The First Time We Met: An utterly heart-warming and unforgettable love story

by Jo Lovett

  She should focus on some positives. Dominic would never truly break her heart. And he was lovely and familiar, and now they were putting more effort in, they were having a good time together. Who needed fireworks, actually? And in time, Emma and Rohan’s passion would probably fade. Maybe she and Dominic had been like that once, and she’d just forgotten.

  Izzy did a quick scan of the room while she listened to Veronique’s speech. She couldn’t see Emma and Rohan anywhere. Not having an official plus one to bring, she’d decided to bring plus two. One minute they’d been next to her, the next her mother had started talking and they’d snuck off. She wouldn’t mind having them here so that she could share a bit of eye rolling with them.

  Now Nat and her other half-brother, his older brother Max, were on the stage to give speeches. Shit, was Izzy going to have to go up there and speak too? She should have prepared something. She started planning some words. She wouldn’t mind doing a speech, actually. She could definitely think of some funny anecdotes off the top of her head. Probably not the sex books one, though, on balance.

  And then Max got some cards with notes on out of his pocket. Which meant that he had obviously known that he was going to give this speech. Which meant that either the boys had volunteered and her mother and Veronique had said yes without thinking of mentioning it to Izzy, or they’d asked him. Whichever, Izzy was pissed off. She was her mother’s child too. And they clearly weren’t going to ask her to do a speech.

  Also, if she was feeling uncharitable, which, yes, she was, she’d have to say that Max’s speech was crap. Wooden. Humourless. Okay, she should not have thought that. Now she felt terrible. Max was lovely. So was Nat. It was one hundred per cent not their fault that Izzy’s mother preferred her other children to Izzy. Izzy could really do with getting a smile of sympathy or something from a good friend at this point, though. She looked harder for Emma and Rohan. No, she couldn’t see them anywhere.

  When the speeches finished, after Ella, or as Izzy’s mother and Veronique described her, ‘our beautiful granddaughter’ – did they even remember their older granddaughter – had sung the entire first three verses of ‘Let It Go’ down the mic, very tunelessly but, to be fair, very cutely, everyone moved into groups and Izzy finally saw Emma and Rohan.

  They were in an alcove at the end of the room opposite the stage, in a very Get-a-Room position, Emma up against the wall, both arms round Rohan’s neck, while he leaned into her, cradling her face in his hands, full-on canoodling. Tremendous.

  Izzy grabbed another glass of champagne from yet another passing waiter – there were a lot of them, thank goodness – and downed it. Not good enough yet. Champagne was supposed to make you feel happy. She was still short on happiness and long on serious pissed-off-ness. She took another glass. Nope, still pissed off. Bloody Sam. And bloody loved-up bloody everybody bloody else. She needed more champagne.

  ‘Hi, I’m Tom.’ Tom was a nice-looking man, dressed in skinny jeans, a slim-fit blue and green floral shirt and pale-blue suede brogues. ‘Your mother’s a friend of mine.’

  ‘Nice shoes.’ Izzy smiled at him, accidentally slopping champagne onto the shoes. Oops. To give him his due, Tom kept on smiling.

  ‘Like to dance?’ he asked.

  ‘Love to.’ Better than standing by herself and he seemed nice enough. ‘I think we both need another drink first, though.’

  Tom was a very good dancer and a very good procurer of champagne.

  By the time Izzy’s mother came over to talk to them, towards the end of the evening. Izzy’s feet were sore from dancing, she was feeling sick, and she was seriously impressed by both Tom’s footwork skills and his knowledge of the words of all songs ever.

  ‘Izzy, darling.’ Her mother gave her a hug. ‘So nice to see you. Thank you for coming. And Tom.’ She hugged him too. ‘I hope you and Izzy have been having a nice time together.’ She winked. She actually bloody winked. She was bloody trying to set Izzy and Tom up for sex. Izzy could tell. Izzy decided that her mother could piss off with her winking and her sex books and her not inviting her own granddaughter or asking her own daughter to give a speech.

