***
Sophie looked round the flat, walking through the rooms, saying goodbye to each one. Her bedroom floor was lined with packed cardboard boxes, just like when she first moved in. A triple tower of tea cartons contained books and the suitcases were filled with shoes. The boxes all waited to be carried into her little red Volkswagen Beetle.
Her breathing quickened. She hoped she was doing the right thing, leaving Carol whilst her friend was riding the wave of stardom. Sophie traced her steps back to the kitchen, taking the recent postcard she’d received from her parents in the Mediterranean. Placing the postcard in her cluttered handbag, she knew it was only a matter of time. They would come out of the recession just fine.
The doorbell rang. She took one last look around the house, feeling incredible warmth. She ran to the front door and pulled it open.
“I can’t wait to move out…” she began, and then stopped talking, seeing the same portly policeman she had met once before, although in very different circumstances. Her back stiffened, and she held her breath, wondering what he would say.
“Miss Sophie Smart?”
Oh no. She closed her eyes. “Yes. That’s me.” She opened her eyes, supporting herself on the doorframe, wondering what his news was this time, hoping it wouldn’t be something chaotic.
“I thought it was you. You look a lot different from the last time I saw you. You’re blond now.”
She ran a hand through her hair and then quickly flattened the front of her dress. The fabric flowed down beneath her breasts, so much so that she could have a Marilyn Monroe moment if a gust of wind blew by. She gave the policeman a sidelong glance, wondering why he stood on her doorstep.
“I thought I would drop by as soon as I heard. I saw some excellent news pass my desk.”
Her hands gripped the doorframe. “What’s the news?”
“I heard your dad got a job. I saw the official paperwork. He got the sign-off. I came to tell you just in case, you know, he was holding out on the truth.”
A smile lit up her face, and she leapt from the step and hugged the policeman. “Yes, I know. Thank you. I thought you were going to tell me something bad like last time.” She stepped back, realising she’d overstepped a boundary, again.
The policeman’s cheeks reddened. Then, tipping his hat and waving slightly, he stepped backwards toward the street. “Well, good luck with the move, Miss Smart.”
“Thanks again,” she said, watching the policeman walk to his car. “Good day to you.”
Standing on the street, she knew she would miss this house in Highbury.
A figure approached from the very end of the street. Matthew. She wondered how long it would take to get her boxes packed and then unpacked in their new house. His car was probably parked a mile up the street.
She ran to meet him, waving to get his attention, and then saw she already had it. His gaze was fixed on her and his brilliant blue eyes shone. She threw her arms around his neck. She’d miss the house, but she’d miss Matthew more if she didn’t go.
Hugging him, she kissed his face, knowing they’d already shared one adventure together, learning to swim. Holding his hand, she was ready to start something new, together, and wondered whether she could possibly teach him something. She furrowed her brow, contemplating the possibilities. Anything was possible with Matthew. She’d even learned that trusting a man was possible.
“Ever been trekking in the jungle, Soph?” he asked.
She gazed into his face, seeing a mischievous glint in his eyes.
No, she’d never been trekking in the jungle, and her chest constricted as she thought of tarantulas falling off fronds and spiders’ webs caught in her hair. God. She also had arachnophobia—a fear of spiders. And she’d just faced her fear of drowning. When did a girl get a break?
Was it possible that she was one of those scaredy-cat type of girls? Scared of life and living? But Matthew didn’t seem scared of anything at all, and she trusted him. She’d take him up on his challenge because she was safe with him. And her heart was safe with him.
With trust, they’d do something she would never have dreamed of, something exciting, something memorable, or something unimaginable. They’d do something. Together. Daring and non-prudish. Something like skinny dipping.