Nothing New for Sophie Drew: a heart-warming romantic comedy - Katey Lovell (best english novels for beginners .txt) 📗

confident they’d attract plenty of interest. Some were from limited runs, others one-offs. I vowed to take photos and upload them to the sites, promising myself everything I made would go towards paying off my credit card.

The items in the charity pile were still in good condition but not such high quality. I crammed the clothes into a large blue Ikea bag – the floaty green dress I’d bought especially for the dirty weekend Darius and I had had in Barcelona, a pair of ill-advised white jeggings that I’d bought on a whim and worn once, a striped off-the-shoulder Bardot top I’d worn to death last summer. Leather trousers that were too tight around the thighs, and a winter coat that had plenty of wear left in it but that wasn’t really “me” anymore. And jeans. So many pairs of jeans.

Cleaning out my wardrobe was a long, but pleasantly liberating, experience. It was good to regain control, to feel proactive. I didn’t have a fairy godmother waving a magic wand to rid me of my debts, but I didn’t need one. I’m Sophie Drew, a fully grown woman who’s made her fair share of mistakes, but who’s slowly but surely getting her act together.

A glance at my alarm clock showed it had taken five hours to organise my wardrobe. FIVE HOURS. No wonder I was shaking with caffeine withdrawal symptoms and craving carbs. The double helpings of trifle felt like a long time ago.

I chopped a cucumber to within an inch of its life (nothing worse than really thickly sliced cucumber – it makes me gag) and threw that and the last of the block of cheddar in my fridge between two doorstop slices of bread. Tiredness engulfed me. Family lunch followed by a session of Marie Kondo-ing had really taken it out of me. I gladly sank into my usual spot on the sofa, managing two bites of my sandwich before my head slumped back against the cushions. Patterns from the clothes in my wardrobe danced hypnotically before my eyes and I fell into a well-earned deep and restful sleep.

The sun, shining with an unapologetic ferocity, stirred me from my slumber. Confused by waking, fully clothed, on the sofa, I reached for my phone, stabbing at the screen to see the time. Shit. I’d been asleep for twelve hours straight. It was just gone nine o’clock on Monday morning, and I was late for work. Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

I hurriedly changed out of my wrinkled clothes, cringing as I used half a can of body spray in lieu of having a shower, then grabbed an apple, a hair bobble and my bag before slipping my feet into a pair of shimmering gold sandals and speed-walking to the Metro stop.

When I was safely on the Metro I pulled my phone from my pocket and called the office, relieved when it was Kath who answered the phone.

“I’m going to be late.”

“You’re already late,” she pointed out. “And Marcie’s on the warpath. She’s rabbiting on about a missing file. You’ve not picked a good day to oversleep.”

“I didn’t plan it, did I?” I huffed. “One minute I was eating my sandwich, the next I was dead to the world. I must have slept through my alarm.”

I’d dreamt about Max again, which was another reason waking had been a struggle. Nothing saucy, but that didn’t matter. We’d been climbing Mount Everest, dressed head to toe in burnt-orange snowsuits with a couple of huskies for company. Max had still looked attractive, even buried beneath an enormous fur-trimmed hood.

“If I were you I’d stop at the supermarket and bring cakes. She’s already on one. Grovelling is your best chance.”

The thought of spending unnecessary money on Marcie’s favourite treat – cream horns from the bakery counter – wasn’t appealing. And of course, if I rolled up with something for Marcie, I’d have to buy cakes for Jane and Kath too. Marcie’s wrath was even more fearsome. As my line manager she’d be within her rights to discipline me if she saw fit. My back was well and truly up against the wall.

“Thanks for the tip. If she asks where I am, tell her I’m on my way and should be in by ten.” I crossed my fingers, knowing it’d be tight.

“Just get here quickly. For our sakes, as well as your own.”

I exhaled as I ended the call, puffing my cheeks out like a puffer fish. Trust me to be late when Marcie was already in one of her moods. Since she’d started going through the change she was prone to mood swings. I only hoped that bribery with pastries would be enough to keep her sweet.

I survived the week, barely. My unplanned and unwanted Monday morning lie-in had thrown me, and I’d been playing catch-up for the rest of the week. I was convinced Marcie upped my workload to teach me a lesson. Even the cream horns hadn’t placated her.

“Friday night.” Jane bent down to retrieve her bag from beneath her desk. “And boy, am I ready for the weekend.”

“Me too.” Kath raised her arms above her head and gave a super-suggestive shimmy. “I’m out on the pull tonight. Hot, single and ready to mingle.”

“Modest too.” I smiled to show there was no malice in my words, whilst wishing I could have a pinch of Kath’s new-found confidence. Twenty-three years she’d been married but since her divorce Kath seemed to have found a new lease of life.

“Are you out in town tonight?” Her question was directed at me. Neither Jane nor Marcie was the type to be out on the tiles to celebrate the start of the bank holiday weekend, much more likely to be settling in for the night with their significant others and a Chinese takeaway.

“I’m going to Tawna and Johnny’s.” I groaned, wishing I’d turned down Tawna’s invite. “I’d rather have a night in, if I’m honest.”

Eve couldn’t make it and I wasn’t in the mood for