Her phone rang, a welcome distraction from her sad thoughts. It was Sophia, her voice hoarse from crying.
“Evie, can I come and stay with you? We’ve had another bust-up.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Evie’s House
Evie only had time to put the kettle on before a red-eyed Sophia appeared on her doorstep and started crying as Evie wrapped her in a hug. She bundled Sophia inside and onto the sofa in the kitchen, gave her a cup of hot sweet tea and asked what was going on.
“It’s the same old story,” said Sophia. “We just end up arguing about everything. We are going round and round in circles.” She wiped her eyes with a sodden tissue.
“You and I have had this conversation so many times, Evie. I can’t keep doing all the heavy lifting. You know that he won’t even visit London. My family still haven’t met him. It’s ridiculous.”
Her parents and brothers were so important to Sophia, and Evie remembered how she had been welcomed into their warm embrace while living in London. It was one of the few times she remembered being happy there.
“I have never understood why he can’t meet you halfway. It’s not fair. He’s being completely selfish.”
Sophia sighed. “I know, and I feel like it’s becoming too much of an effort to make this work,” she said, flatly. “It shouldn’t be this hard. I’m at the end of my rope.”
“Is it worth going to see him today?” asked Evie. “And try and talk to him?”
Sophia shook her head impatiently. “Why is it always me doing the running? All I did was ask him about Christmas, and his plans. And then it turns into a massive argument.”
She checked her phone, “He hasn’t even tried to call me. Not that I would answer him and you know what, I am not going to spend all day waiting for him to get in touch.”
She turned off her phone and shoved it under a cushion.
Sophia and Evie spent the day together. They talked about Finn and then about Amelia and discussed Freya’s upcoming birthday party. Evie showed Sophia the work in progress of her painting of Freya, and Sophia looked at it long and hard and told Evie it was beautiful but the hands weren’t quite right.
Evie looked at her friend with affection. “You’re probably the only person honest enough to tell me that and, of course, I know I haven’t cracked it when it comes to her hands. They are too big, aren’t they?”
“Yep, they look like pink bananas but you will fix it and the rest of it is gorgeous. Freya will love it.”
They talked until well past midnight and both women felt better. Sophia’s calm advice had helped Evie’s anxiousness about Amelia, and Evie had convinced Sophia that Finn would call her before she had to go back to London and they would work things out.
But the next morning, when Sophia turned her phone back on, there was nothing from him, and Evie saw the bitter disappointment in her friend’s face.
“Does he know you are getting the last flight back south?” asked Evie.
Sophia nodded. “It’s always the same one.”
“There’s still time,” said Evie, but when she dropped Sophia off at the airport, there still had been nothing from Finn, and there was no romantic gesture at the departure gate. He wasnowhere to be seen. Sophia tried not to cry as she boarded the plane and told Evie maybe it was all for the best and she’d be in touch.
Driving back home in Florence, Evie did a lot of thinking. She was furious with Finn, and Sophia was well within her rights to give up on him altogether. And yet, when they were together you could see they truly loved each other, it was much more than terrific sex, but he was going to have to change his attitude, or he would lose Sophia for ever.
Evie decided to take action and when she got home, went online to get as much information and ammunition as possible. A few days later, she called Freya to say she had invited Finn over to her place that evening and could she come over too? She had a plan and needed Freya’s help.
Freya readily agreed. She was very fond of Sophia and thought that although Finn was utterly charming, he needed a boot up the arse, just like Edwyn all those years ago when he was dithering about asking Kate to marry him.
“I can’t believe that clown Finn would let such a terrific woman slip through his fingers. He needs a right talking to and we are the very women to do it,” Freya told Evie.
Finn was feeling sorry for himself when Evie called. He’d been desperately upset that he’d quarrelled again with Sophia and ruined another of their precious weekends. When she had stormed off and decided to stay with Evie, he had stubbornly refused to get in touch, waiting for Sophia to make the first move.
He knew he should have gone to the airport with an enormous bunch of flowers and thrown himself on her mercy with a fulsome apology, but instead he went for a long walk, telling himself she should be the one to say sorry for starting an argument with him and then going off in the huff.
He heard the little plane take off and saw it head south, taking the woman he adored back to London, maybe for ever. He cursed himself for being an eejit and immediately texted her to say he was a clown and he was sorry and waited for a reply. But there had been no response from Sophia.
That was three days ago. They never went this long without keeping in touch. It looked like he had completely blown it. He didn’t know what to do and was glad to receive Evie’s call to ask him round for a drink with her and Freya.
