Sapphire in the Sand

by Patricia Robins

Genres: Romance

Synopsis

Emma is 16 years old and in love with Andrew, but he's engaged to Julie, Emma's beautiful elder sister. When their two families go to France on holiday together Emma is perturbed by Julie's casual attitude to the engagement and her interest in Yves Courtelle, another guest at the hotel. Emotions become hopelessly entangled, and for the four young people, the holiday threatens to end in tragedy as they struggle with feelings which are stronger than they are.

Release date: April 9, 2015

Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton

Print pages: 320

Sample

Emma had never been happier. It wasn’t just ordinary happiness. It was breathless delight; a feeling that life was taking on a new dimension, all gold and radiant with joy.

She looked across the crowded room eagerly and saw Andrew talking to her father. She wondered what they were saying to one another; hoped Father wouldn’t keep Andrew too long. He’d promised to have another dance with her.

Her heart melted. Being in love was wonderful, beautiful, exciting. Impossible to say when she had fallen in love with Andrew but she knew the exact moment she’d realised it was true — half an hour ago when Andrew had kissed her softly and told her she looked fabulous and this was the best evening of his life.

Now it seemed as if she must always have loved him. There was never a time she had not known him for their houses adjoined and the two families were close friends as well as neighbours, the children constantly in and out of both gardens as if they were just one big one.

Andrew was the only boy in his household although he had two sisters. Marie was married now and Andrew came next — twenty-two, with Lindy, his younger sister, the same age as Emma — sixteen.

Emma had no older brothers. Julie was the eldest in her family and she was twenty-one tonight. This was her party. Emma adored Julia who was gay, extroverted, fun to be with and very attractive, too. She tried to model herself on her sister, but somehow it never really worked out. She remained Julie’s opposite — small, dark, shy and rather plain. At least, she had always thought she was plain until tonight. But if Andrew thought she looked fab, then she could think so, too.

Emma felt she must get away from the crowd of guests — be alone for a little while to savour this new strange feeling of being in love.

She slipped out of the room and went to sit on the stairs where it was cooler and the light only dim. Her cheeks were burning as if she’d caught the sun.

‘Pst! Emma!’

It was Paul, her ten-year-old brother with Penny, aged eight. Too young to be allowed to stay up for Julie’s party, they’d nevertheless been secretly enjoying it from the top landing. Paul, in red and blue striped pyjamas and Penny in her blue nylon nightie, looked very young and Emma wanted to hug them both. She wanted them to be as happy as she was. She said:

‘Shall I sneak you up something to eat?’

‘Golly! Thanks!’

Emma slipped downstairs to the dining room where the remains of the buffet supper lay on the table. She found cold chicken and cheese straws, trifle and potato salad. Giggling, she took two heaped plates upstairs to the waiting children, hoping it wouldn’t make them sick.

‘What’s everyone doing?’ Penny asked between mouthfuls. ‘What presents did Julie get?’

Emma answered all their questions. Only as she listed Julie’s birthday gifts did she realise that Andrew had come empty-handed. But she forgot a moment later as she heard her father’s voice, making some kind of announcement.

‘What’s happening?’ Penny asked impatiently. Penny was really a smaller edition of Julie — bright, intelligent, alert and always eager to be in on everything. She had the same fair hair and startlingly blue eyes. Paul was more like her, Emma, small for his age, dark haired and with shy, dark eyes.

‘If you shut up, Penny, I might be able to hear,’ she said. But the voice was muffled and Emma couldn’t make out the words.

‘Probably Daddy’s proposing a toast to Julie,’ she said. As if to endorse her guess, everyone began clapping. Voices were raised in a cheer and there was a lot of laughter — glasses clinking.

‘I’d better go back!’ Emma said. ‘And you two had better go to bed; it must be midnight. I’ll come and tell you what it’s all about in a minute or two.’

She waited a moment longer while the children wandered along the passage towards their bedroom. Downstairs someone had put on a record.

‘I’ll miss my dance with Andrew!’ she thought, suddenly wanting to be back with everyone, part of the fun and excitement. Above all she wanted to be near Andrew.

‘Andrew’s a lucky chap …’

‘They’ll make a fine couple …’

Two of the guests had come out of the drawing room into the hall. Emma stood looking down at them, her forehead creased in thought. What did they mean? Why was Andrew lucky?

