We used to be best friends…
Magda used to be the girl everyone wanted to be – most likely to achieve her every wish. That is until suddenly her perfect life seems to be anything but!
Sophia has never regretted her life, sure it isn’t perfect, but being a single mum to a daughter she loves is pretty great. Perhaps she never moved away from home, or got to live out her dreams, but what she has right now isn’t so bad.
That is until an invitation to their school reunion arrives, throwing both their lives into a spin – because these two used to be friends and it might finally be time to face up to that one big mistake that happened all those years ago…
Praise for REBECCA PUGH
‘a warm, heart-warming, enticing story.’
– Sophie, Reviewed the Book
‘I really loved this book from start to finish, I really didn’t want to put it down, it’s what a story should be, a lovely modern fairytale of a book.’
– Candy Hart
‘I loved this debut novel and found it to be a comforting and enjoyable read perfect for cosying up in front of a warm fire.’
– Sincerely Book Angel
‘It was entirely satisfying and heartfelt.’
– Paris Baker’s Book Nook
‘What I thought was boy meets girl is so not the case. There's romance, mystery, and heartbreak.’
– Bookaholic Babe
Also available from Rebecca Pugh
Return to Bluebell Hill
A Home in Sunset Bay
Down on Daffodil Lane
Right Here Waiting for You
Rebecca Pugh
REBECCA PUGH is a twenty-four-year old writer from Shropshire. She signed her first two-book deal with HQ Digital UK back in 2014, and her debut novel ‘Return to Bluebell Hill’ was published in June the following year. Since then, she has written another three novels and is now working on her fifth. When Rebecca is not writing, she can usually be found reading, both of which are her greatest passions in life. Some of her favourite authors include Holly Martin, Cathy Bramley, Sarah Morgan and Jill Mansell.
In Rebecca’s opinion, there is nothing as delicious as curling up with a good book, a cup of tea and a whole new fictional world to discover. There really isn’t enough time for all the books she plans to write and read, but she won’t let that put her off.
Acknowledgements
I’d like to say a special thank you to everyone who has helped in the creation of this book. To the wonderful HQ Digital UK team, for believing in me and my work. To my utterly fantastic editor, Victoria Oundjian, for being there every single step of the way, cheering me on. To the book-bloggers and readers who have got in touch to say that you’ve enjoyed one of my books, and to share in the excitement with me. I adore you all and your enthusiasm cannot be matched. To my Mr W, who is the best motivator in the world, and our Bonnie, for keeping me company while I write. I am so grateful I get to share this journey with so many special people.
There is a certain type of friendship that is capable of lasting a lifetime. I am lucky enough to have a few of them.
Contents
Cover
Blurb
Praise
Book List
Title Page
Author Bio
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Extract
Copyright
Chapter One
Magda Crossley was seventeen years old when she discovered she could give herself an orgasm. She could remember it as if it had only happened yesterday when, in fact, over eleven years had passed.
It had been a Friday night, and she’d been hanging out down by the harbour with the usual faces. She and Sophia had spent the night laughing and joking together while the lads had messed about just ahead of them, tackling each other and sharing cigarettes in a tipsy daze. Once the night had drawn to a close, Magda had stumbled through the short walk home and tumbled into bed. On a drunken whim, she’d decided to experiment with her body.
The bedroom walls had spun as the cheap and colourful alcohol they’d all nabbed from their parents’ drinks cupboards rushed through her veins. Perhaps if she’d had no alcohol in her system, the discovery would never have been made, but in that moment of confidence and curiosity, Magda’s world suddenly took on a brand-new meaning. They’d done sex education in school, and they’d covered masturbation while she and the other girls sniggered behind their hands, but Magda had never been tempted to find out more until that night.
The discovery of the orgasm and how it could make Magda feel was a revelation. In her mind, if a woman was capable of providing herself with such pleasure, then what the hell did she need a man for? The physical power she suddenly held over herself was indestructible and it gave her a completely new persona. No longer had she been the shy and timid one of the group. She became the most confident. The most brazen. The one the other girls began to look up to. They had no idea what had sparked off this new side to their friend, but they liked it, and so did Magda. She knew no male could give her anything she couldn’t give herself and it made her feel ten feet tall.
Afterwards, jelly-legged, with her knickers around her ankles, she’d gazed at her bedroom ceiling in the darkness and wondered why on earth she’d spent so much of her teenage life lusting after Tom Archer. All the local girls had a thing for him. It had been something of a trend back then, to have a crush on Tom. If you didn’t, there was obviously something wrong with you. It was sad really, especially for Tom’s mates, because none of them ever got a look in. They were gangly and immature compared to their leader, who seemed to ooze confidence, intelligence and sexiness.
