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One More Chapter
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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2020
Copyright © Sandy Barker 2020
Cover design by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020
Cover images © Shutterstock.com
Sandy Barker asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008390044
Ebook Edition © 2020 ISBN: 9780008390037
Version: 2020-09-11
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue: Twenty-two years ago
Chapter 1: Lucy
Chapter 2: Jules
Chapter 3: Chloe
Chapter 4: The May Ladies
Chapter 5: Lucy
Chapter 6: Jules
Chapter 7: Chloe
Chapter 8: Lucy
Chapter 9: Chloe
Chapter 10: Jules
Chapter 11: Lucy
Chapter 12: Chloe
Chapter 13: Jules
Chapter 14: Lucy
Chapter 15: Chloe
Chapter 16: Jules
Chapter 17: The May Ladies
Chapter 18: Chloe
Chapter 19: Jules
Chapter 20: Lucy
Chapter 21: Chloe
Chapter 22: Jules
Chapter 23: Lucy
Chapter 24: Chloe
Chapter 25: Lucy
Chapter 26: Jules
Chapter 27: Chloe
Chapter 28: Lucy
Chapter 29: Jules
Chapter 30: Lucy
Chapter 31: Jules
Chapter 32: Chloe
Chapter 33
Chapter 34: The May Ladies
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by Sandy Barker
About the Publisher
For my parents, Lee, Gail, and Ray
Thank you for always believing in me, even when I didn’t.
Prologue
Twenty-two years ago
“Well, we’re all eleven, so it could be something about that,” said Jules.
“True, but we won’t always be eleven,” retorted Chloe.
Jules wasn’t easily intimidated, especially by someone like Chloe, who was at least six inches shorter than her. “What about The Maui Babes, then? You know, ’cause we’re on Maui.” Chloe made a face and Jules rolled her eyes. “Well, what do you think, Lucy?” she asked.
Lucy had been silently watching the other two girls, an air of awe wafting about her. She’d been reluctant to join the kids’ club at the resort—she didn’t really like large groups—but by happenstance, she’d met two girls her own age, an American and an Australian, and both of them just brilliant. “Um, I don’t mind.”
Chloe put her hands on her hips. “See? She doesn’t care. Sooo … what about …” She tapped a fingertip on her bottom lip like her mum did when she was thinking. “Hang on, when’s your birthday?” she asked, pointing at Jules.
“In May.”
“Oh, wow, me too,” replied Chloe. Lucy was about to say that she was also born in May, but Chloe talked over her. “Hang on, what day?” Chloe narrowed her eyes at Jules, hoping she was older.
“May third,” Jules replied. Where was the Aussie girl going with this?
Chloe deflated. “Hmm, mine’s the tenth,” she mumbled.
Jules clocked Chloe’s pout, not really understanding it. “So, I’m a week older than you,” she stated matter-of-factly. “What about you, Lucy?” she asked. “When’s your birthday?”
“Mine’s in May too. May seventeen.”
“Hey, that’s cool, we’re all born in May,” said Jules, right as Chloe interrupted.
“So, I’m a week older than you.” Chloe perked up as Lucy nodded at her. “Well, if we’re all born in May, how ’bout we call ourselves the May Babies? Oh, and our initials in order of our ages are J-C-L, so how about the JCL May Babies?” She raised her eyebrows and looked expectantly at her new friends.
Jules shrugged in agreement. She really didn’t care what they were called; she just wanted to wrap it up. They were supposed to be going to the beach that day and she’d finally convinced her mom to let her wear a two-piece.
“Lucy?” asked Chloe.
“Yes, that’s good. I like it. Definitely the JCL May Babies.” She pressed her inhaler into her mouth and took a slug. Lucy wasn’t used to this much excitement first thing in the morning. It was much more interesting than when her parents chitchatted about what was in the newspaper.
“Actually,” added Chloe. “Maybe ‘babies’ is a bit … babyish.” Lucy nodded, agreeing—definitely babyish. “How about the JCL May Ladies?”
Lucy grinned. “I think that’s even better. The JCL May Ladies.” She beamed at the others.
“It’s settled.” Chloe’s authoritative voice rang out over her parents’ balcony. “The JCL May Ladies are officially BFFs forever.” Jules couldn’t help but laugh. The Aussie girl was a little over the top, but she was also sorta fun.
Chloe stuck her pinkie finger in the air and, unsure what to do, Lucy pressed the tip of her pinkie to Chloe’s. Chloe tutted and Lucy turned a fantastic shade of crimson, right as Chloe hooked Lucy’s finger into her own and turned expectantly to Jules.
Jules, joining in with good nature, hooked her pinkie with the others’ and recited, “BFFs forever,” with Chloe. Lucy chimed in a beat too late, more excited than she could ever remember being. She was someone’s BFF.
