by Nicky Wells
Quickly, I uncovered a plain brown box. It was flat and quite square and it looked just a little on the posh side. I had been receiving a few boxes like that recently, but this one definitely didn’t contain a ring.
“Well, it’s not a ring, this time,” Rachel pointed out helpfully, echoing my thoughts.
“No, I guess it isn’t,” I mumbled.
But we were both wrong, sort of. Inside the box was a necklace made of white gold with a unique little pendant. Rachel simply gasped when she saw it and exclaimed that it was exquisite. I had to wipe away a blur of tears before I could examine it closely.
Right there, in the center of the box, sat half my engagement ring from Dan. It had been cut right down the middle, including the mysterious blue stone, flanked on the right side by the glittering diamonds. On the left side, the halved blue stone had been re-set so that it wouldn’t fall away from the remainder of the ring. The entire ensemble had been set on a very slim whole ring that acted as a kind of ‘frame’ to hold the pendant together and join it to the necklace. But the frame was so slender that you could barely notice it, and my half-engagement ring just seemed to float on the necklace somehow. It was truly the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and the most touching gesture I had ever received.
“There’s a little note,” Rachel pointed out gently, when she saw that I had regained some composure. And indeed, there was a little white card tucked in at the top corner of the box. I pried it away and turned it over. It said, “I told you, you wouldn’t win that easily…” Underneath, Dan had scrawled his name, a smiley face and three kisses. Now, the tears fell thick and fast. What had I done, turning this man away?
“You did the right thing,” Rachel whispered, reading my mind as ever. “And he’s letting you go this time. But you clearly meant a lot to him.” She gave me a hug. “Shall I put it on for you?” she asked, already removing the necklace from the box and placing it round my neck.
“I can’t wear it,” I yelped in dismay.
“And why ever not?” Rachel replied calmly. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. No one has to know what it’s all about. But it’ll remind you of…well, the biggest, most amazing romance any girl could ever experience. Isn’t that something?”
“How do you know I want to be reminded?” I grumbled, but I let her put the necklace on me anyway.
“You do. You will. Trust me,” she lectured and fastened the clasp. “There. It looks pretty.”
I had to go to the ladies’ room to study the effect. I had to concur with Rachel: this was the most stunning, most unusual piece of jewelry any girl could own. I fingered it gently and decided, what the heck—I would wear it, always. Like a talisman.
At the end of the day, I found a little news clipping on my desk. Rachel had put it there before skipping out early to meet with Jordan for a quick drink before our night-in at home. It was a little feature article on the lead singer of Tuscq, compiled by one of the tabloids—goodness, they caught on fast! Dan smiled out from the picture, a curvy blonde on his arm. It gave me a little stab to see him with someone else so quickly, even though she was clearly a burger. But then I looked closely, and closer still.
There, on Dan’s chest, nestled the companion piece to my necklace.
I reported to Tuscq’s dressing rooms first thing on Friday morning, as instructed, to cover the final show of the revival tour. Things were manic and I stored up plenty of good material from the word go. The band greeted me like a long-lost friend. I got the sense that I would always be welcome, that I had become almost part of the tour family. Dan gave me an inconspicuous, harmless little hug, but I could tell in his eyes that he had been awaiting my arrival eagerly. When he saw that I was wearing the necklace, his face lit up and he touched his fingers lightly to it, as though to confirm that it was there. I merely grinned at him, having clocked right away that he was still wearing his half. Somehow it was comforting to know that we were connected in some kind of way.
And would be…always.
If anyone else noted the necklaces that we wore, nobody said anything. In fact, there were no probing allusions or any kind of banter at all regarding Dan, myself, and a future. The show was fantastic, as I had anticipated. With the romantic and sexual tension out of the way, I was able to savor the gig like I had never before, paying attention to the music and the stage routines and the fans’ reactions.
