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Nothing New for Sophie Drew

Katey Lovell

Copyright © 2021 Katey Lovell

The right of Katey Lovell to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance to the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

First published in 2021 by Bloodhound Books.

Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publisher or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

www.bloodhoundbooks.com

Print ISBN 978-1-913942-50-2

Contents

Love Women’s, Contemporary Fiction ?

February

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

March

Chapter 4

April

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

May

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

June

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

July

Chapter 28

August

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

November

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Acknowledgements

A note from the publisher

Love Women’s, Contemporary Fiction ?

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For anyone who has ever felt they are not enough

February

Chapter 1

“Show me again,” Eve demanded, wrapping her hand around the door handle. “You’re supposed to look surprised, remember.”

My jaw dropped, my eyes widened and my hands flew to my cheeks, the way I’d seen actors in films behave when unexpectedly delighted. It might work in Hollywood, but I, quite frankly, felt ridiculous.

My best friend’s lips curled, her expression somewhere between disappointment and disapproval and she shook her head at my efforts, her perfectly coiffured chocolate-brown bob swaying from side to side. That, along with the two deep-grooved vertical lines that appeared between her eyebrows, was enough to tell me my acting abilities were well below par.

I don’t know why Eve expected me to be able to conjure up an on-the-spot Oscar-worthy performance. We’d been in the same GCSE Drama class at comprehensive school, both of us scraping passes. Neither of us excelled when it came to treading the boards. Eve was the brainbox who loved any scientific geekery and I was creative, but textiles and crafting were my mediums of choice, not performing. Our friend, Tawna, the third point of our friendship triangle, hadn’t been much good at anything at school, other than snogging boys around the back of the sports hall.

“No, Sophie, just no! It’s meant to be a surprise. Don’t over-egg it or they’ll think I’ve told you.”

“But you did tell me,” I reminded her. “If you were better at keeping secrets in the first place we wouldn’t be in this position and I wouldn’t need to act surprised because I would actually be surprised.”

“I wish Tawna hadn’t trusted me with getting you here,” Eve grumbled. “She knows I’m rubbish at keeping my mouth shut.”

Eve had always been the same. Back when we were at school, cocky teenagers with our skirts rolled up at the waistband to show off our pale, skinny legs, Tawna and I never shared who we were crushing on with Eve unless we wanted her to put the feelers out with the clichéd “my friend fancies you” line. She’d never been able to engage her brain before opening her mouth. For someone so clever she spent a lot of time in a dreamworld, and one which didn’t align with real-life in Newcastle. The phrase ‘away with the fairies’ could have been coined about Eve.

I picked a speck of fluff from the sleeve of my black velvet dress – bought especially for what Tawna had dubbed my birthday night out, although Eve had already told me it was a party – ready to make my grand entrance. If all eyes were going to be on me, I needed to look my best. That had been my thought process when I’d teamed the dress with a pair of sky-high sequin-coated silver heels and a thick diamond choker. I’d had it a year but never worn it, but I’d come to the conclusion that when it comes to partywear there’s no such thing as too much sparkle. I’d also stopped at the salon for a spray tan on the way home from the office, splashing out on a manicure and pedicure as well, seeing as I was there.

My credit card had taken quite a hammering and I hoped people would shout me a drink or two to celebrate the upcoming milestone birthday, because my card had to be edging closer to its limit. The bank had taken to sending me daily texts about my current account too, informing me I was well over my agreed overdraft limit. But I didn’t have time to waste worrying about my finances. A bar full of people were waiting for me to make an entrance.

“I won’t tell her you mentioned the party,” I promised, “although she must’ve known you’d not be able to keep something as huge as this to yourself. Come on, let’s get it over and done with. I could do with a drink. Pretending to be in the dark is stressing me out.”

A raucous cheer of “Surprise” rang out as Eve pushed the door open.

I pulled my best “I really had no idea this was going to happen” face, as Jane from work offered me a hug and Tawna, wearing a little black dress so skintight that I suspected she may have had to have be sewn into it, pressed a glass of something fizzy into my hand. The bubbles tingled pleasantly against the roof of my mouth as I took a large, grateful gulp. The alcohol hit

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