A deep grunt brought Magda from out of her memories and back into the present day. Remembering where she was and what she was doing, she risked a quick glance at the head bobbing up and down between her legs and shifted slightly on the upholstered chaise longue. As grand and luxurious as the hotel room and its furnishings were, she was beginning to get uncomfortable, and couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he was going to be.
The thing was, he wasn’t really in the right area. The poor man was licking at an ineffective part of her woo-woo but seemed to think he was the bee’s knees, putting his heart and soul into it. Really going for it. But alas, with his frantically roaming tongue nowhere near her clitoris, it was barely having an effect at all. He’d been down there for quite some time now, and due to her lack of enjoyment and inability to focus, her mind had wandered, resulting in her not being in the mood for a sexy time at all.
Not that she’d even been in the mood in the first place, not even when she’d settled in the bar downstairs in her tight red dress with the hem deliberately raised, showing off plenty of thigh. He’d practically been salivating when he’d arrived and the realisation that she was the face behind usern
ame DevilishlyDaring123 had dawned. He hadn’t been able to believe his sheer luck, and she knew he hadn’t been expecting someone like her. It might have sounded vain but it was true. She was a sexy woman, she wasn’t going to deny it, and she enjoyed seeing men appreciate that. It hadn’t taken long for her to persuade him up to the room, and it hadn’t taken long for her to tempt him out of his clothes either. He’d stripped himself down and made a move almost as soon as they’d stepped through the door.
She stared in boredom at the ceiling as the barrage on her vagina continued down below, and managed to muster up a few groans and moans of desire that she hoped sounded more genuine than they were. She forced her eyes shut, and at the same time tried to force herself to focus on the moment, to catch and roll with the sensations, but it was no use. He clearly didn’t have a bloody clue what he was doing, and Magda was one hundred per cent confident she could do a better job herself. Maybe she should have drawn him a diagram before they’d got down to the nitty-gritty, to show him what was what beforehand. If anything, whatever he was trying to achieve down there had become an annoyance rather than a pleasure. She didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop though. He’d seemed so confident downstairs in the bar. This was a real, true-to-life example of a man who could talk the talk but not walk the walk. It didn’t take long for Magda to decide she was going to fake it, just like everything else in her life, mostly in the hope that doing so would make his departure arrive faster, and that wasn’t a euphemism. She was tired of his presence now.
The evening hadn’t made her feel any better about herself, which was what she’d originally been hoping for. It had been the same with the others too. It occurred to her then that she sounded like the kind of woman she had once upon a time despised. One of those women who found themselves unable to stick to just the one man. But there was a story behind it all, a reason for her actions. A pathetic one but one which existed all the same. Like a serial killer had a motive, she had one too, although she wasn’t planning to murder this man. God, no! She simply wanted him to get off her vagina, get dressed and leave.
‘Oh yes,’ she hissed. Magda spread her legs further apart and gritted her teeth. ‘Keep going. I’m so close now. Don’t stop.’ She performed perfectly, ensuring her voice held the right amount of breathlessness that desire often evoked. Sadly, desire had completely left the building. Magda was half tempted to get up, go to the window and wave goodbye to desire as it hopped in its car to race as far away from this place as possible. ‘I am so close.’ She writhed a little as she ran fingers through hair, tugging and tightening her grip. Her acting had the desired effect and, with added gusto, he worked harder and faster, his tongue flicking manically (again, in the wrong place).
Unable to take it a second longer, Magda arched her back and let out a scream of desire. She opened her mouth wide as the animalistic sound came flooding out and filled the room. She tugged harder on his hair and then rolled her body as if the sensations were crashing over her. She was even able to make her legs shake as they normally would if orgasm had been achieved. It was a performance worthy of ten stars, she thought.
‘God, that was amazing.’ Much to Magda’s relief, he finally removed his wet mouth from her nether regions and wiped it with the back of his hand.
Magda sat up and looked at him with faux admiration, pretending to regain her lost breath. ‘It seems your hands aren’t the only thing you’re talented with.’ Before they’d come up to the room, he’d told her that he was an up-and-coming artist. Not that it even mattered. She couldn’t have cared less about what he did outside of their rendezvous. He could have been anybody. He’d looked attractive in the photos he’d sent in the lead-up to their meeting, or those few that showed his face. He was very fond of his penis because it had featured in the images he’d sent more than once, erect and standing to attention with his fingers wrapped around it. Imagine this inside you, he’d written. Magda had done exactly that but it hadn’t affected her in the slightest. Another penis attached to another man. Sex had become meaningless in her efforts to get even.
‘I’m shaking.’ Magda held her hands out in front of her and they both watched as they trembled, as if a measure of how well he’d done. Again, it was entirely fake, but he seemed pleased with himself and his efforts and stood up to his full height. Six feet something. He towered over her.
