Authors: Michelle Betham
He kissed her forehead, stroking her fringe away from her eyes. ‘You’ve been crying.’
‘I got tired of trying to be Superwoman. Sue me.’
He smiled at her, reaching out to gently stroke her cheek. ‘Sometimes it’s good to just let go of those emotions. You should try it more often.’
She stood on tiptoe and kissed him quickly on the mouth before letting him go, throwing herself down into one of the chairs that surrounded the small glass coffee table which Ronnie and his fellow pundits – her new work colleagues – would soon be sitting around to discuss the match, both on and off-air. Part of her wished she was joining them. If she was working she wouldn’t have time to think about everything that was going on.
‘So, tomorrow…’
‘What about it?’ Amber asked, crossing her legs and looking straight at Ronnie.
He returned her stare through slightly narrowed eyes. ‘They’re coming back up, aren’t they?’
‘What are?’
‘Those barriers. I can almost hear the crashing of steel as they fall right back into place.’
She said nothing, just looked down at her wedding ring, twisting it round her finger.
‘Have you told him? About…’ Ronnie stopped talking, not quite sure how to put it.
‘Told him what? That I might be barren?’
‘Jesus, Amber, come on…’
She threw her head back, closing her eyes for a second. ‘Well, that’s what it comes down to, doesn’t it?’ She looked at Ronnie again. He was staring back at her with a somewhat despondent expression on his face. ‘If I can’t have kids, then that’s exactly what I am.’ She felt hot tears start to threaten again and she quickly rummaged round in her pocket for a tissue, dabbing at her eyes before anything had a chance to fall.
‘Are you sure you’re okay to be here?’ Ronnie asked, his voice softer now. ‘I mean, today’s been one hell of a mind-fuck, Amber. Maybe you just need some time to…’
‘To what? To sit and dwell on everything? To over think it all? Yeah, because that’s what I really need, isn’t it?’
Ronnie said nothing. Those barriers really were well and truly back up now and there was a part of him that couldn’t blame her for resurrecting them. Not today, anyway. This situation between her and Jim, it wasn’t anything new. His lies, the way he’d treated her in the past, the way he’d broken her heart so many times Ronnie could never understand why she kept running back to him, that was the reason why she’d always closed herself off to relationships. Especially relationships involving footballers. She’d erected those barriers around herself because of what Jim had done to her. Because she hadn’t wanted to be hurt again. But he
had
hurt her again, and now those barriers were back up, and there was every chance that, after tomorrow, she may well leave them there for quite some time yet. Ronnie could only hope that he was wrong – about the barriers, and about what was going to happen tomorrow.
‘I’m better off keeping busy,’ Amber sighed, hauling herself up out of the chair, pushing both hands through her hair. ‘Better off facing up to things and getting on with it. So, I guess I’d better go meet my stepson.’
Ronnie indicated with his head for her to come over to him, which she did, stepping into his arms and letting him hug her again. ‘Take it easy, okay? And if you need me you know where I am.’
She smiled, gently placing the palm of her hand against his cheek, looking into his dark eyes. Honest eyes. Loyal eyes. Eyes that had never hurt her, ever. She loved those eyes. ‘I’ll see you later, Ronnie.’
Ronnie watched her walk out the door, exhaling loudly as she pulled it shut behind her. ‘Yeah,’ he whispered, still staring at the door. ‘Later.’
‘Looks like everyone thinks this whole keeping me a secret ploy was just that – a ploy, to gain maximum publicity. And it’s working!’ Brandon beamed, receiving an encouraging slap on the back from Max.
‘It sure is, kiddo. It’s working like a dream. You, this bright young player from across the pond with the successful manager for a father and the beautiful TV presenter step-mum – it’s publicity you couldn’t buy! Not for any amount of money.’
Jim watched his son as he engaged in conversation with his agent. Looking at him he was surprised nobody had guessed the connection earlier because Brandon’s resemblance to him was quite unmistakeable. He had the same mouth, the same eyes, and Jim knew he possessed that same talent for this game that he’d once had. But the one big regret he couldn’t shake was that he should have gone about things very differently. He should have handled this situation a lot less selfishly, for Amber’s sake. And for Brandon’s.
‘You should be very proud of this one, Jim,’ Max said, his voice shaking Jim back to reality. ‘He’s going to be one hell of a player, I can feel it.’
