Page 89 of Midnight in Paris

‘But Libby. You deserve it. Happiness. Or the possibility of it. What happened to me was… well, all sorts of horrible. But that’s the lottery of life, I suppose. And you can’t let it hold you back. Make you afraid. Maybe it’s even more reason to seize happiness if you have a chance of it?’

‘Maybe you’re right.’

Sophie nodded. She wasn’t quite sure where the words had come from; somewhere deep inside she’d thought had died alongside Tom. But she’d believed every word as they’d fallen from her lips. You shouldn’t fear life, she thought. You just had to live it. If Tom’s experience had taught them anything, it should be that.

They sipped their drinks silently.

‘Nearly time,’ Sophie said, looking at her phone.

‘Cool. Shall we order some more drinks for the interval?’

‘You know, what if I did start liking Will. I mean, what would you think of it?’ Sophie found herself blurting.

‘Well,’ Libby said carefully, ‘I’d think it was a good thing. Finding someone. And we’ve known Will for years – he’s a good guy.’

‘He is.’

Libby leant slightly against the table. ‘You know there was a time, at first, when I thought you might end up with Will? Before it all took off properly with Tom.’

‘No, you didn’t! Did you?’

‘Well, yeah. You two just seemed…’

‘Seemed what?’

‘Well, like a fit I suppose.’ Libby shrugged as if the information she’d just imparted were no big deal.

‘And you didn’t think that about me and Tom?’ Sophie felt an unexpected flash of anger.

‘Well, no. Not at first. But then I thought, well, what do I know?’ Libby shrugged. ‘People are attracted to each other for all sorts of reasons. You and Tom were kind of like, well, chalk and cheese. You seemed really different from each other… but sometimes I think we’re attracted to people for that reason, aren’t we? You know, we fill in each other’s gaps.’ She smiled.

Ordinarily, Sophie would have had something to say about Libby’s choice of words, but she was too – what? Incensed? Shocked? Interested? ‘What, complete each other?’

‘Well, yeah. If you’re into romcom terminology. Yes.’

‘So not chalk and cheese then?’

‘OK, maybe not. Cheese and pickle?’ Libby suggested.

Sophie’s mouth turned up, involuntarily almost. It was impossible not to love Libby. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘Thanks, I guess.’

There was a shuffle of people as the time for the performance to start grew closer. People began to return glasses, to make their way to their seats or to join the queue for the loos. Libby got up as if everything were ordinary. As if she hadn’t said something that, to Sophie, seemed life-altering.

‘But,’ she said. ‘Seriously. You didn’t think Tom and I… well, would work out?’

‘I didn’t say that,’ she said. ‘Just at first you seemed different. But you proved me wrong, didn’t you?’

Sophie was quiet. ‘I guess we did.’

The melancholy that washed over them both whenever Tom was mentioned stilled them for a moment.

‘Come on,’ Libby said decisively, linking her arm through Sophie’s. ‘If we’re going to be “misérables”,we might as well make the most of it. It’s starting soon.’

But Sophie wasn’t ready. ‘So you think that… I mean, Will and me… That it’s OK? That if I… we… saw each other a bit, it wouldn’t be a betrayal of Tom?’

‘Course not!’

‘Even though Tom and I said we’d be together forever? I mean, I made a promise, Libby.’

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