Right Here Waiting for You: A brilliant laugh out loud romantic comedy. Rebecca PughЧитать онлайн книгу.
her thoughts, and Magda sniffed and hurriedly brushed it away. It wouldn’t do to cry. After all, where had it got her in the past? She knew about crying your heart out. She’d done plenty of that with her back against the locked bathroom door of her en suite. There’d been no need to lock it really. Greg wouldn’t have come looking for her in there. He was oblivious to her upset ninety-nine per cent of the time, and the one per cent when he did notice something was wrong, he chose to ignore it anyway. Stupid, stupid man. For the umpteenth time, Magda felt relief wash over her at being able to spend some time away from him. It would do her the world of good. But what followed was dread at the thought of going back to him afterwards. Well, she just wouldn’t think about that yet. She had plenty of time before her return, so until then, she’d push Greg completely out of her thoughts and focus on what was waiting for her in Worthington Green instead.
Already she felt more like her old self, which was always the way when they spent time apart, as if being away from Greg allowed enough room for her original personality to come back. It was odd, how much she’d lost, when back then she’d only been able to see the things she’d gain, which, in hindsight, hadn’t turned out to be a lot at all.
Turning the volume of the car radio up to drown out her negative thoughts, she hummed along to the song playing and focused on the road. She made a few stops on the journey for coffee and snacks, just to keep her going until, finally, she passed by sights that looked all too familiar. An old windmill she’d been fascinated by as a little girl whenever her father had driven past, conjuring up a fairy-tale quality that had held Magda spellbound. There were the old factories too, now empty and unused and a bit of an eyesore on the otherwise picturesque landscape. With the sky the blue of a watercolour painting, Magda felt her heart lift at the prospect of being here again. She had missed it more than she cared to admit.
The car continued to trundle along, slower now she’d entered the town of Worthington Green, and Magda gawked through the window at her surroundings. The familiar streets and pavements and shops and cafés had hardly changed at all. In fact, it was as if she’d never been away. Soon enough, she was heading down the winding road that led towards the harbour and the tired old homes that were some of the very first to have been built there. As she passed the row of houses that led to her father’s, she wondered about the people inside them. Were they still the same neighbours she’d known growing up? Or had those people moved on with their lives and set up home somewhere far away from this place? There was a strange sort of feeling taking over her. Almost as if time had stopped during her absence and only now that she’d returned were the hands of the clock beginning to tick-tock again.
‘I can’t believe you’re no longer a virgin. What was it like? Did it hurt?’
Sophia bit her lip. ‘I don’t know how to explain it, really. It was like… nothing I’ve ever felt before. It did hurt a bit, but it’s supposed to during your first time, isn’t it? He was so gentle though.’
Magda squashed down the urge to ask more. She didn’t want to seem too interested in it. But she was. She wanted to know every single tiny detail of what it was like to have sex with Tom Archer. She looked at Sophia, tried to spot if there was any difference in her best friend now that she’d done the deed, but there was nothing obvious that had changed. She looked a bit glowy in the face, but that was expected.
‘I can’t believe it. You’re a proper grown-up woman now.’
Sophia laughed. ‘Hardly. He still makes me go all giggly when he kisses my neck.’ She snorted at herself. ‘I guess it’ll be your turn next. We need to find you a man, Magda Crossley.’
‘I’m more than happy to wait for the right one to come along,’ she replied. ‘Until then, I can just live vicariously through you.’
‘Of course you can,’ sang Sophia, dancing around the room.
She was in the throes of young love, and Magda couldn’t ignore the pang of jealousy she felt.
The door to the salon closed behind Sophia as she stepped inside. She smiled at Cath when the stylist looked up from her appointment book. Situated behind her desk, she closed the thick black book with a shriek and flung her hands in the air in delighted surprise. The noise seemed awfully loud in the quiet salon and Sophia couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Hi, Cath. How are you?’ She made her way towards the desk, feeling warm inside at Cath’s familiar face, which was beaming at her.
‘Sophia! It’s been too long, doll.’ Cath, who had known Sophia since she was a young girl, rushed out from behind the desk, lunged towards her and enveloped her in a massive hug before taking a step back to frown at Sophia’s hair. ‘Far too long, it seems.’ She didn’t look impressed, and lifted a strand of hair before eyeing the wispy ends as if they were about to bite her. Sophia felt an old memory begin to resurface.
‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ Sophia looked at the two boxes of hair dye in her hands. They’d got them from the chemist’s on the way home from school, and now they were in Sophia’s bedroom, about to open the boxes and get started.
‘Of course it’s a good idea!’ Magda bounced on the spot. ‘Look how cool they are! We’ll look like a couple of pop stars when we go to school tomorrow morning. Everyone will want to copy us.’ Magda winked.
‘But won’t we get sent home or something? I mean, when I said hair dye, I meant normal colours. But I’ve got pillar-box red, and you’re about to turn your hair bloody purple!’
‘Oh, Sophia. Stop worrying. This is exciting. Don’t you want to stand out? We’re going to look ace. The girls will be so jealous of us.’
Sophia eyed the box in her hand. ‘Hmm…’
‘Right. That’s it. No more time to think about it. We’re doing this right now.’ Magda tugged on her hand and pulled her out of her bedroom and down the hallway to the bathroom. Magda shut and locked the door behind them. ‘Who’s going first? Me or you?’
Suffice to say, their moment of glory when they’d got into school the next day had lasted only until they’d stepped into their classroom. The teacher had gasped and they’d both been sent home, not allowed to return until their hair was back to normal. They’d laughed about that for ages. Sophia swallowed. It was that bloody invitation. It was bringing it all back to her. She focused on Cath.
‘It’s not that bad, is it?’ She suddenly felt self-conscious and wished she’d made the appointment to have her hair sorted out sooner. It was the same old story though. She’d intended to, but had just never found the time or forgotten.
‘Nothing your old Aunty Cathy can’t sort out. It’s a good job we’re not busy. Come on, take a seat and let’s sort you out, girl.’
Cath led her to an empty seat and, as she began to snip away with her scissors, asked Sophia how her parents were. ‘I tell you, I couldn’t believe it when I heard they’d left. They’d always seemed pretty settled to me, your folks. Happy and that. I was quite surprised when they went through with it. I suppose I thought they’d pull out at the last minute but they didn’t. Off they went. I was so shocked.’
‘You and me both,’ said Sophia. ‘But they’re both very happy in their new home and that’s all that matters, isn’t it? I think you can grow tired of a place if you’re there for too long, and perhaps that’s how they were beginning to feel here. They lived here for forty odd years so it’s understandable in a way.’ She shrugged. ‘Still, they’re not too far away for a visit off me and Esther. I think they like having that distance between us, you know? We’re not in each other’s pockets but they’re still there, if we need them.’
‘I understand. I suppose it’s more of an occasion when you and Esther go to see them, rather than popping in and out all the time. Lift your head up for me, sweetheart. There we go, perfect.’ Cath snipped some more. ‘And what about you, Sophia? Is there a man on the scene yet? Anyone special in your life?’
‘Not