Jim managed a small smile, although inside he still felt a little uneasy. Amber had yet to meet Brandon, and he had no idea how that eventual meeting, when it happened, would pan out. She was vulnerable, to say the least, right now, and even though the official line was that Amber had always known about Brandon, it was also common knowledge that she had yet to meet him in the flesh. So it stood to reason that reporters and photographers would be lurking somewhere, just waiting for that money shot of the three of them together.
‘I
am
proud of him, Max. I’m very proud of him.’
‘Good. So you should be.’ Max gave Brandon another friendly slap on the shoulder. ‘Right then, kiddo, I’ll see you after the match, okay? You have a good game now. Show them what you’re made of.’
Brandon watched Max leave the dressing room before turning his attention back to his dad. ‘Are you? Proud of me, I mean.’
‘Of course I am,’ Jim replied, surprised that he should even begin to think otherwise. ‘Just because I haven’t been there constantly it doesn’t mean to say that I haven’t followed your career or kept up with what you’ve been doing, it’s just that…’
‘Hey, I understand, Dad.’ Brandon smiled, reaching out to gently touch his father’s arm. ‘Really, I do.’
Jim smiled, too, a small wave of relief flooding over him. But that relief wouldn’t be complete until Amber had met his son. Maybe then, with that hurdle cleared, they could concentrate on creating a family of their own. And he could only hope they’d be lucky enough to be given that chance.
‘Jesus, Ryan, what are
you
doing here?’ Amber gasped, turning a corner to find him standing there, finishing a call on his mobile phone.
‘Nice to see you, too,’ Ryan muttered, sliding his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. ‘I’m here with Max. I’ve come to watch the game.’ He looked straight at her. ‘Is that a crime?’
‘Okay. What side of the bed did
you
get out of this morning? Sounds like you’ve been taking lessons from me on how to give attitude.’
‘Guess I learnt from the best.’ He grinned, and Amber couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face, the atmosphere changing in an instant.
‘Yeah, you did, and don’t you forget that.’
‘So, how
is
the ice-queen today, then?’ he asked, sticking his hands in his pockets as he leaned back against the wall, one foot up against it.
‘She’s fine, thank you.’
He looked at her again, and she frowned slightly.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just wondering why, all of a sudden, Jim Allen’s chosen now to unveil his secret son to the world. Oh, and to his wife.’
Amber shifted from foot to foot, desperately hoping her expression didn’t convey what she was feeling inside.
‘When did he tell you?’ Ryan went on, asking a question he already knew the answer to. But he just wanted to see how honest she could be with him.
‘Ryan…’
‘When did he tell you, Amber? When you were a teenager, lying in his bed, giving him exactly what he wanted whenever he wanted it? When he came back to the North East all those years later? Did he tell you then? Huh?’
‘This has got nothing to do with you,’ Amber said, starting to walk away, not in the mood to get into anything this personal with him.
Ryan reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. ‘I care about you, Amber. That didn’t stop. Those feelings, they haven’t gone away.’
She looked at him, right into those deep, dark blue eyes of his. ‘He told me about Brandon, okay?
When
he chose to tell me has got nothing to do with anyone…’
‘I care about you, Amber.’
‘So you said. Can you let go of me now, please?’
Ryan loosened his grip on her elbow, shoving his hand back in his pocket. ‘And this is the first chance you’ve had to meet him, is it? Seems a bit strange, to be honest.’
‘Look, Ryan, Brandon has been living in New York, okay? He’s been living in New York, playing his football in New York…’
‘And you didn’t think going over there to meet him, in private, would have been a better idea than doing it now? In the middle of a Premiership football ground on the day of his first match for one of the biggest clubs in the league?’
She didn’t reply. What could she say? Everything he was pointing out was true. People probably
were
going to find it hard to believe if she’d known about Brandon before, that meeting him here, amidst all this publicity and media frenzy, was a great idea. It was a terrible idea, but what else could she do? It was the only option she had left. Thanks to Jim.
‘It’s complicated.’ Her voice was quiet, tired of trying to protect her husband yet again. He
had
lied to her, of course he had. But she didn’t really want to give Ryan the pleasure of knowing he was right. Even if he was.
