Sophie and I have always been thick as thieves, ever since we were little. Life, in its great wisdom, only tightened our bond. She moved to London for university, settled there like she owned the place, landed a job, and rented herself a cosy flat. Despite the miles, we never drifted apart. She’d pop round for the holidays, and we’d gossip on the phone like old ladies in a tea room.
By the time I hit twenty, I was married with a little daughter of my own. Fast forward to last year, my husband and I decided to up sticks and move to London too, and, as luck or fate (or my persistent nagging) would have it, we ended up renting a flat in the very same neighbourhood as Sophie.
Now, Sophie is twenty-seven and had been single for ages, much to my confusion. Shes the sort to turn heads on Oxford Street, so why shed been flying solo was beyond me. Then, out of the blue, Sophie announced she was finally seeing someone. Naturally, I was positively giddy and begged her to introduce me to her chosen one. She just winked and said it wasnt the right time yet, all mysterious-like.
The grand introduction happened about a month later. David moved in with her, and her sister invited my husband and me over for tea (and possibly low-key interrogation). The first time I clapped eyes on her fiancé, I nearly choked on my scone. He looked at least thirtypossibly older if you counted the years his face had seen at the pub. His general appearance was somewhere between forgot to wash and gentlemans edition of misunderstood artist. Lets just say, he wouldnt win a prize for grooming, unless the prize was Most Likely Mistaken for a Park Bench Resident.
My husband and I exchanged glances over the tea trayif eyebrows could talk, ours would’ve written a novel. Later, I learned that David was unemployed and his formal education fizzled out after GCSEs. Not quite the knight in shining armour I’d pictured for my brilliant, educated sister.
I simply couldnt fathom how Sophiebright, beautiful, and sharp as a tackhad ended up with him. I tried to talk it over with her, voicing my worries with all the tact of a worried sister, only for her to snap at me to keep my nose out of her life. She even declared she wanted a baby with him, which, I confess, made me splutter into my tea. The thought of her having a child with someone like David gave me chillsand not the good, Christmassy kind. I struggled to understand her choice; no matter how you sliced it, it just didnt make senseeven for people with wildly different tastes.
