The Passengers(63)
Sofia unwound a brightly coloured Hermes scarf from her neck, one that she’d purchased because it reminded her of the colours of a sunset she’d once seen on a film set in Morocco. She placed her handbag over the dashboard and wedged one part of the scarf under it, allowing the other half to dangle over the camera lens. Suddenly, she realised she would never see a sunset or film set again.
‘I wish people were like you,’ she whispered to Oscar, scratching behind his ear. He cocked his head to one side for her fingers to go deeper. ‘I wish I could have found someone who was as devoted to me as you are. Then perhaps everything might be different. Perhaps I’d have made better choices. Perhaps you and I wouldn’t be sitting where we are now.’
Sofia poured herself another brandy and drank half immediately, washing it down with two more painkillers. She had been teetotal until she met Patrick; she blamed him for turning her to drink.
Amongst the bad choices Sofia had made, not having a family of her own had been a rare wise one. She’d had little interest in starting a family until her sister Peggy fell pregnant with Bobby, followed two years later by Paige. She’d seen other actresses in her peer group pass on potentially career-defining roles to start families. Most of them later failed to reignite their star power once they were ready to return to work. Sofia had unashamedly soaked up their lost parts like a sponge. And they had earned her accolades, awards and made her the highest paid British actress of the 1970s.
However, her priorities shifted soon after being introduced to charismatic businessman Patrick Swanson. The way he carried himself reminded her of the Hollywood movie stars she had swooned over as a girl. He possessed Cary Grant’s elegance and urbanity, James Stewart’s humour and Clark Gable’s masculinity, all rolled into one handsome package.
At thirty-eight and with four divorces to her name, finding a fifth husband was the last thing on Sofia’s mind. But she couldn’t say no to the twinkle in those deep-blue eyes of Patrick’s when he’d invited her for dinner. After a whirlwind romance, she’d thrown caution to the wind and, two months after meeting, she’d answered ‘yes’ to his marriage proposal. Offstage, she was the most content she had ever been.
Her failed marriage tally had made Sofia the butt of many a joke from tabloid newspapers to stand-up comedians. On the surface, she’d laughed it off, but deep down, she detested being a laughing stock. It made her more determined than she had ever been to make this relationship work, no matter what. She’d taken on board criticisms levelled at her by past partners and made a conscious effort to not emasculate Patrick. So theirs would be an equal partnership. She added his name to the deeds of her properties in Richmond and Buckinghamshire, her bank accounts became joint along with her many investments.
The emotional security he offered gave Sofia the confidence to consider motherhood. It hadn’t been a role she’d ever felt the urge to play, least of all with any of her ex-husbands. But Patrick was different. Each time Paige and Robbie arrived for a sleepover, he lavished them with attention like they were his own. And as she watched them play together for hours at a time, her guilt arose for denying him the opportunity to father children of his own. Eventually, when Patrick visited her at work on an American TV mini-series, she broached the subject as they strolled along Santa Monica’s beach and towards their hotel.
‘Where’s this coming from?’ he asked, somewhat taken aback. ‘You made it clear when we first started to date that kids were out of the equation. What’s changed?’
Sofia stared deep into his eyes and felt warmth radiating from them. She had never been more in love than she was in that moment. ‘It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind,’ she replied. ‘You know that.’
‘No, really. Tell me.’
‘I’m thirty-eight years old and neither of us are getting any younger. If I leave it much longer then nature will take the decision out of my hands. You, me, us … I realise now this is what I’ve been waiting for my whole adult life. What do you say?’
Patrick stopped walking and wrapped his strong arms around his wife’s waist, brought her to his lips and kissed her. ‘I say when can we start trying?’
She curled her fingers through two of his belt loops and led him through the hotel lobby and straight up to their suite.
Four months later, a chance reflection in an orangery window destroyed everything Sofia had begun to dream of. It was so fleeting that it lasted no more than a second, but she would never forget it.
They had spent much of the weekend with her niece and nephew in the swimming pool of Sofia’s Richmond home.
‘Patrick, if you dry the kids off, I’ll ask Cook to make a start on lunch.’
‘Okay,’ he replied.
Her husband climbed out of their pool and reached for a towel. Robbie and Paige were on brightly coloured inflatable lilos, racing from end to end using their hands as paddles. ‘Hurry up, guys,’ Patrick said as Paige made her way towards him. He lifted her out and placed her on a sunlounger.
As Sofia headed to the kitchen, she remembered that she hadn’t taken their drinks order. She turned, then caught a reflection of Patrick on his knees, towelling Paige. As one hand dried her back, the other was held firm upon an area it had no business being. Sofia froze and watched as her husband swiftly slid it away when he realised she had returned.