‘Oh, Emma — you didn’t miss the announcement, did you?’

‘I was having a chat with Paul and Penny.’

‘My dear child — what a moment to choose. But perhaps you knew already?’

‘Knew? Knew what?’ The words came out with difficulty, choking in her throat as she steadied herself with a hand on the banisters.

‘About Andrew and Julie getting engaged. Isn’t it marvellous! Of course, it’s just what your parents hoped for and Andrew’s parents, too. So romantic, I always think, when childhood sweethearts decide to get married.’

Somehow Emma managed to excuse herself with a smile, to get away from them. Never, never again, she thought passionately, would she like Mr. and Mrs. Albright. For the rest of her life she would remember them as the couple who broke her heart.

Julie nearly collided with her in the drawing room doorway. She was wearing a turquoise-blue shift dress which accentuated the blue eyes, outlined a sooty black — the colour of the lashes. Her eyes looked enormous and sparkled with excitement.

‘So there you are, Emma. Aren’t you going to congratulate me, darling! Look — look, Emma, at my ring!’

She held out her hand. On the third finger shone a blue sapphire engagement ring.

‘Andrew’s present to me!’ she laughed and impulsively hugged Emma to her.

‘I — I didn’t know — I never realised …’ Emma broke off, unable to trust her voice.

Julie laughed again.

‘Of course you didn’t. I didn’t know, either — not until tonight. Isn’t it strange, Emma, everyone always expected Andrew and me to fall in love and we never did. Then when the families had just about given up hoping, suddenly it happened — just like that! Andrew says he’s always been in love with me but he kept it a deep dark secret because he knew I didn’t feel the same way.’

‘But now you do?’

‘Of course I do, Emma. I suppose it is all a bit mad — the way it happened — just suddenly in the middle of a dance. Andrew said: ‘I’m in love with you, Julie. Will you marry me?’ Well, I thought he was joking until I looked at him and then suddenly something went ping inside me and my heart sort of stopped beating and I knew I was in love … with him. Isn’t it marvellous?’

‘Fab!’ Emma said. ‘I — I think your ring is lovely.’

Julie seemed not to notice the strained words. She looked at the ring and sighed:

‘Just think, Emma, I’m really and truly engaged. Oh, it’s so exciting. I’m going up to tell the children — I’m sure they’re awake. See you later, Emma.’

Emma felt the floor swaying — made a supreme effort and let go of the banisters. She wanted to run away, to lock herself in her bedroom and cry and cry — cry all the pain out of her broken heart. But she couldn’t — not now or later. No one must ever guess that she’d been silly enough, juvenile enough, to believe Andrew loved her just because he’d kissed her on the cheek and told her she looked pretty.

‘I can’t bear it!’ she thought, but she knew she must; knew she had to go and find Andrew, smile at him, congratulate him.

‘Emma!’ He swept her up into his arms and hugged her. ‘Are you pleased? I do hope so. You’ll be my sister-in-law soon. Isn’t it wonderful? You and Lindy always said you wished you were sisters and now you will be. Oh, I’m so happy, Emma. I never believed Julie would say yes.’

‘But you bought the ring …’

Andrew laughed, his brown eyes crinkling in a way which had always attracted her.

‘Oh, a kind of desperate belief that if I had the ring Julie would know I was serious and take me seriously. She never has done that before — as you well know, Emma.’

He tucked her arm in his and led her into the dining room where absent-mindedly, he began to eat. Watching him, Emma wondered how it was possible for a human heart to break and yet not show.

‘Aren’t you hungry, Emma? I’m ravenous. Just think, Emma, Julie loves me. I still can’t quite believe it, can you? I’m really such a dull ordinary chap and she — she’s so pretty, so attractive. Yet she loves me — she said so. I can’t believe my good luck.’

Suddenly Emma felt his doubt communicate itself to her. Did Julie love Andrew? Really love him? Snatches of conversation flooded her mind now — sisterly discussions they’d had in the privacy of their bedroom.

‘Andrew kissed me this afternoon behind the beech tree …’ Julie’s infectious laugh. ‘I quite liked it but somehow it wasn’t in the least romantic. Trouble is, I know Andrew too well — far too well. He’ll always seem like a brother to me, Emma. He was awfully cross with me because I laughed. I suppose I was awful. Boys hate it if you don’t take them seriously.’

