The First Crush Is the Deepest Read online

  Sam strolled out through the customs area and peered around the cluster of people waiting impatiently in the arrivals hall at Heathrow Airport, looking for the familiar face of his father. And there he was, one hand raised in a friendly wave.

  Sam had never been so grateful to see a friendly face after a long exhausting flight.

  A quick back slap and a greeting and they were on their way to the car park and a small family hatchback that Sam had never seen before.

  ‘What’s this, Dad? Don’t tell me that you have finally got around to buying yourself a little runabout to take you to the supermarket? About time.’

  ‘Don’t be so cheeky. No, I borrowed it from your Auntie Irene.’

  ‘Auntie Irene? I thought my lovely godmother was living in France these days?’

  ‘She moved back to London about six months ago, so she’s renting out her house in the Alps as a holiday let. And it’s a great place. I know I enjoyed it. The views are unbelievable.’

  ‘Ah, so that was why you chose the Alps. And here I was thinking it was all about driving around those hairpin bends and mountain roads. You don’t get a lot of that around London. Or are you getting too long in the tooth for that kind of driving?’

  His dad snorted a reply as he loaded Sam’s bag into the boot and closed down the lid. ‘Hey. Watch it on the “too old” bit. And, as a matter of fact, we did squeeze in a driving tour around the lakes, then went over to Switzerland for a few days. We had a great time.’

  Sam’s eyebrows headed north as he fitted his seatbelt in the passenger front seat. ‘We? I thought you went on your own.’

  His father started to say something, then paused. ‘I’ll tell you about that when we get home,’ he replied and reached forward to turn the key in the ignition.

  Sam rested his hand lightly on his father’s wrist and looked into his startled face.

  ‘Dad, I have just had a very long flight after an exhausting few days with Amber DuBois. And I have come to one very startling conclusion. If you need to say something, then just say it. Please. So. What is it? What do you have to tell me?’

  ‘Okay, son,’ his dad replied with just enough lift in his chin for Sam to inhale slowly so that he was prepared for whatever was coming.

  ‘It’s your Aunt Irene. Over these past few months we have been seeing a lot of each other one way or another. She needed someone to help her settle into the town house I had just renovated and it’s just two streets away from the garage, so it made sense for me to show her how things have changed around our part of London in the past twenty years.’

  He took a breath and licked his lips before going on.

  ‘Do you remember when Irene used to come around to the house to see your mum and take you out when you were little?’

  ‘Auntie Irene. Yes, of course. She was mum’s best friend. I always knew that we weren’t related but she liked being called Auntie Irene and I didn’t have any other aunties or uncles. I missed her when she went to France. And I still don’t see where this is going.’

  ‘Then I’ll make it clear. Irene invited me to stay at her home in France to have a bit of a holiday and, well, when we were away, she finally confessed to me that she had been in love with me for years. Before I married your mum we all used to go out in a big group of friends together. But she knew that I only had eyes for your mum, so she didn’t tell me how she felt. But in the end it was too hard to watch our marriage fall apart so she moved away.’

  He shot Sam a glance. ‘She hated leaving you. But she couldn’t stay.’

  Sam blew out a long whistle. ‘Is that why she never married? I always wondered if she had a secret boyfriend in France somewhere.’

  ‘She had a couple of relationships but never met anyone else.’

  ‘So Auntie Irene has been burning a candle for you for thirty years. Did you know? Or even suspect?’

  His dad nodded quickly. ‘About a year after I divorced your mum, Irene turned up at the garage one day out of the blue. She cooked us both that lovely French meal. Do you remember that? After you had gone to bed, she asked me if I wanted her to stay and take your mother’s place. And I said no.’

  ‘You turned her down,’ Sam said in a low voice.

  ‘Wrong time. I was still hurting and you needed me to be there for you. So I sent her back to France.’

  He banged the heel of his hand against his forehead.