‘Isn’t it always, Amber.’ It wasn’t a question.
‘I’ve got to go. Jim and Brandon are waiting.’
Ryan looked at her through slightly narrowed eyes. He knew she wasn’t telling him the whole truth, but maybe pushing it wasn’t the best idea. Not here, anyway. ‘And you’re okay with that, are you? You don’t mind that your first meeting with your stepson is going to be in front of the waiting media? You know they’re queuing up to get that first shot of you together, don’t you?’
Amber looked briefly down at the ground, sticking her own hands in her pockets to stop them from indulging in some nervous fiddling with something. Anything.
Ryan saved her from answering his question by asking her another one, his voice slightly less confrontational this time. ‘Are you okay? Only, you look a bit…’
‘Ryan, listen, we might share an agent now but that’s about as far as our relationship goes, all right? And sharing an agent doesn’t give you the right to… to…’
‘To, what? To ask how you are? Is that forbidden now?’ He moved closer, his breath warm on her cheek as he spoke. ‘We used to fuck, Amber. Me and you. Do you remember? We used to do things to each other that, if I remember rightly, you couldn’t get enough of. We were close, we were really close, so I think that gives me some small right to ask how you are, don’t you?’
She stared at him as she backed off, shaking her head as she walked away. Shit! Why had she reacted like that? With Ryan, of all people.
‘Hey, there she is! Great timing.’ Jim smiled as he came out of the Wearside Spartans home team dressing room. ‘I was just about to come looking for you.’
‘I was talking to Ronnie,’ Amber said, trying desperately to regain the composure she’d lost just now. That encounter with Ryan hadn’t exactly been a welcome one.
Jim frowned as he looked at her. ‘You all right?’
‘Can people just stop asking me that? I’m getting really tired of it.’
Jim raised his eyebrows, smiling slightly. Sometimes the old Amber found it hard to lie down and retreat. ‘Okay. No more asking how you are, I…’ He knew better than to utter the word ‘promise’ after the day she’d had, so he stopped himself from saying it. It was safer that way.
‘Is he in there?’ she asked, indicating the home team dressing room door.
Jim nodded. ‘He’s dying to meet you. He’s heard a lot about you.’
She said nothing for a second, silently composing herself to meet this man her husband had kept from her for all this time. This man he’d kept secret from the world, come to think of it, not just her. Another small stab of, she wasn’t sure she’d call it anger, but it was certainly something close to that, washed over her but she suppressed it, readying herself to do what she knew she had to do. For whose sake, though, she couldn’t quite work out. ‘Come on, then,’ she said, shaking out her hair and running her fingers through it. ‘There’s not long until kick-off and he’s gonna need to be out there soon, warming up with the rest of them.’
‘Listen to a manager in the making.’ Jim grinned, holding out his hand for her to take, which she ignored. Instead she pushed straight past him, walking into the dressing room.
‘Right then, I hope anyone left in here is decent, although it wouldn’t be anything I haven’t seen before.’ She turned her smile up full, quickly hugging Wearside Spartans’ manager Billy Bishop – another old friend of her father’s from his playing days – before she finally looked over at the young man who was now officially her stepson. And that first sight of him there, in the flesh, almost took her breath away, because she just hadn’t been ready to face what she was seeing in front of her. The pictures she’d seen of him, the images on TV, none of them had done him justice. How had nobody noticed the quite obvious resemblance between Brandon Palmer and his father? It was like looking at Jim twenty years ago and Amber could literally feel her heart start to hammer hard against her ribs as she tried to turn away, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t break the stare. In front of her stood a man with the same mouth, the same beautiful eyes, the same short dark hair her husband had once had before the flecks of grey had taken over. And nobody had noticed that?
‘Hi, Amber.’
The same soft American accent. He even said her name the same way his father did.
‘I…’
Jesus, come on, Amber! String a bloody sentence together!
She let her eyes meet his, the warm smile he was giving her making her feel slightly more relaxed now. ‘I… it’s… it’s good to finally meet you, Brandon.’ She held out her hand but he bypassed that and pulled her into his arms, enveloping her in a hug that sent a million memories rushing through her head like some kind of super-fast-forwarding replay. Memories of his father holding her all those years ago, looking just like Brandon looked now – young and handsome and full of attitude. Her all-American beautiful boy.