“Now, JCL May Ladies …” began Chloe.
“Uh, shouldn’t we have a nickname?” suggested Jules.
“Why, what do you mean?”
“It’s just … don’t you think it’s a lot to say every time?”
Chloe, in a rare moment of introspection, was quiet. Lucy would normally have been quick to fill the silence, as it made her uncomfortable, but she waited patiently for her BFF to say something, feeling very grown up.
Finally, Chloe nodded decisively. “You’re right, let’s just go with the May Ladies.”
Lucy let out her breath, her mouth stretching to its widest girth. “Great,” said Jules, glad they’d settled on a name. “We’re the May Ladies. Now, can we please go to the beach?”
Chapter 1
Lucy
London
“Good lord, what is that smell?” Lucy bundled through the front door of her flat, dropped the keys in the catchall by the door, and dumped her handbag and laptop bag on the floor. She stepped out of her heels and, feeling the relief at once, scrunched her toes into the fluffy runner that led down the hallway to the main room, a combined kitchen-dining-lounge.
She followed the smell to discover her flatmate, Val, elbows-deep in a giant bowl. “Hiya,” chirruped Val.
“Hiya,” replied Lucy, far less enthusiastically. “What are you making?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but whatever it was, the flat would undoubtedly smell like rancid feet for days to come.
“Cheese.”
Well that explained it—somewhat. Weren’t there a thousand different kinds of cheese?
“Right, well, I’ve had quite the day and I’m opening some wine. Would you like a glass?” she offered.
“Always,” grinned Val.
“Hmm.” Val was always up for drinking a glass of wine, just never actually purchasing said wine. Lucy pulled a bottle of chenin blanc from the mini fridge under the counter and retrieved two glasses from the shelf above the sink. She poured two equal, but generous glasses and took hers to the sofa, while Val bustled about the kitchen.
The smell seemed less intense now than when Lucy first got home. She sighed involuntarily as she sank into the seat and propped her feet up on the pouffe. She sipped her wine, starting to feel the tension release from her shoulder muscles, and surveyed the flat. Every now and then, she liked to take stock of her lovely home and after a day like today, it was a calming ritual—a bit like the wine.
The garden flat was south facing with high ceilings and lots of windows, and it was filled with natural light on days when the sun dared to show its face. The main room was spacious enough for a modular sofa, a square coffee table—thank you, Mum and Dad, for the flat-warming gift—and a long, low TV cabinet along the wall. A four-chair dining suite sat in the corner near the glass-paned door to the small conservatory.
The kitchen was compact but most of the fixtures were new, including the hob, the oven, and the backsplash of white subway tiles. Lucy had sprung for an updated kitchen and bathroom when she’d bought the flat, unwilling to put up with the Victorian plumbing, which had been patched up so many times over the years, it had been on its last leg. In Lucy’s mind, a decent bath and shower were not luxuries, contrary to how she’d been raised.
That said, the updates had cost a bit and though she was exceptionally good with money, she’d stretched herself as thin financially as she was willing to go—which was far more comfortable than most people—and had got herself a flatmate to offset the mortgage.
Val was a friend of a friend of a friend and she’d been living with Lucy almost a year now. She was a nice person, Lucy’s primary criterion, but she was also a bit of a homebody, which meant that Lucy was rarely alone in her own home.
And now it smelled like feet.
“So, what was particularly difficult about your day?” asked Val. A cream-coloured blob wrapped in muslin hung from the wooden spoon she was now balancing over the bowl. Val looked well-pleased with herself and Lucy supposed it was fair when she’d made cheese—from scratch.
Lucy sighed and took a hefty swig of wine. Did she want to go through the ins and outs of her shockingly bad day? And with Val? This was probably better nutted out with Chloe, or even Jules. But Val was there, and she was a good listener—as she’d evidenced many times. And, really, it would probably feel good to tell someone.
“It’s my manager …” she began. Val set the bowl to the side, washed her hands, and came and joined Lucy on the sofa, bringing her wine with her.
“Is this the woman you said you’re unsure about? The one that just started?”
“Yes, that’s right, her.”
“So, what’s happened, then?” Val peered at her intently.
“Well, I thought we were just finding our way with each other, you know, testing the waters? But after today, it’s clear that she thinks I’m an incompetent nitwit.”
As Lucy spoke, Val leapt up for top-ups from time to time until she’d shaken the last drops from the bottle and dropped it into the recycling bin. She listened without interruption to Lucy’s litany of workplace crimes—all perpetrated by a woman called Angela, who tended towards micro-management, belittling Lucy in senior meetings and, today, undermining Lucy in front of her team.
“Hmm,” Val said, when Lucy had exhausted her tales of woe. She tapped her chin and seemed to mull over her response thoughtfully before settling on, “She sounds like a proper cow.”
