She climbed out of bed and walked to the window, aware that a cold sweat of panic had broken out on her forehead. Where the hell was Melissa? Just as she was wondering whether she should call the police, there was a familiar click and whirr as the door opened and Melissa crept in, looking almost comical as she tried to tiptoe across the carpet, seemingly not noticing Sophie standing by the window.
‘Where the bloody hell have you been?’ Sophie yelled, fear and panic and relief coursing through her veins all at once. She knew she sounded like a mother scolding her naughty child but she didn’t care. She was suddenly filled with a simmering rage.
Melissa’s already huge eyes widened as she looked at Sophie in surprise. ‘Oh, hey, Soph. I was trying not to wake you.’ She swallowed a giggle as she spoke, infuriating Sophie even more.
‘Well, as you can see, I’m already awake. Mainly because I was bloody well worrying about where you were!’
Melissa sighed deeply. ‘I’m fine! You didn’t need to worry about me. I can look after myself.’ She pulled off her blood-spattered white jeans to reveal a tiny black thong that showed off her perfectly formed bottom. She then took off her top and slid into bed. ‘God, I’m seriously knackered though.’ She snuggled down and closed her eyes.
Before she knew what she was doing, Sophie had crossed the room and pulled back the duvet, causing Melissa to yelp in shock as she tried in vain to grab it back.
‘Where have you been?’ Sophie demanded, clutching the duvet to her chest.
Melissa rolled her eyes. ‘I spent the night with that guy…’
‘What guy?’
Melissa frowned and sat up, pulling her knees to her chest to protect her modesty. ‘The one in the bar. Jesus, Soph, I don’t know what the big deal is.’
Sophie sat down on her own bed. She didn’t really know what the big deal was either but she was so angry. Was she jealous? ‘But you don’t know anything about him. He could be an axe murderer – he could be married…’
‘He is,’ Melissa said in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘Well, he’s not an axe murderer, obviously. But he is married.’
‘And doesn’t that bother you at all? Sleeping with someone else’s husband?’
Melissa raised her eyes for a second, as if pondering the question. ‘Nope.’
‘Well, maybe it should,’ Sophie said, feeling about a hundred years old.
‘I don’t think you’re in any position to preach to me about morality, Sophie.’ Melissa’s voice was gentle but her face had hardened slightly.
Sophie quailed. Melissa was right. She was in no position to lecture anyone. She stood up and threw the duvet at Melissa, before turning and heading for the bathroom.
‘Soph!’ Melissa called after her. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—’
The rest of her words were lost as Sophie switched on the bath taps and ran herself a deep, hot bath. She wanted to cry but, like yesterday, she couldn’t. She hadn’t cried for a very long time and it was only now that she realized just how odd that was. She turned off the taps and walked back out into the bedroom.
Melissa looked up at her with wide, wet eyes. ‘Are you OK, Soph? I’m really worried about you.’
Sophie frowned. ‘No, I don’t think I am. I think I might need help.’
JULY 2000
‘In entertainment news, a new reality game show, Big Brother, airs for the first time in Britain tonight. The show sees twelve contestants kept in a custom-built house, with their every move monitored on camera. Each week one housemate will be evicted by public vote.’
BATH
Sophie pressed hard on the brakes as she drove down the steep, winding road towards the centre of Bath. To her right she could see the city laid out beneath her, rows and rows of honeycombcoloured houses in their Regency splendour. It was a damp, misty day, when the sun hadn’t quite been able to burn through, but nothing could dampen Sophie’s excitement at seeing everyone again. It had been a year since their last get-together at Amy’s wedding and she wished now that she had been in a better frame of mind to enjoy what was probably the most glamorous wedding she had ever been to.
‘Well, this looks pretty special.’ Steve got out of the car in the shingle-covered car park in front of the ancient grey-stone church. It stood in the middle of the Wiltshire countryside, secluded from the rest of the world by woods and fields that had remained unchanged for centuries. He looked around him in wonder for a few seconds, before his eyes alighted on Sophie. ‘And so do you, sweetheart. You look absolutely stunning.’
Sophie flushed under his gaze and self-consciously smoothed down her cappuccino strapless dress. ‘Thanks but I feel like a fairy elephant beside the others. You look great though.’
It was true. Steve looked almost film-star handsome in his dark, slim-cut suit, which contrasted with his blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. His face was tanned and Sophie felt a sudden swell of pride that he was with her. She took his hand and led him towards the church where the others were waiting. They had all stayed overnight together with Amy at the luxurious hotel just a hundred metres away where the reception was being held and Sophie had found the whole night a struggle.
She had started taking antidepressants straight after the hen weekend in Brighton and she was still suffering with some of the side effects. Her head felt as though it was permanently stuffed with cotton wool, which perfectly matched her horribly dry mouth. She couldn’t have any of the free-flowing champagne that the others had vigorously enjoyed last night, especially Melissa, and she felt generally leaden and out of sorts. Her feelings of worthlessness were only exacerbated by the breathtaking beauty of everyone else around her. She felt embarrassed for Amy that she would be spoiling her otherwise perfect wedding photos.
As they reached the church, Melissa bounded over to them. ‘Hey, gorgeous!’ She reached up to wrap her arms around Steve’s neck and pulled him towards her in a warm embrace. Steve glanced nervously at Sophie as Melissa finally let him go, but she couldn’t give him the reassuring smile she knew he wanted. She wouldn’t blame him for fancying Melissa when he was stuck with someone as fat and unattractive as her. Melissa’s strapless dress clung to her perfect curves as if she had been poured into a liquid milk chocolate mould, and her black afro hair had been swept up into a chignon that showed off her toned, brown shoulders and elegant neck.
Emily and her six-year-old son Jack, who was the pageboy, stood off to one side and Sophie steered Steve over towards them, safely away from Melissa. ‘Hi, Em. Hi, Jack.’ Steve crouched down so that his face was at the same level as Jack’s. ‘Love the suit, buddy!’ He tugged at Jack’s miniature dark grey suit. Amy had delivered on her promise not to put him in pantaloons, much to everyone’s relief.
Jack gave Steve a wonky, gap-toothed grin. ‘Mum said I only have to wear it for an hour and then I can get changed into my comfy clothes.’
Steve shook his head vehemently. ‘Oh no, no, no, that won’t do! You need to wear it all day so that everyone thinks you’re the same age as the rest of us.’
Jack’s eyes widened. ‘Do you think they will?’
‘Course they will. But only if you wear your suit. In your comfy clothes they might mistake you for a six-year-old or something.’
Over the top of their heads, Sophie caught Emily’s eye and smiled. Steve stood up. ‘Thank you,’ Emily mouthed to him silently.