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

Pushing the plug into the plughole, I turned on the cold tap and filled the sink with icy water. It spurted and spluttered the way the cold tap always did, but the relief as I splashed the water over my face was exactly what I needed. It felt brutal, but as well as washing away my smeared make-up, it cleared my head.

For so long I’d convinced myself I was the only person whose life wasn’t going to plan. When my relationship with Darius ended, I’d felt hard done by. My plans for the future – a lavish wedding day, building a home to fill with a family, playing the part of the dutiful wife – had blown up in my face. Looking back, that mindset was laughable. As my life was spiralling out of control, everyone else’s was too to varying degrees. Some were doing a better job of hiding it than others, that’s all. Eve with her mum’s Alzheimer’s. Max helping care for his dad. Tawna bickering with her mum over sugared almonds. Nick and Chantel facing an uncertain future. Everyone had problems.

I splashed the water against my face again, before studying myself in the mirror. Still a mess, but at least I was more awake. Smoothing the damp palms of my hands against my hair, I closed my eyes and inhaled. It was time to face the day, and the world had better watch out, because I wasn’t going to be a fool anymore, nor was I wasting my precious and beautiful life worrying about things I could no longer change. It reminded me of that prayer, the one about having serenity to accept what can’t be changed, courage to change what can and wisdom to know the difference. That was what I was striving for. Serenity, courage, wisdom.

My latest statement had the audacity to arrive, testing my resolve. Although I’d expected it, I was disappointed to see the amount I’d paid the previous month was the smallest yet, having used money meant for cancelling out my debts on the hen do and paying Darius.

Courage to change the things I can.

I was running out of clothes that had any monetary value, but for my own sanity I needed to make a significant payment. There had to be something else I could part with.

There was the Le Creuset kitchenware, but I used that regularly. I considered selling my laptop, but I didn’t have a separate TV and was reluctant to give up instant access to any box set I felt in the mood to watch. Anyway, I knew neither of those would make enough money, not in their well-used states.

I looked around my bedroom for inspiration and when my gaze lingered on my jewellery box it seemed so obvious. I knew exactly what I could sell – the diamond-encrusted choker Darius had bought me for my birthday the year before last. When he’d handed me the red velvet box, I’d expected an engagement ring, and although it was a beautiful piece of jewellery I’d known immediately that I’d never be able to wear it without feeling cheated. That’s why its one and only outing had been on my thirtieth birthday, and my life had been spun on its axis since then. Selling the choker made perfect sense, and there was a pawn shop on the same street as my office. I should have thought of it sooner; I knew it was valuable because Darius had ensured I’d added it to the contents insurance.

I picked up my knitting, glad to have found a solution. If only everything else in life was as easy to fix.

The morning had passed in a tangle of wools and threads and buttons, as I’d finished knitting the tiny cream booties I’d been making for Nick and Chantel’s babies. I’d considered unravelling the wool, wondering if it was insensitive to make booties that might never be worn, but I needed to finish the project that had been started when we’d all been so full of excitement.

My stitches were too taut, the tension all wrong as my teardrops soaked into the palm-sized object I’d made, but as I said a quiet prayer as I threaded the satin ribbon through the loopholes I’d made, I was pleased I’d opted to finish them. We had to remain hopeful, for what is a world without hope?

When my phone rang, I was relieved it was Max rather than my mum. No news was most definitely good news.

“Max,” I said, as I accepted the call.

“Sophie. I was going to ring you when I got back last night, but I knew you’d worry if the phone rang in case it was your mum. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” I looked at the two pairs of little booties on the mantelpiece. “Worried, obviously. So many people I love are having a tough time at the moment.” I didn’t want the conversation to be a total downer, so I said, “What about you? What are you up to?”

“I wondered if you wanted to come to the fete at the hospital this afternoon? I understand if you’d rather be at home, but there’s usually a load of craft stalls there, the sort of thing you love.”

“Sounds great.” I smiled, my first proper smile all day. “But will there be a tombola too? I love a good tombola.”

“I expect so. I bet there’ll be all the old favourites: coconut shies, plate smashing, that kind of thing. And I’ve heard the cake stall is legendary.”

“Legendary cake sounds good.”

Max suggested we met at a coffee shop opposite the hospital. I was about to end the call, thinking we’d organised everything we needed to, but Max had one final message to give.

“Sophie?”

“Yeah?”

“If you change your mind and decide it’s too much, I’ll understand. Family comes first.”

“There’s nothing I can do that’ll change anything,” I said, my voice far more calm than I felt. “Better to be out and distracted rather than moping at home. I’ll see you