  ‘I was a fool. I lost the woman who loved me and who had always cared about me as a friend. I have spent the last years alone when I could have shared them with Irene and had some happiness. But these past few weeks have shown me that it’s not too late. She is a wonderful woman, Sam, and I have decided to take a chance on love for the second time in my life. I hope that is okay with you.’

  ‘Okay? You don’t need to ask my permission. I think that it’s fantastic. Good luck to you. Good luck to both of you.’

  ‘Thanks, son. Right. Let’s get this car started. Because I want to hear exactly what you have done this time to mess up your chance of happiness with Amber. And I won’t take no for an answer. Oh, and you had better get used to seeing Irene around—she’s moving in. So. Start talking. And there’s your first edition of the paper if you want to catch up with the latest. I think I saw something about Amber in it.’

  ‘What?’ Sam picked up the paper and turned the pages until he found it. It was the photo he had taken of Amber on the beach.

  His blood ran cold and the more he read the more chilled he became.

  It might be his photograph but he had not written one word of this article.

  Frank had given the fluff piece to someone else to write. And that was so wrong that he didn’t even know where to start.

  He snatched up the paper and started reading, desperate to find out how bad it was.

  He couldn’t believe it. Frank had taken the quotes and twisted them around to portray Amber as a shallow, selfish woman who was creating a vanity project for her own glory—just the opposite of what Sam had intended. His idea had been twisted around to focus on Amber and how foolish she was to risk her health and try to teach with a broken wrist.

  ‘Son, are you okay? What’s happened?’

  ‘Frank Evans has sold me out,’ Sam replied in a low voice, the paper on his lap. ‘This is not about Amber, this is about rumours and lies and half-truths for a headline. And it makes me feel sick to my stomach.’

  He looked up at his father and took a breath. ‘Dad, I need your help. But before that I need to say something and say it now. I was a brat when Mum left. And I am sorry for making your life such a misery. I truly am. Can you forgive me for that?’

  His dad shook his head and smiled. ‘I’ve waited a long time for you to grow up. Looks like it’s finally happened. Past history. What do you need?’

  Sam exhaled long and slow and stared out of the car window. ‘A family house with a garden where Amber can play with our kids.’

  The silence in the car was so thick that it was hard to breathe, but it was his dad who finally broke it by asking, ‘Do you love Amber that much?’

  ‘She is the only woman I have ever loved and ever will love. It has taken me ten years to realise that. I can’t lose her again now.’

  The instant the words came out of his mouth Sam realised what he had just said and chuckled. It was the truth and he had been a fool to pretend otherwise.

  ‘Then I have just the house for you. Welcome home, son. Welcome home.’

  SIXTEEN

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected];

  [email protected]

  Subject: On my way back to London

  The June monsoon rains came! At last. And how. We are flooded out and the girls have either been sent home for a few weeks or moved to the old school further inland. Any building work has stopped and the lads have taken off.

  I am just waiting for my connecting flight back to London and should be with you for breakfast tomorrow. Cannot wait t
o catch up. See ya soon. Amber

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Subject: On my way back to London

  Brilliant—but do not read the newspaper at the airport. Seriously. Don’t. We need to talk first. K

  Amber strolled into Saskia’s kitchen conservatory room, yawning loudly, her good hand stretched tall above her head. There was no sign of Kate or Saskia but, instead, stretched out on a lounger with his feet up and a steaming cup in his hand was Sam Richards.

  He looked as casual, cool and collected as if he had just come from a business meeting. Come to think of it, he was wearing a suit and a shirt with a tie.

  Amber glanced back towards the hallway. ‘How did you get in? Saskia is going to have a fit if she sees you here, drinking her coffee.’

  ‘I climbed over the garden gate,’ Sam replied with a quick nod. ‘They might want to think about making it a little taller. I can still clamber over, even at my age. Although I probably have dirt on my trousers.’

  ‘Which you are now putting onto her favourite lounger. Sheesh. What cheek.’

