Nothing New for Sophie Drew: a heart-warming romantic comedy, Katey Lovell [booksvooks .txt] 📗

in France, and just so happened to fall in love with a handsome sommelier. How convenient. The cover boasted a quote from a bestselling author which piqued my interest all the more.

I flicked to the first page and started to read. The style was light and breezy, the protagonist a sassy, strong woman ready to embrace her dreams. I gobbled up the first chapter without realising it, keen to find out more about this fictional character’s journey. I was still lost within the book’s pages when Eve tapped me on the shoulder, dragging me abruptly back to reality.

“Found something you like the look of?”

“It’s okay.” I moved to put the book back in the space on the shelf.

“Take it out, if you’re enjoying it. Nothing beats a bit of escapist bedtime reading.” Eve’s arms were laden with books, mainly thick academic tomes. They didn’t look like the type of reads to wind down with after a stressful day at work to me.

“I’m not sure I’ve got my library card. And even if I have, I don’t know if it’s still valid.”

“You can borrow it on my card if not. I’m not up to my limit on loans.”

I pulled the book back down from the shelf, the thought of following the character’s progress giving me pleasure.

“That’s great, thank you.”

I tucked the book under my arm to retrieve my purse, willing my underused library card to be hidden between my debit card and my Tesco Clubcard. When I saw the distinctive black plastic peeking out I nearly whooped with delight. The book was coming home with me.

Eve and I scanned our books (her selection taking significantly longer to process than my lone loan) and made our way back through the foyer, plastered with posters for playgroups and yoga classes, local history groups and farmer’s markets. A flyer near the door caught my eye.

“Look at that!” I exclaimed, my voice squeaking with excitement. “They’re doing a showing of Dirty Dancing!”

Eve, Tawna and I must have watched that film every day the summer after we sat our GCSEs. We’d quote back the classic lines about corners and watermelons, but act smug and superior when we knew the less famous lines verbatim too. We’d all fallen head over heels in love with Patrick Swayze, and although we’d worked our way through his back catalogue none of his other roles had got us as worked up as red-hot dance instructor Johnny Castle. Patrick was the only celebrity who’d ever given my main man Milo a run for his money.

Eve moved closer to the poster to read the small print. “‘Film night, free to attend, bring your dancing shoes,’” she quoted.

“Sounds good. We should come.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it could be a laugh. And as it’s free we can always leave early if it’s a bit crap, which it won’t be, because Patrick Swayze on a big screen could never be anything less than perfection.”

“You’re right, we should do it as a hen do for Tawna, it’s two weeks before the wedding. Let’s put our names down at the desk,” she said eagerly, making her way back into the library.

I didn’t want Eve to know how tight things were money-wise, but the freebie factor had clinched the deal. After so long paying for everything with the credit card without a thought for the cost, staying within my means was a difficult adjustment. I needed to get the pile of Marie Kondo-ed clothes I planned to sell listed on eBay, and fast. The more I read about interest rates on credit cards, the more of an idiot I felt for becoming so reliant on it in the first place.

When Eve had registered our interest in the screening we headed out, strolling past the small run of shops – a bakery, a pharmacy, a convenience store – before stopping outside Pam’s Café. It wasn’t the smartest establishment, being an out-of-town greasy spoon, but it was cheap and cheery; the eponymous Pam a bubbly lady with a personality large enough to rival her expansive bosoms. Pam’s was an institution in these parts, her legendary fry-ups the perfect way to tackle a hangover, and at a price that didn’t break the bank. Saturday mornings were her busiest time. Peering through the window I spotted a free table in the centre of the room. Not the best seat in the house, but it’d do.

“I need to tell you exactly what Tawna’s done this time. Even you won’t be able to believe her gall.”

“Whatever she’s done it can’t be as bad as when she pretended her Nana had died to get out of going on a date,” Eve stated, referring to the time Tawna had had a sudden change of heart about a boy she’d been dating (and he had been a boy, because she’d been a girl. Admittedly, the case in question was fourteen years ago when we were in Year 11, but it remained the unscrupulous act which cropped up in conversation every time Tawna overstepped the mark, which was fairly frequently).

“It’s not far off.” My shoulders tensed as I replayed the conversation, my anger reigniting. “She invited me for tea under false pretences. Made out like she wanted my company when really it was a ploy to get me and Darius to spend time together. And she had the nerve to make out I was the bad guy for turning up late!”

Eve gasped. “She’s unbelievable. Why would she think it’s okay to invite Darius without telling you? I know she’s pulled a few stunts in her time, but this is ridiculous.”

“Yep, it’s a whole new level of low.”

Pam waddled over, her nylon maroon dress half-hidden by a pinny way too small to protect her clothes from flour or sugar. It looked more like something kinky Kath might buy on one of her trips to Ann Summers.

We placed our orders – I justified the large bacon buttie with the logic that it’d cost as much for me to buy the ingredients and eat at