyes and her once black, shiny hair was now almost entirely grey. But it suited her. Age suited her.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Sophie,’ she mouthed, shaking her head. ‘For everything.’

  ‘I know.’ Sophie kissed the top of Clementine’s head as she sat down beside Emily, spreading out the baby’s beautiful white silk dress. ‘Look, let’s not dwell on the past, especially not today, Em. Let’s think of it as a new beginning. If the last few years have taught us anything, it’s that life is short and precious.’ She glanced down at the baby. ‘Let’s not waste any more time with anger and recriminations.’

  Emily nodded. ‘A new beginning,’ she repeated with a wistful smile.

  ‘So… we’re finally going to meet Michael, are we?’ Sophie said, deliberately changing the subject.

  Emily’s smile widened. ‘Be gentle with him, won’t you?’ She turned her head and motioned towards the back of the garden. ‘He’s over there.’

  Sophie followed her gaze towards a tall, slim man, dressed in a pale linen suit, with an expensive-looking white shirt that showed off his tanned chest underneath. With his floppy blond hair and bright blue eyes, he looked a lot like Anton. A younger, prettier version. ‘He’s gorgeous!’

  Emily’s eyes shone proudly. ‘I know. I’m very lucky.’

  ‘He’s lucky too.’ It was going to take a long time to get their friendship completely back on track but after everything that had happened, Sophie had decided that life was just too short to hold on to the horrible, corrosive anger that was eating away at her from the inside.

  She loved Emily and she missed her friendship too much to lose it. It would take time, but they would mend their relationship. The scars were still there but they were fading with every day that passed. Right at this moment, she was just happy that they were together.

  And she was happy that Emily was gradually turning her own life around too. She had struggled, unsurprisingly, with severe depression after Jack’s illness. At one point, Jack had even had to come and live with them temporarily. But she had come through it and had used her experiences to write her first novel, which proved to be enough of a success to support her financially. Now she was busy writing a second novel and adapting the first into a screenplay for TV. Michael was the producer, which is how they had met.

  ‘I think this might be her!’ Amy stood as the string quartet struck up with the wedding march.

  Sophie craned her neck to see past the rows of family and friends.

  ‘Isn’t it traditional for him to arrive first?’ Emily said.

  Sophie laughed. ‘Melissa’s not really one for tradition. She said she wanted to beat him to the altar…’ She rolled her eyes affectionately.

  Sure enough, Melissa appeared and Sophie’s eyes instantly filled with tears. Her dress was the one she had picked out all those years ago at Geneva’s place in LA when Sophie was getting married. It was strapless with a tiered lace skirt and would have looked awful on anybody but Melissa.

  She was flanked on either side by Steve and Jack, both looking handsome and proud in their morning suits. Jack was so like Steve that it sometimes made Sophie catch her breath. She couldn’t understand how none of them had ever seen it before – it was so very obvious. He had had a tough couple of years but he had made a full recovery and looking at him now, no one would ever know that he had been ill. He and Steve had developed an incredibly close relationship and spent as much time as they could together, as if trying to make up for what Steve used to call ‘the lost years’.

  Behind them, Emma and Megan held hands with Theo and George, all of them taking their roles very seriously, as they concentrated on walking in time to the music. Emma looked up and caught Sophie watching her, flashing her a wide, happy smile, the sun glinting on her brace. She was growing up into a lovely young woman and, although she always refused to accept it whenever anyone made a comment, she was the image of Sophie.

  As they reached the end of the aisle, Melissa reached out to take the baby from Sophie’s arms. ‘I’m sorry.’ Sophie motioned to the black smudge of mascara that had dripped onto Clementine’s tiny, snow-white dress.

  Melissa kissed the top of Clementine’s head and laughed. ‘You’re such a softie.’

  Sophie returned to her seat, the tears still rolling down her cheeks. Amy leaned over and handed her a tissue, which she took gratefully and dabbed ineffectually at her eyes. ‘I think we might all need one of those…’ Emily whispered, as the music struck up again and everyone turned as one.

