‘He’s just setting up,’ Kevin replied. ‘I’ll give you a shout when he’s ready. Go on. Go talk to your dad for five minutes.’
Amber watched Kevin walk away, reluctant to go over to her dad while Jim was still around.
‘So, it’s all official then?’ Ronnie asked, sidling up beside her, a pint in one hand, the other stuffed deep in the pocket of his black suit trousers.
‘Why is everybody suddenly making me feel like I’m twelve years old? I’m thirty-frigging-seven, and Ryan isn’t my first boyfriend.’
‘Touchy,’ Ronnie smirked, taking a sip of lager.
Amber nudged him, unable to stop herself from smiling. ‘Fuck off, Ronnie.’
‘Nice. Does your new boyfriend know what comes out of that mouth?’
‘He’s more concerned with what goes in it,’ she winked, walking away from him, finally plucking up the courage to go over to her dad.
‘Oh, that’s ladylike, Amber. That’s very ladylike,’ Ronnie shouted after her. Amber just gave him a dismissive wave over her shoulder as she walked away, trying not to let the sick feeling in her stomach take over as she approached her dad, who was still talking to Jim Allen.
‘Amber,’ Freddie Sullivan said, giving his daughter an almost stern look. Was he really going to start lecturing her on boyfriends? At her age? Really? ‘Jim tells me you two have already caught up with each other?’
She looked over at the handsome American. He might be forty-eight years old now but he hadn’t lost any of those good looks that had made him the pin-up player of his day. If anything, he’d only got better looking. ‘Yeah. We have. Briefly.’
‘And I’ve told her she’s looking beautiful tonight,’ Jim smiled, a smile loaded with more meaning than Amber cared to think about. ‘Your new boyfriend really is one very lucky man.’
Amber swallowed hard, trying desperately to keep the smile on her face, although she wasn’t altogether sure it had travelled to her eyes.
‘Don’t you go wearing him out now,’ Jim winked. ‘We’ve got a big match this weekend. I’d hate our star player to be – tired.’ He turned away from her and smiled at her father. ‘I’ll catch you later, Freddie. Good to see you again, after all this time.’
‘You too, Jim.’
Amber watched him walk away, swallowing hard again before she looked at her dad, sighing the second she saw his expression. ‘Jesus, Dad, come on. Don’t start, alright?’
‘I’m not going to lie and say I’m happy about this, Amber.’
‘I don’t need your approval.’
‘Maybe not, but he’s eleven years younger than you…’
‘And what’s that got to do with anything?
‘Ryan Fisher is trouble, kiddo. And you know that as well as I do. He’s trouble, and that concerns me when I suddenly find out that my daughter is involved with him.’
‘Y’know, contrary to belief, I’m all grown-up now. I think I can handle Ryan Fisher.’
‘I hope so. I really hope so. Because I don’t want to have to be the one to pick up the pieces when he fucks up.’
‘Dad…’
‘You might not be my little girl anymore, Amber, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying about you. So just be careful, okay?’
Amber sighed again, looking up at the ceiling for a few seconds as she heard Kevin’s voice calling her over, grateful for the well-timed distraction. ‘I’ve got work to do, Dad. I’ll catch you later.’
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’
Amber swung round as she heard that American accent behind her. She’d thought nobody had noticed her sneak off for a sly cigarette, donated by a News North East colleague – the kind of night she’d had so far had caused her to revive her old smoking habit – but she’d been wrong. Some people had quite obviously been watching her more closely than others.
‘I’m busy, Jim.’
He grabbed her arm again, almost dragging her round the corner to a quiet area behind the stadium, pushing her back against the wall. ‘Ryan fucking Fisher?’
She stared into his eyes. Maybe facing him head-on was the only option she had left now. Avoiding him obviously wasn’t working. ‘And that’s got how much to do with you, exactly?’
‘I’m his fucking manager, honey. So what he’s doing and who he’s doing it with is very much my business.’
She couldn’t help laughing. Was he serious? ‘Bullshit, Jim!’ She pushed him away and he staggered back slightly, quickly composing himself, straightening his jacket collar, his eyes meeting hers once again. But she was standing her ground. ‘Fucking bullshit!’
He laughed, too, a deep, almost sinister laugh, moving closer to her again, reaching out to stroke her cheek with his fingertips. ‘Your dad’s none-too-pleased about your new – boyfriend, I gather.’
She made no attempt to remove his hand. She made no attempt to move at all, her eyes still staring into his. Eyes she hadn’t stared into for almost two decades now. For good reason.
‘But then, I’m sure daddy wouldn’t be too pleased if he knew what me and his little girl had got up to. His baby. You were so young, Amber…’
‘I was too young, Jim.’
‘I never once heard you say no, honey. Not once.’
‘I’d just turned sixteen,’ Amber whispered, her stomach turning over and over as he moved ever closer, his thumb now running over her slightly open mouth, and Amber wished with all her heart that she wasn’t feeling the things she was feeling right now.
‘And you were beautiful. You were so beautiful. And you’re even more beautiful now…’
‘Why did you come back here, Jim? You promised me, you said you would never come back here once your playing days were over.’
‘Promises are made to be broken, Amber. And you can’t expect me to turn down the opportunity of a lifetime now, can you? Expecting me to turn down this job just because you don’t want me around anymore, that’s pretty selfish, don’t you think?’
She closed her eyes as his fingers continued to stroke her skin, moving down over her neck, her shoulders, trailing slowly along her collarbone. ‘Please, don’t do this to me, Jim. Don’t do this. I can’t go there again. What you did to me…’
‘I was in love with you, Amber. I was in love with you for so long…’
She shook her head, trying desperately not to cry now. She’d tried so hard for so many years to forget her teenage affair with this handsome American who’d swept her off her feet and made her feel like a princess. She’d tried to forget the first time he’d made love to her, just days after her sixteenth birthday. He’d been this twenty-seven-year-old, incredibly charming, drop-dead gorgeous footballer who’d made her feel like the most special person in the world. But he’d also been the man who’d told her they had to keep their relationship a secret because nobody would understand, and she’d never questioned that because, back then, she would have done anything for him. Anything.
For almost two years her life had been a whirlwind of daydreams and fantasies as she’d studied