His penis hung limp in front of her face and she tried her best to avert her gaze from where it was dangling between his legs. Then again, she’d had it in her mouth an hour or so ago, wet with her saliva, so now was hardly the time to act coy. She wished he would put it away though. For some reason, the unbidden thought of him, wind milling his penis round and round in front of her, flashed into her mind and she had to force herself not to snort at the scene playing out in her imagination.
‘I would have stayed down there all night if you’d asked me to,’ he said, moving his hips from left to right and watching his penis as it moved. Realising what he meant, Magda managed to stop herself from physically recoiling from the offer. Just the thought of his mouth getting anywhere near her lady garden for a second longer made her vagina want to shrivel in on itself. Already, it felt sore from his relentless tongue-probing. ‘Mind if I use the bathroom?’ He hitched a thumb in that direction and smiled a confident smile.
‘Go ahead.’ Once he’d closed the door behind himself, Magda stood and pulled on the silk kimono she’d brought along with her. It did little to warm her up. Feeling underwhelmed and deflated, not to mention physically and emotionally exhausted from her performance, she looked around the room and wondered what to do with herself now that it was all over. With no other ideas surfacing, she poured herself a glass of champagne from the complimentary bottle and wandered with it towards the window.
It was hard to make out anything in the darkness that had fallen, but she knew from when she’d arrived earlier that the grounds of the hotel were spectacular, perfectly pruned and delicately peppered with ornate statues and stunning flower gardens she could get lost in for days. She couldn’t help thinking that they should be, considering the price she’d paid for an overnight stay with breakfast included. There were other features like the pool and the gym, but she’d be making no use of those. It was a quick in-and-out job, so to speak, and tomorrow morning she’d be gone as if she’d never been there at all.
As beautiful as it was, the acres of land surrounding the hotel made her feel isolated and, not for the first time, frighteningly alone. She sipped from the glass as her mind wandered towards old friends and older places. She felt hopeless, and the emotion washed over her, growing stronger as she remembered all those wild and fanciful dreams she’d had as a teenager. Life had turned out to be so very different from how she’d imagined and, with a sigh, she turned abruptly from the window, as if doing so would cut off that train of thought instantly.
When had she veered off the right path and stumbled down this one? Had there been a specific point in which everything had changed? If so, she found it impossible to pinpoint the exact moment. She’d been happy once. She was sure of it. Her memories told her so, and the sad thing was, she was beginning to have more faith in them than in the present day. She’d stopped living for the now and, more and more often, found herself wanting to rewind time so she could do it all again, have the chance to do it all differently. She often fantasised about it and wondered where she’d be now if she’d made different choices.
Magda shuddered as a memory of her Aunty Cassandra surfaced, who she’d found snogging one of her dad’s work friends in the upstairs bathroom during a Christmas party when she’d been little. Her aunt’s husband had been downstairs in the kitchen, asking after his wife, and the whole time Aunt Cassandra had been upstairs, rolling a condom over another man’s willy. Even back then, Magda had known it was wrong and felt disgusted. But all these years later, wasn’t she doing the exact same thing? Wasn’t she just as bad?
She needed the emotions and memories to recede.
She wanted them to return to the little box in the back of her mind where she kept them locked up tight. It hurt her to admit it, but alcohol was becoming something she was turning to more and more often. It helped to a certain extent, or she pretended it did, but the morning after an evening spent indulging in an alcoholic binge full of hope, she usually realised that her problems remained, only now with a banging head to go alongside them. It was becoming a vicious and never-ending cycle she could see no escape from.
The sound of a ringing phone broke the silence. Magda turned and eyed it from across the room, watching as the screen flashed. Only when it had stopped ringing did she choose to approach it, but she already knew whose name would be on the missed call notification. Her assumption was proven correct when she snatched up the handset with a shaking hand and saw that the caller was him. She switched it to silent and dropped it in her bag. Out of sight, out of mind. Probably.
‘Listen. I’m going to shoot off. You don’t mind, do you? Only I’ve got a meeting first thing in the morning that I can’t afford to miss. The thing is, I’d really like to spend the rest of the night here with you, but you know how it is.’
‘That’s fine. I understand.’ Magda tried to rein in her enthusiasm over his finally leaving. She wanted nothing more than to climb into the big soft bed and close her eyes. She wanted him gone and she wanted to forget this whole thing had happened, forget that all the other things had happened too. The men. The sex. They’d all been attempts to make herself feel better but had only ever slapped her back in the face. She was not the woman she had become. She looked at the man standing before her, buttoning up his shirt.
She didn’t fail to notice how his eyes travelled down the length of her body. She tugged the kimono tighter around herself but it did little to hide the lengths of creamy skin that remained on display. Stupid, useless thing.
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