on her nerves to accompany Warwick on his thrill-seeking activities rather than stay behind and worry. Something had gone wrong with the length of the rope and his head had almost hit the rocks below. Amber had been absolutely horrified, both by his near miss and the realisation of her love.
Up till then, she’d convinced herself—perhaps as a form of self-protection—that she wouldn’t be heartbroken when her time with Warwick was up. After all, broken hearts were for people who truly loved each other. She’d told herself repeatedly that going back to the real world would be difficult, but she would survive.
Suddenly, with Warwick’s near-death experience, Amber saw what her life would be like without him. The wool was violently pulled from her eyes and she saw with painful clarity that she’d been fooling herself, big time.
She did love him. Not just truly, but madly and very very deeply.
But she certainly didn’t say as much to Warwick, who’d made it clear right from the start that love was no more on his agenda than marriage and children. Quietly, however, like any typical female, Amber had begun to harbour the hope that she might be the exception to that rule as well; that one day he’d discover that he’d fallen madly in love with her too and wanted to keep her for ever. But that hope was rapidly fading.
‘Something strange has happened regarding Kate’s will,’ her mother announced, cutting into her thoughts.
‘Oh? What? She left everything to Dad, didn’t she?’
Who else? Aunt Kate had been a spinster and Amber’s father’s only sibling.
‘She did in her old will. But it seemed she made a new will, witnessed by those two friends of hers. Max and Tara Richmond. You know who I mean, don’t you?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Amber had first met the Richmonds on Christmas day two years ago, when Christmas dinner had been held at Aunt Kate’s place.
Max Richmond was the owner of the Royale chain of international hotels, including the Regency Royale in Sydney, but had semi-retired to the Central Coast after his marriage. He and his wife were good friends of her Aunt Kate. They were a very glamorous-looking couple, with two amazingly well-behaved children: a darling little boy named Stevie and a very pretty blonde baby named Jasmine, who just sat in her stroller and smiled at everyone.
Amber recalled thinking on more than one occasion that they seemed the perfect family.
‘You may or may not have noticed,’ her mother said, ‘but the Richmonds weren’t at Kate’s funeral last week.’
‘No, I didn’t notice.’ She’d been too upset to notice anything much.
‘They were overseas at the time of Kate’s death and didn’t learn about it till they returned home yesterday. Anyway, to cut a long story short, they immediately got in touch with us to let us know that they were in possession of a new will, made just after Easter this year. In it, Kate has left her superannuation policy to your father, but her home and all its contents go to you.’
‘What? But that’s not right. I don’t deserve it!’
‘Whether you deserve it or not is not the point,’ her mother said archly. ‘Kate’s bed and breakfast is now legally yours.’
Amber blinked with shock. Her aunt’s B & B was situated a stone’s throw from Wamberal Beach, a much-sought-after location during the warmer months of the year. Any seaside town within a couple of hours’ drive from Sydney was never lacking for guests, especially during the school holidays. Aunt Kate had made a good living for herself over the years, though she’d wound the business down a lot lately, because of her age. She didn’t even have a website, relying on past customers and word of mouth for guests, plus the sign that stood at the entrance to her driveway. Even if it wasn’t a going concern as a B & B any more, the house would still be worth close to a million dollars.
‘How does Dad feel about this?’ Amber asked worriedly. ‘Is he upset?’
‘He was at first. Not because he wanted the place himself. As you know, we’ve done very well with our fencing business over the last few years and we’re not wanting for money. But we both thought Tom and Tim should have been included in Kate’s will. Yet when your father spoke to them, they said they didn’t mind at all. They actually seemed very pleased for you. They pointed out that they weren’t close to Kate the way you were. They didn’t visit her or love her the way you did. Of course, both my boys have very good jobs,’ her mother said proudly. ‘They don’t need a helping hand. Unlike you.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ Amber snapped, hurt by the pride that her mother always voiced in Tom and Tim. Doreen Roberts was one of those women who doted on her sons and largely ignored her only daughter. Amber’s father was just the same. It was no wonder her sole ambition in life had been to leave home and make a family of her own, one where the love was shared around equally.
‘We’re all worried about you, Amber, living with that heartless man. Kate was especially worried. I have a suspicion she knew she didn’t have long to live, and changed her will in your favour to throw you a lifeline, so to speak. At least you’ll have a home and a job when that man’s finished with you. Which, if he runs true to form, will be any day now.’
‘You don’t know that,’ Amber threw at her mother before she could think better of it.
‘That’s where you’re wrong, dear. I know quite a lot about Warwick Kincaid and none of it’s very complimentary. He might be successful in his business dealings, but his personal life is another matter. It’s a case of like father, like son.’
‘Meaning?’
‘His father was a notorious womaniser who hung himself after losing millions at a casino, according to the inquest.’
Amber was truly shocked. Warwick had told her that his father had died unexpectedly at fifty-one, but she’d just assumed it was from a heart attack or a stroke. He’d said nothing about suicide.
‘His wife divorced him soon after their only child was born,’ her mother rattled on, ‘the price of her freedom being that she had to give up custody of her son. At the time, James Kincaid was one of the richest bankers in England with lots of power and influence. It’s all there to read on the Internet if you ever want to look it up.’
‘I don’t have to, Mum. I know all about Warwick’s family background.’ Which was an exaggeration of the highest order. Warwick was a man who lived in the here and now. He rarely talked about his past life. Neither did he ask her about hers. He’d told her a few brief details just before Christmas last year when she’d enquired about his family. She did know about the divorce and that his mother—from whom Warwick remained estranged—was an actress of sorts. She knew his mother had never remarried, so he didn’t have any half-brothers or -sisters. She knew nothing of his father’s womanising, or his suicide.
‘Then you must know that your boyfriend’s a womaniser as well,’ her mother swept on waspishly. ‘With a mistress left behind in every country he’s lived in. It’s a different country each year: France, Spain, Italy, Turkey, Egypt, India, China, Vietnam … And now Australia. Next year he’ll probably hop over to New Zealand, then on to the Americas. He’s an adventurer, Amber. And a gambler, just like his father. Maybe not at cards or roulette, but with his life. He does dangerous things.’
‘Yes, I do know that, Mum,’ Amber said ruefully. Bungee-jumping and heli-skiing weren’t