It was said with such earnestness that Lucy found it incredibly funny—or perhaps it was the wine that caused the eruption of giggles. Either way, both women succumbed to fits of laugher and soon Lucy was wiping away tears—the good kind.
“Ooh,” she said, expelling a long breath. “I needed that. Thanks, Val. It did help to talk it through.”
“No need to thank me, Lucy. I feel awful for you. You love your job—well, you did. I hope it all gets sorted soon.” It was a nice sentiment, but Lucy doubted it.
While Lucy had worked in the finance department of the legal firm for eleven years, Angela had only just been hired and, apparently, she was there to “shake things up”. Lucy was starting to wonder if that was just corporate speak for “make everybody miserable”.
“Shall I order a curry?” asked Val. “Or something else? It’s on me.”
Well, this was a first. “That sounds great, Val. I don’t even have the energy to heat up a Marks & Sparks ready meal.”
“How about you run a bath while I get it sorted.”
Val’s so lovely, she thought, as she leapt off the sofa to run a bath.
Chapter 2
Jules
Boulder, Colorado
“Well, damned if I know,” she muttered to herself. Jules let her face fall into her hands, then rubbed her temples with her thumbs. She’d been reviewing and running the code for hours now and knew there was a bug somewhere, but where?
“Still no luck?” Her colleague, Wes, propped himself against her desk and she lifted her head.
“Kill me now.”
“Nah, too much paperwork. Hey, we’re going over to Pepper’s. Wanna come?”
Jules glanced at the clock at the bottom of her screen—6:22pm. And it was Friday. Go or stay? It could be hours before she found the bug and with the size of her headache, it was unlikely she was in optimal coding mode. But if she went to Pepper’s, she’d drink too much beer and probably end up sleeping with Wes—again.
Or she could just go home.
Her condo hardly called to her. It was on the outskirts of Boulder and she’d rented it fully furnished. It was a little, “Hey, IKEA called—they want their showroom back,” but she didn’t care. She’d settled into a “just fine” routine of work-home-gym, which she broke up with visits to see her family and occasional colleagues-with-benefits hook-ups with Wes … or Rob … or Arjun.
“I’m good,” she said, flashing a smile she didn’t feel. “Thanks,” she added as an afterthought. He shrugged and left. Even though they worked for a tech start-up, Wes wasn’t one of those guys who rolled out of bed and stumbled into work wearing pyjamas, a three-day growth, and the stench of the unwashed. He cared about his appearance and, not for the first time, Jules acknowledged that Wes was hot. He was also particularly good in bed.
Bed. The thought of curling up in her bed and sleeping off the headache was the most appealing one she’d had all day. Her phone buzzed on her desk.
Decided last minute to head to dads. Wanna come?
It was the lifeline she needed, time with two people from her extremely short list of favourites. She tapped out an affirmative response before saving her work and shutting down her computer. Will’s next text popped onto the screen.
Pizza or sushi?
As much as she loved sushi, Colorado was hardly the place for fresh seafood, and she’d yet to find a local sushi place that didn’t disappoint. Good takeout pizza, however, was plentiful.
Duh.
She watched the dots flicker on her screen, then stop, then start again, before her brother sent her a triple emoji reply that got her laughing for the first time that day—actually, it had been days since she’d laughed.
Forty minutes later, she was reclined on her dad’s couch, a craft beer in one hand—a new brew from one of her brother’s clients—and a slice of prosciutto and feta pizza in the other—both a nod to the “Hipsterville” status of her hometown.
“So, how’s the app?” asked her dad. She knew he didn’t really know what she and Will did, other than that they were both software developers working on their respective apps, but he knew enough to ask the question.
“It was being a shit today, actually,” she replied. She wiped some grease from the side of her mouth with her thumb knuckle. “I’m going to have to do some work this weekend.”
“Not tomorrow, though, right?” asked Will. “We’re still going biking?”
“Biking is on.” She wouldn’t miss it. It was supposed to be eighty-two degrees tomorrow—perfect weather—and Boulder Canyon Trail was a favourite of hers. Besides, busting out the mountain bikes with her baby brother was just the panacea she needed after the week she’d had.
“Awesome. I can take a look at that code, too, if it’ll help?” Will offered.
“Maybe, but I don’t wanna think about that right now.” She popped the last of the crust into her mouth and washed it down with some beer before reaching for another slice of pizza.
“Anything else new with you, sweetheart?”
“Not really, Dad. I still hate everyone but you two.” Will barked a laugh at her retort and she joined in with a soft chuckle.
“Hey, we could watch a movie,” her dad suggested. He needn’t have said anything. It was what they always did—choose some movie that she and Will had seen, but somehow her dad hadn’t, then she and Will would talk through it, driving her dad crazy. “How about the new Star Wars movie? Rising Skywalker, or something?”