My last column went down a storm and Rick wrote me a second bonus check that bowled me over completely. He also offered me the promised deputy editorship in any section of the paper that I fancied, and I asked for time over Christmas to think about where to go next. News or entertainment? That would be a difficult choice now.
The weekend after the last gig passed lonely. Rachel was busy with Jordan again. She had confessed to me, rather coyly, that Jordan had proposed and that she had said yes. While this news had me gobsmacked, I was also completely over the moon for these two, who had both been looking for their match for such a long time. I had no doubt that they would last. Rachel still owed me her thunderbolt-and-lightning story, but what with her engagement and happy cloud, she had begged off spilling the beans for a little while longer. She didn’t want to spoil her happiness.
So Rachel was busy with Jordan, and I, no longer used to the single scene, opted to spend Saturday and Sunday at home rather than launching myself into a singles club crowded with people desperate to score during the seasonal jollities. I was too raw and too tired to face anything like that in the near future. Or maybe even in the longer-term future.
Instead, I went to the library and decked myself out in a stack of crime novels. I picked up a DVD for Saturday night and then another one for Sunday night and got myself my favorite pasta dish involving enormous king prawns from my favorite Italian restaurant just down the road. I had a bath and shaved my legs, deciding that I would stay lovely and smart just for myself. It was quite invigorating to smooth and cream my body for nobody or no reason in particular other than looking after myself. I put on my pajamas and lit a host of candles in the lounge. I left the curtains open so that I could admire the little Christmas lights that I had tacked around one of the sash windows. They twinkled prettily against the rainy darkness of the December night. Next weekend, I would go home for Christmas, and then it would be a new year soon.
Having had on offer and within reach everything I once thought I had wanted—a steady life with a solid, caring man and a glam life with a creative, gorgeous rascal—I had learnt a lot about myself and what I wanted from this existence. Through many turns, I had come full circle, even if that meant I had ended up on my own. I had lain to rest old ghosts and longings. I knew I was finally ready to meet my real soul mate. Wherever, whenever.
Epilogue
It took another year and a half before I had my own personal thunderbolt-and-lightning.
Tuscq is still going from strength to strength after the revival tour re-launched the band’s career. I love following the band’s antics in the glossies, providing, of course, that I’m not covering them myself. On half a dozen occasions over the past eighteen months, Dan or Jack have asked me to cover shows or write exclusive interviews. I have a lot of freelance work out of this side of my career, much to Rick’s ostentatious annoyance. Secretly, I know he is thrilled for me, particularly as I keep steadfastly refusing other papers’ offers in favor of my deputy-editorship on the news desk for Read London.
Every few months or so, Dan takes me out for dinner. And even though that felt weird at first, we have struck up a solid, and truly platonic, friendship that makes me happier than any relationship we could have had. Needless to say, we never sleep together anymore. That’s a line we can’t afford to cross, and we both know it. But we still both wear our necklaces.
Rachel and I are still best friends, and I am to be bridesmaid at her and Jordan’s wedding in the spring. Talking about weddings, I stumbled across an engagement announcement in the society section of the Times and the Daily Teleg
raph just last week. It looks like Tim and Dina have found each other after all and are preparing to have a proper, predictable life together in the suburbs. The happy couple had splurged to have a picture included with the announcement they had placed in the Telegraph—that must have cost them a bomb– and they look happier than I could ever have wished for. I sent them a congratulatory telegram on a whim—for once doing the prim and proper thing that Tim would have so loved me to do while we were together—and then worried that the gesture would be perceived as weird.
And yes, I still live in my lovely little flat in Tooting. In all this time, I have not managed to move, but I have finally managed to convince my landlord that he really wants to sell the place to me and we are due to exchange contracts next week.
Tonight, I am singing in my second choir concert. I joined a small choral society a few months ago, discovering that I am a first alto rather than a soprano, which would explain my persistent difficulty in hitting the right notes on all my favorite love songs. We will be performing Fauré’s Requiem in a little church in South Kensington. It still amazes me—and Dan—that I can combine within myself a love for hard rock and love for classical choral pieces. But then again, some of these classical pieces are pretty loud and pretty rough.