  Mark made his way down the aisle, moving slowly and carefully, never o
nce taking his eyes off Melissa, who was watching him with an expression of pure, unadulterated joy. As he reached her, she bent to kiss him and lowered Clementine onto his lap, where she happily snuggled into his chest. Mark reached out and took Melissa’s hand. ‘You look perfect,’ he told her, to the accompaniment of dozens of sniffs from the congregation. Later that evening, with the dancing in full swing and Mark holding court just as he always did, Sophie pulled Melissa to one side. ‘That was a perfect day, Melissa. I’m so happy for you.’

  Melissa smiled and gave a contented sigh. ‘I’m so happy for myself!’ Her skin was glowing and her eyes were shining. Sophie thought she had never seen a more beautiful bride.

  ‘I got a message from Pete this morning…’ Melissa glanced towards Mark.

  Sophie nodded. ‘I’m glad. What did he say?’

  Melissa smiled fondly. ‘He said he had no doubt that I would look fat and ugly in my wedding dress and that he’d had a lucky escape.’

  Sophie laughed. ‘He didn’t!’

  Melissa nodded, grinning affectionately. ‘He did. It was perfect. A little bit of me will always love him, you know.’

  ‘I know.’ Sophie looked over at Mark, who noticed her watching him and gave her a wink, before continuing to regale the crowd around him with some outlandish story or other. ‘But old prince charming over there just edged it, didn’t he?’

  ‘Yes. He did.’ Melissa gazed at Mark. There was no mistaking the love she had for him. His accident had made him radically reassess his life and he had been begging Melissa to marry him ever since he first woke up. She had always refused, until she had Clementine, when she decided that maybe they should formalize their relationship after all. ‘I’m just wondering why I didn’t do this sooner.’

  ‘I was the same on my wedding day.’ Sophie smiled as she remembered how happy she had been on that day. They had just celebrated their fifth wedding anniversary, which seemed slightly ridiculous, as they had now been together for twenty-one years. ‘But I suppose it doesn’t really matter, as long as you’re happy and you’re together. Amy certainly has no plans to do it again.’

  ‘Where is Amy?’ Melissa glanced around the marquee. ‘And Emily?’

  ‘We’re here!’ they said in unison, emerging from the dance floor, looking flushed and breathless.

  Melissa motioned to a passing waiter, who was instantly by her side with a tray of champagne. ‘I think we should have a toast,’ she said, handing each of them a glass. ‘What shall we drink to?’

  Sophie looked at each of them in turn, seeing the story of their lives written in the lines and creases of their faces. But they were still here. Still strong. Still together. ‘I think we should drink to us,’ she said, lifting her glass. ‘To best friends for ever.’

  Acknowledgements

  Writing this book has been made considerably easier with the encouragement and vision of my wonderful agent, Sheila Crowley. Thank you, Sheila, for your calm, reassuring influence and for always being there when I need you. Thanks also to Abbie Greaves and all at Curtis Brown for your support.

  I am so grateful to the incomparable Lisa Milton at HQ. I couldn’t be happier that we are finally working together and I have absolutely loved every minute of our first collaboration. Equally joyous to work with is Anna Baggaley, who added so much to The Story of Our Lives through her edits and suggestions. Thank you, Anna, for steering me in the right direction with such good humour and tact.

  Thank you to my dearest friends and fabulous colleagues at ITV, Jane Beacon and Clare Ely, who read early drafts of the novel and provided both insight and inspiration, as they have done for the past 20 years on a daily basis. Thanks too to another early reader, my good friend Nikki Shepherd, who gave me some very helpful pointers along the way.

  The Story of Our Lives is about a group of friends who have a ‘girls’ weekend away’ every year and the inspiration for the novel (though not the characters, I hasten to add) came from my own group of girlfriends, with whom I have spent many happy weekends over the past fifteen years. Rachel Bloomfield, Fiona Foster, Yasmin Pasha, Sofi Pasha, Clare Rewcastle, Stephanie Smith and Elke Tullett, thank you for the memories and here’s to many more.

  Thank you to my mum, Ann, for cheering me on so loudly and for all the help she has given me over the years, along with my lovely brother and sister, Ian and Louise and their equally lovely partners, Helen and Baz. Thank you to my fabulous mother-in-law, Daphne and to the rest of the Warner family for providing the laughs.

  Finally, thank you to my three favourite people in the world: Rob, Alice and Paddy. You make everything worthwhile and I love you.