“Do you mean The Rise of Skywalker, the one that came out forever ago?” asked Will. He threw Jules an our-dad-is-so-adorable look.
“I think so, yeah.”
“Sure, Dad, sounds good.” Jules and Will had seen the movie opening weekend—and they’d already watched it again at his place—but it had been too long since the three of them had had a night in like this, too long since Jules had felt surrounded by love and the ease of “just being” that came along with it.
She vowed not to let so much time pass before the next time.
Chapter 3
Chloe
Melbourne
“It couldn’t have held off for five more minutes?” Chloe frowned out the window at the pelting rain as the Uber neared the drop-off point.
“We should have brought umbrellas,” said her bestie, flatmate, and colleague, Ash.
“If we did, it wouldn’t have rained.”
“Exactly. Hashtag Melbourne.”
Chloe shook her head at Ash. She wasn’t sure when Ash had picked up the habit of saying “hashtag” but maybe she was doing it ironically.
The car pulled up next to the rear entrance of their building. “Here you go, misses,” said the driver. Ash and Chloe shared a look across the back seat. “Ready?” asked Ash.
“Nope, but let’s go.” They opened their doors in sync and, heads down, stepped out into the deluge, the door slams barely making a dent in the soundscape of the mid-winter storm. Ash ran around the back of the car and met up with Chloe, who was fumbling with her electronic fob at the door.
“Damn it! Of all the times to play up.”
Ash reached across her and waved her own fob in front of the panel and the glass door slid open. They burst into the foyer and straightened up, eyeing each other before dissolving into laughter. “I am so wet,” said Ash, shaking her hands.
“Title of your sex tape,” retorted Chloe. She wiped rain from her face and pressed the button to call the elevator.
“Good one. So, who gets the first shower?” They each had their own bathroom, but the hot water pressure in their flat was so low, only one of them could shower at a time.
The elevator announced its arrival with a “ding”, and they got in for their short ride to the fourth floor. “You go, but be fast,” said Chloe. “I’ll make some eggs or something.”
“Breakfast for dinner? Will you marry me?”
“Yeah, well, consider it a reward for being so awesome today. That event, Ash, you killed it.” Her bestie beamed at her, just as the elevator said, “Fourth floor,” in a sexy voice that had never made any sense to Chloe. Why would anyone hire a voice-over artist who made arriving at the fourth floor sound like she was announcing an orgasm or something?
*
“Delish. Thank you,” said Ash, as she stood and took Chloe’s plate from her.
“It was just eggs, Ash.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t have to make them.” Ash loaded the dirty plates into the dishwasher and started cleaning up the rest of the kitchen. “Hey, so I was going say something before, but I’ve been going back and forth, and I wasn’t really sure until today, but …”
“Say it …” Chloe’s words turned into a yawn.
“What do you think of Carl?”
Chloe cut her yawn short and peered at Ash. “Well, he’s fantastic at social media, but I’m guessing you don’t mean that.” What did Ash mean exactly? She’d only just come out of a long-term relationship and this was the first time she’d mentioned another guy.
Ash continued her clean-up. “He’s kinda sexy, don’t you think?”
Chloe decided to keep her reply light. “Uh, no, not really. And if you think so, then you don’t want me to think so.”
“Hah! You’re right. It’s just … I caught him watching me a couple of times tonight, and did you see how weird he was acting when we said goodbye?”
“Sorry, Ash, I must have been too shattered to notice Carl’s unobvious flirting.”
“He’s incredibly smart, like incredibly.” Ash draped the wet tea towel over the handle of the oven door, flicked off the kitchen light, and re-joined Chloe on the couch.
“You’re incredibly smart too, Ash.” Ash shrugged her shoulders, her usual way of deflecting a compliment. “Anyway, I haven’t worked that closely with him,” continued Chloe, “but props to him for that Insta campaign for tonight. It was pretty impressive.” The campaign had been unreal, but Chloe was tempering her enthusiasm for all things “Carl”. If she’d been a betting person, her money would be on Ash getting back together with her ex.
Still, maybe a distraction was something Ash needed. She clocked the wistful look on Ash’s face. “So, you’re into him?”
“Maybe. But what are you not saying?”
Ash knew her tells too well, but there was no way Chloe was going to spill about what she was actually thinking. “Uh, nothing, it’s just … maybe it’s the name—Carl,” she said, going with something that was partly true; she didn’t like the name.
“Oh, come on. What’s wrong with ‘Carl’?”
Good, she bought it, Chloe thought. “Eh, it’s like Kevin, or Bruce—just …” She mimed shivers running up her spine.
“Carl in Love, Actually is the hottest guy in the movie,” countered Ash.
Chloe chuckled to herself. “Yeah, true. Oh, wait, there was Andrew Lincoln too—”
“But he played the shitty best friend who was all stalkery with Keira Knightley.”