LITMIR.BIZ

       Prologue

      Last December – The Friday before Christmas

      *Wicked – My choice*

      I’ve always considered myself a modern woman. That’s why I’d planned to ask Justin to marry me that night.

      It would have been a risk, me being the one to do the asking, because in many ways he’s an old-fashioned guy. A traditionalist – well-mannered, sweet, polite. But I’d been so sure that the time was right for our relationship to shift up a gear that I’d been willing to take the chance.

      After all, we’d been together since our last year of secondary school. We must have passed each other in the corridors hundreds of times before that and we’d even been in the same maths class for a while, but we hadn’t exchanged so much as a word until that fateful April day in Year 11 as we waited to audition for the annual summer show. That year it had been Guys and Dolls and I’d had my heart set on the role of Sarah. Miss Adelaide might get the show-stopping numbers, but Sarah was quieter, calmer. Prim and proper, but determined beneath the façade. Truth be told, she was a lot like me.

      I’d been nervously wringing my hands together as I waited to sing the audition piece of ‘I’ve Never Been in Love Before’. I can still recall the twisting sensation in my stomach, churning like one of those Slush Puppy machines at the seaside.

      Justin had been sitting next to me and he’d seen how worried I was, how badly I’d wanted the role. Musicals were my ‘thing’ and if I was cast in a minor role or – heaven forbid – not at all, my confidence would be severely knocked. Justin had spoken to me in a tone that was immediately soothing, telling me I’d shine as Sarah. He’d been the perfect distraction, listening intently as I waffled on anxiously about how I thought I might throw up on my shoes. He didn’t recoil at that frank revelation, instead smiling reassuringly until it was my turn to perform on the makeshift stage in the sports hall that reeked of floor polish and sweaty feet.

      Thanks to Justin I’d kept my cool, holding myself together to pull out a performance to be proud of – one that got me the very role I’d been coveting. I’d been over the moon.

      In contrast, he hadn’t gone through with his audition in the end. Being as tone deaf as he was, it was probably a blessing. I’d never been a Brando fan, but even his version of ‘Luck Be a Lady’ was far superior to the adaptation Justin had mumbled under his breath as he sat next to me that day. At least Marlon got the words in the right order.

      I later found out that the only reason Justin had planned to audition at all was to spend time with me. That was a relief on two counts – firstly that he’d considered getting up and making a twat of himself in front of half the school proved he was serious about our fledgling relationship; and secondly because it showed he wasn’t one of those deluded people who can’t hold a tune for toffee but secretly thinks they’re going to win the next series of the Saturday night talent show on TV.

      Ever since that audition day we’d been together; through the stressful last term of school, into sixth-form college and sharing the first five years of our twenties. Things had become increasingly serious, the single drawer of ‘essentials’ that Justin had in my cosy bedroom at the house Issy and I shared on Cardigan Close had, over time, turned into a whole chest of drawers. Justin had practically been a fixture or fitting himself; as much a part of the furniture as the sofa that took up half the lounge, or the comfy armchair in the corner of my bedroom which I refuse to get rid of despite the threadbare material on the armrests (much to my housemate Issy’s chagrin).

      He was my other half, the love of my life, and that’s why I’d steeled myself up to pop the vital question. I couldn’t envisage a future in which we weren’t together.

      Justin and Monique.

      Monique and Justin.

      We were meant to be. I knew it.

      As we’d left the house that evening, hurrying out onto the cobblestoned street and into the dome-roofed Hackney cab that took us to the city centre, I remember thinking it would be a night to remember for all the right reasons. But I was wrong. Boy, was I wrong.

      We had tickets to see a show at City Hall, a touring production of Wicked. I knew nothing about it other than it was linked with The Wizard of Oz, but I’d fallen head over heels in love with the song ‘Defying Gravity’ and was desperate to see it performed live. Justin hadn’t been as keen, but then he only ever came to the theatre because he knew I loved it. Dramatic numbers weren’t really his bag, but that night, in particular, he seemed out of sorts, tetchy almost. I’d stupidly put it down to him being tired after a long week at work, that and the fact he’d rather be watching the darts on the telly with a pint in

Скачать книгу