The Story of Our Lives: A heartwarming story of friendship for summer 2018. Helen Warner
gun, nerves making her gabble. She glanced back over her shoulder as she headed for the door. Matt was watching her with a tiny smirk of surprise. And was it her imagination or did he look ever so slightly impressed?
‘So how come you were so late last night, gorgeous?’ Steve rolled over in bed and wrapped his arms around Sophie, who tensed instinctively, guilt swirling in her stomach. She had arrived back at the flat to find a card from Steve on the kitchen table saying, ‘Congratulations on a brilliant first show.’
‘I, er, went for a drink with some of the others after the programme.’
Steve planted a kiss on her bare shoulder, his bristles scratching her skin in a way that wasn’t unpleasant. ‘That’s nice. So how did the programme go?’
Sophie turned over to face him. She loved Steve’s ‘morning face’ before he’d had a shave, with his dark blue eyes still crinkly with sleep and his silky blond hair mussed up so that it flopped messily around his high cheekbones. ‘It went really well. Did you like it?’
‘I did.’ Steve kissed her gently on the mouth. ‘It looked great but I meant how did it go behind the scenes? Was Mr Handsome a pain in the arse?’
Sophie smiled at Steve’s description of Matt. They had often watched him deliver the news while commenting that he looked incredibly full of himself. ‘Nah, he was fine. Nice, actually. He came for a drink too.’ As soon as she said the words, Sophie could feel herself beginning to relax. She might not have told the whole truth but she hadn’t lied to Steve either. Already, she was beginning to wonder if she had imagined the sexual tension she had felt last night. Matt probably just wanted to unwind after the show and she was the only one available to go for a drink with him. It didn’t mean he had singled her out at all.
She lifted her hand and stroked Steve’s hair away from his face, enjoying the prickly sensation from his stubble on her palm. He took his cue and rolled on top of her, his mouth finding hers so effortlessly, his tongue exploring hers as if it was the first time they had ever kissed. Every nerve ending began to sing as Sophie guided him inside her, the feel of him so familiar yet each sensation so new. She threw her head back and groaned as he began to thrust faster, his mouth on her breasts, her neck, her stomach. Sophie could feel herself teetering on the edge of an orgasm when Matt’s face flashed in front of her closed lids. Suddenly it was Matt’s body above her, thrusting himself into her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge and she came with an almighty shudder.
‘Wow.’ Steve rolled off her and lay back on the bed, breathing heavily. ‘That was great.’
‘It was.’ Sophie was glad he wasn’t looking at her face because she felt sure he would know what she had been thinking in those final, climactic moments. A feeling of guilt began to gnaw at her. Already she had deceived Steve and worse, she had fantasized about someone else while he was making love to her.
‘I’d better get ready for work.’ She slipped her legs over the side of the bed and sat up.
‘Yeah, me too. Wish I didn’t have to, though. Wish I could stay in bed with you all day.’
Sophie looked at him over her shoulder and smiled. ‘Me too.’ She felt obliged to say it even though she didn’t really mean it. She loved her work with a passion and couldn’t wait to get there most days. She had thought it was just because she had fulfilled a long-held ambition when she became a TV producer but it was more than that. She loved the buzz, the excitement. The people. One person in particular.
Steve quite enjoyed his job as an HR officer for a City bank but it was a million miles from where his ambitions lay. He was a comedy writer and he dreamed of making it a career one day. For now, though, they had a mortgage to pay on their two-bedroom flat in Balham in south London and they couldn’t afford for one of them to give up work just yet. Sophie sometimes felt guilty about it but more and more recently, she had begun to question why he had settled for such a dull career when he could have gone for something more exciting. Like she had.
She still loved him so deeply and couldn’t imagine her life without him in it. It was as if her adulthood had only really begun once she met him. But in the newsroom each day, she was surrounded by ambitious, thrusting, handsome, funny men who sometimes made Steve seem a little, well, boring. Every time the insistent little thought niggled at a corner of her brain, she would try to push it away but it always returned.
Walking into the newsroom later that morning, she was lost in thought and mulling over what news stories might feature in her bulletin, when Keira, another of the junior producers she worked with, sidled up and fell into step beside her. ‘So, it looks like someone’s got an admirer.’
Sophie frowned. ‘Sorry?’
Keira nudged her. ‘You. And Matt. Jez saw you leaving the newsroom together last night.’
Sophie’s insides dropped instantly with fear. ‘What? No. I mean, there was nothing in it. We just went for a drink.’ She started to stutter and could feel her cheeks burning, making her look guilty as hell.
‘Hey, you don’t need to defend yourself to me,’ Keira nudged her gently. ‘Who wouldn’t, given half a chance?’
‘No! You don’t understand. I wouldn’t. I have a boyfriend I’m very happy with. Matt’s a player. He could have anyone. He doesn’t want or need to bother with me.’
Keira looked at her closely, as if weighing up whether to believe her. ‘Seriously? You turned down Matt Whitelaw?’
‘No!’ Sophie could feel the frustration bubbling up inside her as she reached her desk and dumped her bag on the floor, before slumping into her chair. ‘I didn’t turn him down because he didn’t try anything on! We had a drink and I got a cab home. End of story. I don’t remotely fancy him and I doubt very much whether he remotely fancies me.’ Her voice rose as she spoke and by the time she had finished, she was aware that she had an audience. She looked around to see that Matt had arrived in the newsroom just in time to hear the last sentence.
He smiled at her easily and headed for his own desk, where he sat down and began typing at his keyboard. Keira mouthed the word ‘Oops’ and edged away towards her own seat.
Sophie took a second to compose herself before she turned to her computer and logged in. They had just had new computers installed with an operating system called Outlook Express which meant they could send emails to one another. Immediately, an email flashed up.
MATT WHITELAW: ACTUALLY I DO REMOTELY FANCY YOU.
‘So what? You didn’t do anything wrong.’ Melissa tucked her hands deep into the pockets of her oversized Barbour, as she and Sophie sat together on the sea wall, looking out over the choppy water while a flock of seagulls squealed through the deepening sky.
‘I wouldn’t have done anything wrong if I’d left it there.’ If only. If only I had left things there.
Sophie let herself into the flat and crept towards the bedroom door, which was ajar. She peeped her head around it and strained her eyes to see if she could make out the figure of Steve asleep in the darkness.
‘If you’re looking for me, I’m in here.’
Sophie jumped. Her heart beginning to pound, she walked to the living room, where she found Steve sitting on the sofa in the dark, his back ramrod straight, staring at the wall.
‘What are you doing in here?’ She tried to keep her voice light-hearted, but she had a sudden feeling of foreboding. ‘Has something happened?’
Steve didn’t answer. Finally, he leaned over and clicked on the lamp beside him, bathing the small