  Amber peered at his jacket, then physically recoiled. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you have the worst taste in suits? Our Kate needs to take you in hand.’

  He smiled up and waved his coffee mug in her direction.

  His gaze slid up from Amber’s unpainted toenails to the tip of her bed-head and gave a low growl of appreciation at the back of his throat to indicate how much he liked what he saw.

  Amber instantly tugged the front edges of her thin silk pyjama jacket closer together as her neck flared with embarrassment.

  ‘A lovely sunny good morning to you too. And thank you for a warm welcome. And, as for the lovely Miss Lovat? Kate may have called me to let me know that you have come back to escape the monsoon rain, but Kate is not the woman I want to take me in hand,’ he whispered, and then spoilt the moment by wagging his eyebrows up and down. His meaning only too obvious.

  Amber’s heart soared but her head took over.

  He seemed determined to make leaving him even more difficult than it would be already.

  ‘Are you always this much trouble in the mornings?’ she asked.

  ‘Want to find out?’ he replied in a low husky voice.

  Amber dropped her head back and rolled her shoulders.

  ‘What? No. You do not do this to me on my first morning back from India. Especially when I am not awake yet.’

  She blinked several times. ‘Wait a minute. Did you just say that Kate called you? That is not possible. Because you are officially off our nice man list. You snake. Your magazine did a real hatchet job on me. You have no right to interfere with my head like this. In fact, I shouldn’t even be talking to you.’

  ‘Of course you should. I am the new media and fund-raising manager for the Elwood School.’

  ‘Oh, no, you are not. We don’t need a media... Wait a minute, okay, maybe the school does need a fund-raising manager but the last person I would choose would be an investigative journalist with a chip on his shoulder the size of a pine tree who delights in stitching me up. Sorry.’ She peered at him and sniffed. ‘Nice tie. Best of luck with your job interview. Are you going to your newspaper today?’

  ‘Already been. I had a little chat with the editor in chief and we agreed that I should leave the magazine to explore creative opportunities outside of GlobalStar Media.’

  Her eyes shot open and she slumped down on the edge of the sofa. ‘Oh, no, Sam. You’ve been sacked.’

  ‘Actually, I resigned. I didn’t like the way they changed the meaning of your article without asking me first. Let’s just say that we had an honest and open discussion.’

  ‘You stomped out.’

  Sam touched two fingers to his forehead. ‘I stomped out.’

  ‘Oh...but what are you going to do? Your dad is so proud of your new job—this is what you’ve been working for.’

  ‘My dad is back home and when I left this morning my godmother was making him breakfast and giving him a cuddle. My dad is in heaven and loving every minute of it—and my lovely Auntie Irene is the wealthiest woman I know. The last thing he needs is an out of work layabout of a son cluttering up his love life.’

  ‘Oh, I am pleased; I like him so much. He deserves some happiness.’

  Sam raised both hands and gave a flourish from his lounging position.

  ‘At last we have something we both agree on. And in case you were wondering, he has always liked you too. You should be grateful, you know. There are plenty of other job opportunities for a man of my experience in this town. I could even work with my dad in his new property development business. But no, I came here to offer you my services before anyone else snapped me up.’

  She flashed him a freezer stare but it was obvious from his smug smile that Sam had no intention of doing anything other than what he wanted or letting her get a word in sideways.

  ‘Your ploy to drive me away will not work. Not listening. We are officially working on this together. Full-time job. Sorted. You see, I have been thinking about our last discussion—’ he nodded, his brows tight together ‘—and it seems to me to point one way.’

  ‘Ah. Thinking.’ Amber smirked and pretended to waft away some horrible smoke from in front of her face.

  ‘Funny girl. But not always a clever one. In fact, after several hours of deep consideration, I have come to a serious conclusion.’

  Sam swung his legs off the sofa and pointed to Amber. ‘Amber DuBois, I have decided to appoint myself the job and save you the time and effort in advertising and then going through a series of tedious interviews before deciding that I am the one and only candidate.’

