Nothing New for Sophie Drew: a heart-warming romantic comedy

by Katey Lovell

  “I know you do, and I’m grateful, but–”

  “Ssh,” he said, placing his index finger against my lip. “No buts. You’ve got this, Sophie Drew. Do you hear me? You’ve got this.”

  And as the doors swung open, the chatter of potential customers filling every corner of the large hall, I started to believe him.

  Chapter 34

  “Hector! Hector!”

  I battled to stifle a smile as Andrea beckoned her husband. Max’s dad was carefully carrying a cardboard box filled with cakes bought for the next day’s family get-together. It was heartening to see him looking good and moving, albeit slowly, without his stick. “Look at how talented Sophie is. Aren’t these beautiful?” she said, fingering at a beaded bracelet that was a particular favourite of mine.

  Hector nodded politely. “Very nice.”

  “I think Mum’s hinting, Dad.” Max laughed. “Christmas will be here before you know it.”

  “Oh, don’t.” Andrea pulled a face. “I’ve got so much to do between now and then. I don’t want to think about it. I’ve got a list that I’m working my way down to make sure I don’t forget any of the essentials. First thing tomorrow I need to call the butchers to order a bird, then I must make a start on the cards going overseas.”

  “It’s not last posting day yet, is it?” I asked, flustered. “We’ve got family friends in Adelaide to send to.”

  “Mum always likes to make sure she gives it plenty of time,” Max explained. “There’s probably another fortnight before the actual final day.”

  Andrea threw Max the death stare, but it wasn’t long before her face cracked into her usual warm affectionate smile.

  “There’s nothing wrong with being organised,” she pointed out. “Speaking of which, I wondered if you were planning to come around at all on Christmas Day, Sophie? I wouldn’t ask, but I’m going to do the food shopping online this year except for the meat and the fresh veg.”

  Hector raised his eyebrows. “She means she’s ordering the booze online.”

  “Not just the booze, Hector,” Andrea chided fondly before looking at me. “There’s all the nibbles as well. Cheese and biscuits, chocolates… He seems to think they magically appear in the cupboard ready for when he’s flaked out on the sofa in front of the big Christmas film on BBC One.”

  “I hadn’t thought about Christmas Day,” I admitted. I’d been so consumed with planning for fayres that the day itself hadn’t even crossed my mind. “I’d love to see you at some point, but I’ll be at my mum and dad’s in the morning with my brother and his wife and their children.”

  “Well, you’ll be very welcome to join us in the evening if you want drinks and board games,” Andrea offered. “Although you know my boys are very competitive, so it sometimes gets a bit out of hand.”

  “It’s you who causes the arguments with your cheating,” Max said lightly.

  “Nonsense!” But Andrea discreetly winked at me.

  “That sounds lovely. Can I let you know for sure when I’ve spoken to my mum about her plans? She’s coming here later, I think.”

  “Absolutely,” Andrea nodded, “and if you can’t come Christmas Day then you’re welcome Boxing Day or whenever else suits. I know Max wants you around.”

  “Thanks, Mum.” Max rolled his eyes. “I’m sure if Sophie wants to come then she will.”

  “I wasn’t meddling,” she insisted, picking up the bracelet and folding it into his palm. “I just wanted to make sure Sophie knew you’d want her there.”

  “I’m sure she knows that already, Mum.”

  “Now, seeing as your dad isn’t taking the hint, you can buy this bracelet for me for Christmas,” she said to Max, nodding to the bracelet in his hand. “It’ll go perfectly with the dress I’m wearing on Christmas Day. It’s exactly the same shade of green.”

  We were interrupted by the squawky cries of two tiny babies – my nieces – who were strapped into a double pram and wrapped in matching crocheted blankets made by their loving Auntie Sophie. Nick, pushing the girls, was with Chantel, Noah and my parents.

  “Hi!”

  I wrapped my brother up in a hug, then my sister-in-law before ruffling Noah’s hair as he started touching my wares.

  “How’s business?” Dad asked, bending down and kissing my cheek, after I’d introduced him to Max’s family.

  “She’s already sold a bracelet to me because Mum was dropping endless hints,” Max said.

  “And I’ve sold a few felted Christmas decorations,” I said proudly. “Hopefully it’ll get busier as the day goes on.”

  “It will,” Mum said, picking up a knitted Santa that Noah had taken a shine to. “I’m going to buy this Father Christmas toy for Noah, for starters,” she said, rifling through her purse for change. “I’m really proud of you, you know.”

  I nodded. I knew.

  The fayre had been brilliant; if not a roaring success, far more than the whimper I’d anticipated. I’d sold a fair few items and my confidence had been bolstered by so many familiar faces coming to show their support. Besides mine and Max’s families, Kath (who’d looked at the eye masks I’d made and actually vocalised that she thought they’d make good blindfolds for use in the bedroom) and Norma came by. She’d been looking for a present for Joel and Finley. When I explained the similarities between the rainbow I’d embroidered onto a pair of oven gloves and the Pride flag, she’d snapped them up, never mind that the boys ate out at least five times a week and rarely made anything from scratch.

  As Max unlocked the front door of my house, I was unpacking the boxes of remaining stock from the back of Max’s Mini, taking extra care to transport the most fragile objects even though I’d used layers of protective bubble wrap, when my phone rang.

  “Aren’t you going to get it?”

  “Nah,” I said to Max, who was carrying a black bag full of cushions I’d made and the cashbox containing my takings. First glances had suggested I’d made a decent profit and I was chuffed that it wasn’t only our families who’d bought my makes. “If it’s important then they’ll leave a message or call back.”

  The ringing stopped, before immediately starting up again.

