He heard whispering coming down the line, followed by a strange scuffling noise. Then silence for a moment, as some kind of argument continued.
‘Izzy, let go of the telephone.’ His mom sounded fainter now. ‘Sam, your sister insists on talking to you,’ she managed to say, before the excited voice came on the phone.
‘Sam, who’s this girl you were talking about?’ Izzy was breathless, from wrestling the phone away from her mother, no doubt. ‘You never told me about a new girlfriend?’
‘What girl?’ He was stalling for time.
‘That writer you talked about, the one from London. Why didn’t you invite her to the party? Was it because of Dad? You know the party would have been so much better if he wasn’t there, the miserable git.’ Izzy barely took a breath. ‘You’re coming over here to see her, right? When are you coming? Will you bring her over then? Sam, does this mean you might move back to London after all? Oh God I hope so.’
He laughed. ‘Izz, calm down, take a breath, OK? I’m not going to talk to you about my love life right now. But yes, I’m planning on coming to London soon, to check if you guys are OK more than anything.’
‘Oh, that’s fantastic, make sure you come for a long time. We’ve got a lot to catch up on.’
‘You start at university next month,’ he pointed out.
‘Then you can drive me there, can’t you? My friends would love to meet you.’
He tried to picture himself turning up at her college, surrounded by paparazzi. It wasn’t a pretty image. ‘I’ve got to come back to film the Summer Breeze movie,’ he reminded her. ‘But I promise I’ll see you before then.’ He was keeping secrets again, but this time with a purpose. He had plans to go to London, but his family would have to wait. There were other things to attend to first.
‘OK.’ He could almost hear the pout in her voice. ‘I guess that will have to do.’
He was still smiling when he said goodbye and rang off, flinging his phone on the passenger seat as he fired the engine up. Switching on the satnav he scrolled through the favourites, coming to LAX in the list. It seemed like he spent half his life in that airport, either departing or arriving, but never before had it sent a pulse of excitement through his veins as soon as he tapped on it.
It was time to go home. To his real home. And it wasn’t a city or a town, or even a house on the edge of a lake. Home was where she was, wherever that would be. London . . . Varenna . . . it didn’t matter. Because what he’d learned over the past few months was that home was a feeling. It was the thing that relaxed your muscles, that made you breathe a little easier. It was the place that you looked forward to being all through the day.
Home was Cesca Shakespeare. Even if she didn’t know it yet.
The rain had been pouring all day without letting up. Every time a customer walked into the restaurant, they left a puddle in front of the doorway, a hazard-in-waiting that Cesca dried with a mop as soon as possible. It was nearing the end of the tourist season, but even that didn’t account for the drop in business. Half the tables in Cereal were empty, looking forlorn with their clean china crockery and sparkling glasses all neatly laid out. The novelty was obviously wearing off. Cesca wondered if Simon could keep the place going for much longer.
‘Can I have the bill, please?’ a man called over to her from the corner. He was sitting opposite two teenage children. They’d barely looked away from their phones for the entire time they’d been there. A single father, Cesca had presumed, taking his kids out for the obligatory Saturday dinner. It didn’t look as though any of them were enjoying it much.
A huge flash of lightning lit up the glass front of the restaurant, and Cesca’s eyes blinked in protest. She waited for the clash of thunder to follow – the storm had to be close to be that bright – but her anticipation was in vain. Only silence followed.
Another flash. This time the door to the restaurant opened, and more flashes lit up the outside street. Cesca blinked again, her eyes attempting to adjust to the shock of the light, and refusing to focus on the doorway in front of her. It took a moment to realise the flashes were coming from cameras, not the storm.
The door slammed shut, a dark figure leaning his back on it, his chest hitching as though he were trying to catch his breath. He was dripping with rain, puddles forming at his feet, and Cesca almost turned around to grab her mop and bucket once again.
But then she worked out who it was.
For a moment she was frozen on the spot. Her mouth was ajar, her eyes wide open, but when she tried to talk no words came out. The few patrons still in the café turned around to stare at the newcomer, whispered words of excitement hi
ssing out as soon as they realised who he was. She heard his name, over and over again, like a record on repeat.
‘Sam. Sam Carlton. The one from all those films. You know, the one who broke that girl’s heart, oh, I don’t remember her name.’
If this was a movie, she would be running towards him, throwing herself into his arms and letting him kiss her, as the water from his clothes seeped into her own. She could almost picture it, damn, she could have written it, but somehow, she still couldn’t get her feet to move.
‘The bill?’ the man at the table next to her said. ‘Can you get it for us?’
‘Shut up, Dad.’ The eldest teenager, a girl, finally dragged her eyes away from her phone. ‘That’s Sam Carlton.’ A blush stole over her face, and Cesca wondered if her own cheeks were just as crimson.
She was starting to shake. Staring at this man, this glorious, soaking wet, beautiful man, standing only ten feet in front of her. It was unmistakably Sam – her Sam – the boy who could make her laugh and cry almost at the same time.
‘Cesca?’ He took a step towards her, still dripping wet from the rain. If she cared at all, she might have told him it was a health and safety hazard.
‘I think so.’
He smiled. ‘Hey.’ His voice was soft, low. Beyond him, through the frosted glass, she could see a crowd of people gathering. An audience of a kind, watching the story play out in front of them as the rain poured down. The people in the cheap seats.