The Story of Our Lives: A heartwarming story of friendship for summer 2018. Helen Warner

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      At that moment, the doorbell rang. ‘I’ll get it,’ she offered eagerly. The ground floor was up a flight of stairs that led to a grand, tiled hallway and Sophie gazed around her as she made her way to the door. The house was vast and stunning. It made her tiny terrace look like a shoebox. The seeds of dissatisfaction with her own humble surroundings that were beginning to take root were quickly forgotten as she threw open the wide, heavy door to reveal Melissa and Emily, who had travelled down together by train.

      They gave a united squeal of delight before enveloping Sophie in a barrage of hugs, amid cries that she had ‘lost so much weight!’ and her hair looked ‘fantastic’. Sophie returned the hugs, smiling ruefully to herself at the unspoken suggestion of how truly awful she must have looked the last time they saw her.

      Clattering down to the kitchen, dropping bags and jackets as they went, they gabbled various compliments about the house and moans about the train journey before they swamped Amy with yet another blanket of squeals and cries of delight.

      Sophie put the kettle on and sighed happily. Things were definitely looking up for them all.

       CHAPTER TWELVE

      Melissa linked her arm through Sophie’s as they strolled beside the river on their way into the centre of Bath. It was a warm day without being stifling and already the streets were packed with tourists and shoppers making the most of the summer weekend. ‘You seem really good, Soph. And you’re doing so well at work! Big Brother’s a huge hit. You must be pleased.’

      Sophie looked down at Melissa and smiled. ‘I am. I’m much more suited to producing this type of show than news. I wish I’d switched years ago…’ She left the words hanging in the air for a second, imagining how different things would be if she had. ‘I’m really sorry about… well, how I was last year. It all got a bit too much, you know?’

      Melissa nodded and bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry too. I was a bit of a mess myself, with nothing like your excuse.’

      Sophie didn’t reply, unsure what to say. Melissa seemed together enough but she didn’t look great. Her black hair was dull and lank and her skin, which normally glowed with good health, now looked spotty and blotchy. ‘I know, I know. I look like shit.’ As always, Melissa voiced what Sophie was thinking.

      ‘You don’t look like shit. But you don’t look yourself either. What’s going on? Is everything OK?’

      Melissa unlinked her arm from Sophie’s and thrust her hands into the pockets of her jeans. It was a defensive gesture and made her look both young and vulnerable.

      ‘You don’t have to tell me. But you’ve always been there for me when I really needed you and I’d like to do the same for you, Liss. I want to help.’

      Melissa gazed up, her large brown eyes swimming suddenly. ‘I’m fine.’

      Sophie reached out and put an arm around Melissa’s tiny shoulders. Instinctively she recoiled, shocked by how thin she felt to touch, the bones jutting out to fill the palm of her hand. ‘You’re not fine. But you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I just wanted you to know that I’m here.’

      ‘Thanks.’ Melissa shrugged a wan smile and sniffed hard. She did a lot of sniffing, Sophie noticed.

      ‘Look, it’s probably none of my business but it might help if you didn’t do coke any more.’

      Melissa shook Sophie’s hand from her shoulder roughly. ‘You’re right.’ She marched quickly ahead of Sophie with a purposeful stride, before turning her head and locking eyes with Sophie, her chin tilting upwards defiantly. ‘It’s none of your business.’

      After the Brighton weekend, Melissa had gone back to work on Monday morning, wondering why she couldn’t shake off the sense of unease that had been bugging her ever since her row with Sophie. She had made Sophie promise to see her doctor, as it seemed obvious that she was suffering from postnatal depression. In return, Sophie had asked her to promise that she would stop doing coke.

      Melissa had rolled her eyes indignantly. ‘I hardly ever use it! Just when I’m on a big night out. Loads of people do it. It just gives me a bit of an extra kick.’

      Sophie had narrowed her eyes slightly, as if trying to make up her mind whether or not to believe her. ‘You honestly only do it occasionally? It’s not a regular thing?’

      Melissa had tutted. ‘No, of course it’s not! I’m not stupid.’

      ‘I know you’re not stupid,’ Sophie had countered quickly. ‘I just worry about you, that’s all. I don’t want you getting yourself into situations you can’t handle.’

      Melissa had grinned knowingly. ‘You don’t need to worry about me, Soph, I’m a big girl now and there are no situations I can’t handle.’

      But as she snorted a quick line off the toilet cistern at work that Monday lunchtime, she was reminded of Sophie’s words and a little niggling voice inside her head whispered that maybe she was getting a bit out of control. That the sordid night she had spent with a married man whose name she couldn’t remember and who, in the cold light of day, she didn’t remotely fancy, was exactly the sort of situation Sophie was referring to.

      As the cocaine hit her bloodstream, she could feel the uneasiness seeping away, to be replaced with confidence. Sophie was wrong. She didn’t need coke. She just liked it. And where was the harm if she wanted a little pick-me-up from time to time? Everyone in the music industry did it.

      The aftermath of Amy’s wedding was even worse. This time she couldn’t even remember why she might have upset some people – she just knew from the churning feeling in her stomach that she had. Over the weeks that followed, she had several sharp flashbacks to angry faces turned in her direction, with one particularly awful memory of a woman slapping her face in the toilet. She had convinced herself it couldn’t be real. Surely things hadn’t got that out of hand?

      The thing that no one seemed to understand was that she could stop at any time. She just chose not to.

      They had arranged to meet for lunch at 2 p.m. at a small restaurant up near the Royal Crescent. They were shown to a table for four in the pretty courtyard garden. By the time Melissa and Sophie arrived, Amy and Emily were already waiting for them, their numerous shopping bags laid out around their feet.

      ‘Someone’s been busy!’ Sophie climbed onto the bench beside Amy, who appeared to have the most bags.

      ‘Well, you can’t come to Bath and not spend money,’ Amy protested, giggling as she sipped on a glass of sparkling water.

      ‘Hear bloody hear!’ Melissa slid in beside Emily and immediately waved to the waiter. ‘Bottle of champagne, please!’

      Emily shot Melissa an irritated glare. ‘It’s all right for those who’ve got the money!’

      Melissa tutted. ‘Look, you chose to be a single parent. Doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be penny-pinchers too.’

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