  ‘You should have invited Ruby,’ she stated.

  ‘Darling, we haven’t invited any children.’

  ‘Ella’s here.’

  ‘She’s our granddaughter and Nat didn’t have a babysitter.’

  ‘Ruby’s your granddaughter and I had some babysitter issues, because Devon’s a long way from London.’

  ‘Darling, Ella’s our granddaughter.’

  Izzy looked at her mother and wondered whether this was the moment where she was finally going to say ‘I’m your actual daughter and I’ve been second best in your life ever since you met Veronique and then had the boys, and sending me advice about the pill when I was sixteen and a vibrator when I was twenty-five and crotchless bloody underwear on my wedding day and sex books on the one-year anniversary of my marriage break-up is not sufficient to make you a good parent. Good parenting involves more than advice on sex. Maybe advice on sex is not involved at all in being a good parent.’

  ‘Deborah, Izzy, I’ve got us more champagne,’ Tom interrupted as Izzy opened her mouth.

  ‘Thank you so much.’ Deborah beamed at him. ‘Now, you two have a great night. I’ve booked you into a very nice room upstairs, Izzy.’ And then she sashayed off and Tom put his hands on Izzy’s waist.

  She knocked back the champagne he’d just given her and smiled at him. Why not?

  It was very peculiar when he started kissing her, because he wasn’t Sam, and there were no fireworks, and he wasn’t Dominic, who she knew so well. He was just a nice man in sharp middle-aged clothes and stained shoes fastening his lips to hers and going for a bit of over-sloppy tongue action.

  Izzy was woken by a muffled ringing phone sound coming from quite close to her head. It was a very annoying sound. It stopped, result. And then it started again. Stopped. Started.

  She finally found it under one of the three pillows that her head wasn’t on, on the other side of the bed, ringing again. Emma.

  ‘Hi,’ Izzy said.

  ‘Morning. You in bed with someone?’

  ‘Er, no. Obviously not.’

  ‘What about the man in the floral shirt?’

  ‘What? No.’ Izzy looked round the room. Big. Classic furnishing. Large and very comfortable bed. Hard to remember how she’d got here but all the signs were telling her that no-one else had been here with her. She had a flash of memory. ‘Tom,’ she said. ‘We were dancing.’

  ‘And practically having sex on the dance floor. Have you decided not to get back with Dominic then?’

  Oh yes. There’d been a lot of kissing and some groping. Eeurgh, in the cold light of day. There’d also been some actual cat calls from her mother when they’d left. And then Izzy had binned Tom in the lift. Thank the Lord for that. Good decision. Izzy’s head felt terrible and she was going to have to get showered and dressed very fast and straight back to London to pick Ruby up from Dominic at two, and she was incredibly glad that she wasn’t sharing a room with a man she didn’t know who kissed like a blubber-lipped fish. And that she hadn’t slept with someone else while Dominic – who definitely seemed to be hoping that they might get back together – looked after Ruby.

  She really hoped she hadn’t said anything rude to her mother last night. There was no point and it would be awful if she’d ruined her party in any way. Shit. Had she sent her an email? She’d definitely done some emailing when she’d got into bed. She could remember feeling very angry and very determined and full of decision and jabbing her phone. She’d definitely done some decisive emailing. Shit shit shit.

  ‘Got to go. Speak later,’ she told Emma.

  She clicked into her emails and went straight to the Sent folder.

  On the upside, she hadn’t sent an email to her mother last night.

  On the downside, she’d sent one to Sam and one to Dominic.

  Hi Sam,

  Screw
you.

  Izzy

  P.S. Just nearly shagged someone called Tom (blue shoes) and I’m going back to Dominic.

  Hi Dominic,

  Dinner next weekend would be lovely.