How long ago had Julie said those words — a week — a month at most. What had changed her suddenly — or changed her attitude to Andrew? If Julie had been falling in love with him, she’d have told Emma. Julie was immensely extroverted and she discussed all her boy friends with Emma in the greatest detail. Julie had a sharp critical mind and Emma had sometimes wondered if her sister would ever find a boy without something about him she had to criticise. Now, it seemed, she had suddenly decided Andrew was everything she wanted. It didn’t make sense — didn’t ring true.

A crowd of guests including Andrew’s parents came into the dining room looking for him. They gathered round expressing renewed delight at his engagement, turning to Emma to include her in their pleasure so that she was forced to smile; to say how wonderful it was. It was a full five minutes before she could escape. She ran upstairs to the large sunny bedroom she shared with Julie and only then did she give way to tears.

But she could not give herself up to the luxury of a good cry. Mother was far too observant and would want to know the cause of swollen red-rimmed eyes. So, too, would Julie. Anxiously, Emma sprang off the bed and dashed ice-cold water from the basin over her flushed face and pricking eyes.

‘I look a sight!’ she thought. The shelf above the basin was littered with Julie’s make-up. Julie was frantically untidy and couldn’t get ready for a party without leaving the room looking as if a hurricane had been through it. Carefully and methodically, Emma began to put things away. Once she stopped to put on a light dusting of powder over her shining nose and an even lighter touch of lipstick. Mother wasn’t keen on her wearing a lot of makeup — not until she was seventeen which would be in a few months time.

‘Oh,’ thought Emma tremulously. ‘Sixteen is an awful age to be — neither young nor grown up!’ Surely, she told herself, one’s life couldn’t really be over at sixteen. Yet what hope was there for her now? She’d lost the only boy she could ever love — and lost him to her adored sister so that she could not even have the luxury of hoping something would go wrong with the engagement so that Andrew turned to her in the end.

Julie could be as exasperating as any older sister but she was far more lovable than hateable! She lent Emma her nylons, let her practise with her make-up; spent hours washing and setting Emma’s dark hair, trying to find a becoming style for it that was also fashionable and acceptable to Mother. Many was the time Julie had taken the blame for something because she knew Emma dreaded Mother’s serious disapproving moods whereas Julie took little notice of them, saying Mother would soon get over it. Julie had helped enormously with O levels last year and now while she, Emma, was studying for her A’s, Julie was just as helpful. Emma wouldn’t have blamed her if having swotted through her own exams and finished for ever with school, she had refused to think in terms of logarithms and Latin translations again.

No, Emma told herself as she folded Julie’s blue jeans over a hanger and put them in the wardrobe, she would never do anything to make Julie unhappy. If only she could believe that she really did love Andrew. Andrew was like a brother to them all. He was just part of the family.

Emma sighed. It wasn’t, of course, true. If she herself had had secret dreams, written in her locked five-year diary, about her adoration for him, so might Julie have done the same. Maybe Julie had been in love with him for ages and just hadn’t told Emma about it for fear of family teasing.

She went to the white painted desk in the corner of the room and took out her diary, unlocking it with the tiny key she wore on a silver chain round her neck. Leafing back a few pages she read:

The day after tomorrow is Julie’s party. Can’t wait. Have a new red dress — fab. Hope Andrew likes it. It makes me look at least eighteen. Hope Andrew dances with me. Saw him yesterday and he’s coming to tennis this afternoon. …

Of course, she thought as she put the diary away, unable to bear the sight of those lost hopes, she hadn’t known until tonight that she was actually in love with Andrew. That knowledge had come as a certainty when he kissed her. What a little fool she had been imagining it was a real kiss. Not that she’d anything to compare it with but she’d read in books what real kissing was and Andrew’s peck on the cheek couldn’t possibly have been mistaken for a lover’s kiss. All the same, her heart had turned over and at that moment, she had known she loved him. Was this what had happened to Julie, too? Had Andrew suddenly kissed her and Julie realised that she’d really loved him all along?

Emma went across to the window and drew back the curtains. The garden was flooded with moonlight — a. . .