Nothing New for Sophie Drew: a heart-warming romantic comedy by Katey Lovell (best autobiographies to read .txt) 📕

May

Chapter 11

I’d been floored when Darius had suggested meeting at McDonalds. Usually he’d have put forward the idea of a bistro at Sunday lunchtime, somewhere small and exclusive, an upcoming place that would be the most in-demand booking in the area the following month. But when he’d texted to confirm the meeting he’d mentioned Summer would be with him, and that she’d been pestering him for junk food all morning, so the fast food joint it was. My heart had clenched with love at the thought that I’d finally get to see Summer again.

The place was rammed – full of families giving in to their little treasures’ demands for Happy Meals – and so very, very noisy. I get why it’s popular. The food might not be the most nutritious, but it’s warm and quick, and kids eat it without kicking up a stink.

I pinched some French fries between my fingers before popping them into my mouth. Their salty flavour started my mouth watering so I sipped my Diet Coke to quench the onset of thirst, all the while wondering where Darius was. He was late.

A man sat down next to me, smiling apologetically as his two sons bickered loudly over the plastic toys that came in their boxes of food. The older boy, a freckly red-head with a gappy grin, eventually gave in, handing his sibling the more-coveted toy, which looked to me to be identical to the other, but orange, rather than yellow.

I was shoving another handful of fries into my mouth when Darius appeared at the top of the stairwell. His eyes skimmed the crowds before falling on me and a grin broke out on his face.

With his wavy dark hair and his prominent features he looked handsome, and he was, as ever, immaculately dressed. His pristine white shirt was unbuttoned at both the top and the bottom, which would look knobbish on most men, but Darius pulled it off because he was annoyingly attractive. The same went for his shorts – knee-length and a sandy shade a designer would probably describe as camel – which should by rights be hideous. Darius managed to make them look stylish. I barely noticed the tray he was holding, I was too busy taking in the familiar contours of his face.

As they drew closer I caught my first glimpse of Summer, dressed in clothes as bright and sunny as her name would suggest. She was noticeably taller than the last time I’d seen her. Her glossy dark hair was shorter; no longer well past her shoulders, instead cut level with her jawline with a gigantic red bow clipped to the crown of her head. She looked older than seven, and I deserted my lukewarm fries and half-empty drink to run and greet her.

“Summer!” I pulled her into my chest, dumbfounded to find she was so tall that her head propped up my breasts. “I’m so glad to see you.”

I didn’t want to let her go, but stood back to appraise her. Everything about her was exquisite, from her dark eyes to the deep pink of her lips. She looked like the children you see in adverts for kids clothing. No grubby hands, no ketchup stains on her sunshine-yellow T-shirt. She was pure and sweet, and bright as the proverbial button, and seeing her in the flesh was acutely painful.

“I’m staying with Daddy this weekend,” Summer said, matter-of-factly, her accent pure Liverpudlian. “Mummy and Daddy Rob are on holiday.”

Darius interrupted before she could elaborate. “Come on then, Summer, let’s dig in before our lunch goes cold.”

We sat around the plastic-topped table; Darius and Summer wolfing down their burgers as though they’d not eaten in weeks, whilst I nibbled at my chips, which were far less appealing cold. Even their appearance was disappointing; soggy and saggy and limp, adjectives that are never positive no matter what they’re describing.

“I thought we were going to talk.” I nodded pointedly in Summer’s direction, knowing we’d not be able to openly discuss Nadia if Summer was sat with us. Summer was a clever girl who picked up on everything, and from the information Darius had given me over the phone, the conversation wouldn’t be suitable for little ears.

“I thought we could go somewhere afterwards. Summer can burn off some steam and we can catch up properly.” The way he said it, slowly and purposefully and with his eyes lingering on me, caused my stomach to flip. I couldn’t decipher if it was with lust or fear.

When we’d been dating, Darius and I would take Summer to soft play whenever she was in Newcastle. She’d loved the ball pools, and I’d find myself climbing in with her, pushing the disturbing stories of toddlers who weren’t yet toilet trained having accidents amongst the rainbow-coloured balls out of my mind. At first I’d been sure people could tell I wasn’t her mum, but I soon realised people don’t scrutinise for a family resemblance. If they see a woman of child-bearing age with an infant they make assumptions, and although I knew it was wrong, I’d let them. I would never have introduced myself as Summer’s mum – that would have been weird – but I didn’t correct those who’d said “oh, isn’t she a darling! You must be so proud” or, “I bet she gets away with murder with that cheeky smile, doesn’t she?” I was only playing a role, but it was one I loved.

“Can we go to the trampoline park? Please, Dad. You know I love it there.”

Summer pressed the palms of her hands together as though praying. Her voice carried the merest hint of whininess. She knew how to play the game. Where Darius was concerned, Summer could get away with murder.

“Whatever you want, precious girl.” He grinned before taking a bite of his Big Mac. He swallowed down the burger before turning to me and saying, “And I’d like to see Sophie on a trampoline.”

“What? No! I’m not dressed