  “What were you saying?” Max laughed.

  “I’d better answer it.” I sighed, even though it was a withheld number.

  An unfamiliar voice started talking from the other end of the phone, speaking in such a chirpy tone that I was convinced the woman was trying to sell me something. I tried to interject, but she kept on talking at me, until I eventually gave up and listened.

  “So,” she said, “I’m delighted to announce that you’re our winner! We can’t wait to make a public announcement so we were wanting to arrange a photoshoot with you. We’ve a big cheque with your name on it, literally.”

  My mind was racing, my heart was racing, but my body froze as the news sank in. Max looked at me with confusion, mouthing “Who is it?” Based on my lack of words he probably thought it was bad news.

  “And you’re sure it’s me? There’s not been a mistake?”

  “Your name was selected at random and there’s definitely no mistake,” she confirmed. “Like I say, we just need you to come to the office to pick up the cheque and have some photos for advertising purposes, as you agreed to when you entered the competition.”

  “How much was the prize again?” I asked, barely able to breathe let alone speak. My chest felt as though a vice was crushing it.

  “Five thousand pounds.” She said it so plainly, as though it was nothing, when that would pay off the remainder of my debts and still leave me with a small amount to go in my Christmas fund.

  “Thank you,” I managed, my head swimming as she told me where I needed to go and when.

  “What was all that about?” Max asked after I hung up.

  “You’re never going to believe this,” I said, sinking to sit on the bottom step of the stairs. My legs were like two strands of cooked spaghetti and I didn’t trust them to hold my weight. “Do you r
emember when we were at the hospital fayre back in the summer and we gave our email addresses for that mailing list?”

  Max nodded vaguely, probably just humouring me, but I continued anyway.

  “There was a prize. And I’ve won.”

  Max’s eyes widened. “No way. That’s fantastic!”

  “It’s a lot of money. Five thousand pounds.”

  “Wow.” Max sat down. I wondered if his legs were as wobbly as my own. “You hear about people winning these kind of prizes but never think it will actually happen to someone you know.”

  “I know. I’m going to their offices tomorrow to have photos taken with the chief exec and one of those ridiculous giant cheques they give to lottery winners.”

  Max shook his head. “That’s crazy.”

  “Tell me about it.” My hands were trembling. “It’s enough to clear all my debts.”

  “That’s incredible. It’s a fresh start for you. A new beginning.”

  He wrapped me into a hug and I gladly leant into him.

  “It feels a bit like cheating my way out of debt.” Voicing what I’d been feeling since the phone call was harder than I expected. It sounded kind of stupid saying it out loud. “It’s not a Disney movie. I don’t deserve a fairy godmother turning up and offering me the solution to all my problems out of the blue.”

  “You’ve slogged your guts out with work and craft to pay those debts off. You’ve sold your possessions. You deserve this as much as anyone.”

  Max’s words were a balm and I clung to him tightly.

  “Things like this don’t happen to people like me,” I said as a tear rolled down my cheek.

  Max used the pad of his thumb to wipe it away. “This time they do.”

  His words only made me cry even more desperately.

  It took more than a few deep breaths for me to prepare myself to share my other news.

  “There’s something else too,” I started, my voice wobbling. “You know how my periods are irregular?”

  Max nodded slowly.

  “I’ve not had one since the start of August. At first I put it down to the stress of being ill, but now I’m not sure.”

  “Do you think you could be…?” Max’s voice trailed off, as though scared to tempt fate.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never gone this long without one before.”

  “Have you got a test?” he asked quietly. “Or do you need me to go and buy one?”

  Suddenly I was viewing Max differently, not just as a lover, or a partner, but as a dad. His strengths – his kindness, his gentle nature, his good humour – would make him a lovely father.

  “There’s one in the bathroom cabinet,” I said.

  We climbed the stairs without words, Max waiting outside the bathroom as I forced myself to wee on the absorbent end of the pregnancy test, trying desperately not to sprinkle on the plastic handle and all-important window.

  I flushed and washed my hands as normal before joining Max on the landing to find out the result together, nervous bubbles popping in my stomach.

  “Ready?” I asked, my whole body trembling.

  “Ready,” he confirmed.

  I turned the test over in my hand, gasping as I read the one word that stared back at us – pregnant.

  Max threw his arms around me as I stood, dazed.

  This was it. A fresh start. A new beginning.

  To be continued…

  Sophie Drew will return

  Acknowledgements

  This book has been a long time in the making which means there are a lot of people who deserve a mention – getting a book to publication really is a team effort!

  Without further ado I’d like to thank:

  Everyone at Bloodhound Books for believing in Sophie’s story, with special thanks to Betsy Reavley, Tara Lyons and Morgen Bailey for your input.

  Julia Silk – this book wouldn’t exist without you.

  Philippa Ashley, Mary Jayne Baker, Brigid Coady, Miranda Dickinson, Josie Silver, Lynsey James, Keris Stainton, and all the Wordcount Warriors, A***-Kickers and Beta Buddies for your continued support and friendship.

  Nicola, Jade and Caroline for answering my questions about Newcastle.

  My friends and family, who’ve put up with me talking about this book for the past four years and haven’t disowned me (yet).

  And last, but by no means least, thank you for choosing to read Nothing New for Sophie Drew. It really does mean the world to me.

  Katey Lovell, Sheffield, March 2021

  A note from the publisher

  Thank you for reading this book. If you enjoyed it please do consider leaving a review on Amazon to help others find it too.

  We hate typos. All of our books have been rigorously edited and proofread, but sometimes mistakes do slip through. If you have spotted a typo, please do let us know and we can get it amended within hours.

  info@bloodhoundbooks.com

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