  He flung one hand towards her, palm upwards. ‘I know. It is not a job for the faint of heart, and it would mean giving up my dream of joining the astronaut programme, but I am willing to take on the task. I am the man to do it. Starting today.’ He beamed a wide-mouthed grin. ‘What do you think of that?’

  ‘What do I think?’ Amber replied and started pacing the floor, her eyes wide. ‘I think you need to cut down on the dose of whatever you are taking because it is making you quite delusional. I have never heard such arrogance in my life—and I’m used to working with prima donnas in major orchestras.’

  ‘It’s okay, you can thank me later.’ Sam shrugged.

  ‘Thank you? Oh, I don’t think so. Now, listen to me when I explain, Are you listening? Good. First, I do not need help finding a project manager. Full stop. I am quite capable of taking care of myself and when my wrist heals I shall be back on fighting form. And second, you never had any intention of joining the astronaut programme. You only sent off for the forms from NASA so that you could impress your science teacher with your knowledge of hydrogen and hydrazine.’

  ‘You remembered—’ Sam grinned ‘—how sweet.’

  ‘Of course I remembered. I think you only did it because Heath was thinking of being a pilot for all of two days and the girls in my school thought that was amazing. Astronaut, indeed. As if anyone would be impressed by that.’

  ‘Did it impress you?’

  Amber paused just long enough for Sam to sit back smirking. ‘I thought so. And you’re missing the point. You need someone to take care of the business side of the project because you are going to be busy with Parvita and the other girls in the school.’

  ‘We already have cooks and housekeepers and an office receptionist, thank you. I’m not sure how many, but plenty.’

  ‘Ah, I had better add that to the job description.’ He tugged a smartphone out of his pocket and began keying in as he spoke. ‘Sort out staffing. Got it.’

  ‘Job description? What job description?’ Amber asked, blinking in confusion.

  ‘The one I came up with during my thinking session—you know, the one you should be writing if you were not so very confident that you can do everything yourself.’

  ‘What makes you so sure that I can’t do everything myself? I
have managed very well so far, thank you.’

  ‘Have you? Have you really, Amber?’ He pointed to her wrist. ‘Look at you. Your hand is hurting and you’re hardly sleeping. You are worrying like mad about the girls in Kerala, even though you talk to them every day, and now you are intent on going over there and making things worse by barging in with the best intentions when your architect is quite capable of sorting things out himself.’

  ‘What?’ Amber called out and raised her hand into the air in a rush, blinking and shaking her head in disbelief. ‘He has problems and is asking for answers based on out of focus photographs. I feel so accountable. I need to go there and see for myself and take responsibility for the project. I have to make sure the money isn’t wasted on work that has to be repeated and...oh.’

  She only wobbled for a fraction of a second before Sam took her hand and half tugged, half helped her across to the dining table.

  ‘Sit. Head between your knees. Deep breaths. Then breakfast. Here. Finish my coffee.’

  ‘Well, this is embarrassing.’ She sniffed as she lowered her head and tried to stop feeling dizzy.

  ‘Not for me. It’s actually rather satisfying.’

  Sam slid onto the fine oak floor and sat cross-legged so that his face was more or less in line with hers.

  ‘Now. About this job interview. I may have just proved my point that you need someone to help talk to the architects and works manager and all of the suppliers and the like while you do what you do best. Teach. Play your piano and fill those girls’ heads with the sounds of wonderful music that they will never forget. Because that is what happens when I hear you play. You transport me to a better place. A place where I want to stay and never leave.’

  ‘I do?’

  ‘Every time. You always did. Probably always will. Those girls are going to have a wonderful teacher. The best. And I want to help you to make that happen. If you will let me.’

  He turned his head and flashed her a full strength beaming smile. ‘Will you let me, Amber? Will you let me work with you and travel with you and be part of your life?’