Just now, I am whizzing around my flat in a panic, trying to determine what clothes to wear. The altos and I have planned to hit a few wine bars after the concert. Or perhaps we’ll just go to someone’s house. Eventually, I settle on the infamous navy trousers and white shirt. My favorite outfit ever since, you know…
The dress rehearsal goes well. I’m totally consumed with the music. And then the church fills up and the concert is set to begin. I am gripped with nerves. Ok, so I don’t have a solo—and thank goodness for that—but I’m not the world’s most confident singer even among a group of others, and there are moments in this piece that have definite solo potential for those that don’t count their beats properly, as our conductor keeps reminding us. There is the usual pre-concert buzz and, not for the first time, I wonder if this is how Dan feels before a performance. Today’s concert has a special, poignant importance for all of us as we have decided to dedicate it to Victor, one of our members who has recently been claimed by cancer. Given that the average age of our group is about thirty, and given that he had been the heart and soul of many a choir gathering, we have all been strangely affected by his death.
I am concentrating on my breathing, sitting quietly in my pew and absent-mindedly observing last minute orchestral shuffles when a guy from the bass section catches my eye. He is quite tall and very good-looking in a lovely, chunky, hunky kind of way. Although he should be sitting in his seat waiting for the concert to begin, he has just got up and is making his way to the front, jostling past the other singers, clutching a piece of paper. I can tell that he is nervous as his eyes keep roaming restlessly back to front, left to right.
Suddenly, they latch onto mine. For a few seconds, the world stands still as our eyes lock. His are the nicest, kindest eyes that I have ever seen. They are round and sparkly and the color of melted chocolate. Music seems to be roaring in my ears and I feel faintly dizzy. A prickle is running down the back of my spine and the hairs at the nape of my neck stand to attention. Those eyes…
Suddenly, I know without the slightest shadow of a doubt that this is the man I will marry. And I also know, without the slightest shadow of a doubt, that this recognition is mutual. He stands stock-still as though hit by lightning, and I can almost see the electricity arc between us.
The moment passes as he resumes his walk and I wake up as though from a trance. I elbow Theresa, my pew neighbor and new choir friend, sharply in the side to get her attention.
“Hey, who’s that?” I murmur in her ear. She follows my gaze to see who I’m talking about.
“Ah,” she murmurs back, “That’s Steve. He’s a friend of Victor’s, and he’s going to read the dedication tonight.”
“Oh, right. Steve.” I whisper under my breath. “Well, Steve, I must talk to you somehow, tonight.”
Coming in February 2013:
Rock Star Romance, Part 2
Dear Reader
If you’ve enjoyed Sophie’s Turn, you might like to know that the sequel is coming from Sapphire Star Publishing on 7 February 2013!
Sophie’s Run
When life refuses to go to plan, Sophie takes drastic action.
Who says that the road toward true love is straight and even? Sophie is certainly discovering that it is anything but.
So she has finally found the man of her dreams. Well…she knows who he is, even though she hasn’t actually quite met him yet. When she misses her opportunity, her life goes crazy. Rock star and ex-fiancé, Dan, keeps getting in the way of her new romance—even if he is just trying to be helpful. A fire, an impromptu mini-trip with Dan, and a dreaded wedding later, Sophie is still struggling to meet the love of her life. Just as she is getting it together with her perfect man, best friend Rachel commits an act of unspeakable betrayal. And to top it all, her new boyfriend leaves her lying in the mud.
Sophie has had enough. Confused and distraught, she decides that it is time for radical change. Surprising herself and shocking her friends, she embarks on a secret that eventually gets her life back on track.
Intrigued?
Visit me at my blog at http://nickywellsklipert.wordpress.com/ and sign up for regular updates and news. I look forward to meeting you there!
Best wishes,
Nicky
Table of Contents
Title Page
Prologue
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
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Epilogue