  Izzy

  Bloody hell. Izzy was a mother, a professional and knocking on the door of forty, and yet give her a bottle or two of champagne and not enough food and this was how she behaved. This was almost up there in the mortification stakes with proposing to someone on their wedding day.

  She went to her inbox.

  Hi Iz,

  Great. I’d already booked a restaurant.

  Dom

  Sigh.

  Hi Izzy,

  Congratulations on both Tom and Dominic.

  Sam

  Yep. Fair enough. Izzy nodded on her pillow; ow, that hurt her head. Not much anyone could add to that. She’d been outrageously rude. It wasn’t Sam’s fault that he didn’t love her.

  Bloody, bloody hell.

  Obviously, she should apologise to Sam. Except, to say what? I’m so besotted with you that I was gutted you wouldn’t declare undying love for me, a declaration which I would have rejected anyway, because I don’t want more from you than being friends. Except that’s clearly a lie, because clearly I love you. So I got drunk and sent a ‘screw you’ email. Obviously not.

  She needed to think about it before she replied.

  Dominic liked his moonlit strolls nowadays, it seemed. They were taking an after-dinner walk through autumnal trees in Kensington Gardens, a week on from the anniversary party. At least there was no danger here of Izzy ruining her shoes. Lily was babysitting again because Izzy did not want to discuss Dominic with any of her friends. Emma clearly didn’t think she should get back together with him, and her silent disapproval was pissing Izzy off.

  They were walking hand-in-hand. Dominic tugged on Izzy’s hand slightly and pulled her closer to him.

  ‘Why don’t we sit down on that bench?’ He was already walking over to it.

  They sat down together, and he put one arm round her shoulders and his other hand gently on her neck, in her hair. He drew her towards him and kissed her.

  It was nice. Pleasant. Not earth-shattering, but very familiar and definitely better than kissing Tom.

  It seemed kisses were like buses in Izzy’s life. None for a very long time and then in the space of only a few weeks, Sam, Tom and Dominic. Sublime to ridiculous to alright.

  Dominic stopped kissing her and smiled at her. Was it awful that Izzy was pleased that the kiss had stopped? She really wanted to get to bed on time tonight. It was never great going out on a Sunday evening; it always ruined Monday morning.

  ‘So I’ve been offered a promotion if I move back to Milan…’

  Izzy pulled away from him. What was he thinking, implying that he was moving back permanently to London and that he wanted to get back together, kissing her and then telling her he was buggering off again to Italy?

  ‘…I’ve got a few weeks to decide, but I’m not going to take it.’ His smile grew. Oh. Okay. She relaxed a little back towards him. ‘I’ve loved being back here with Ruby. With you. I want to make us work, if that’s what you want. Maybe I could even move back in?’

  Wow. Was workaholic Dominic Castle really suggesting he give up a promotion? His eyes looked very twinkly in the moonlight. He was such a nice man. Really, his only fault was a bit of dishwasher laziness. He was kind, he was generous, he was decent. And he was putting her and Ruby first. Could you ask for more in a husband?

  She needed a bit more time to think, though. It was too big a decision for this evening. She was too tired. It had to be the right decision, for all their sakes. She put her arm round his waist and hugged him.

  ‘That’s… wow. I’ve loved having you here too. But I think we should think about it and not rush into anything,’ she said. ‘Because of Ruby. Maybe dinner again later in the week?’

  ‘Can’t wait.’

  Izzy was back in her car after school drop-off literally ten minutes earlier than usual the next day. Ruby had been an angel the whole morning. Izzy was sure it was because of how much she’d enjoyed yesterday with both Izzy and Dominic. Another point for Dominic.

  She got her phone out. If she was really getting back with Dominic, she couldn’t, even if they hadn’t just had an argument, carry on emailing Sam, even as friends. It would be like having an emotional affair while married, from her side, anyway. It would in fact be having an emotional affair while married. But Barney shouldn’t suffer. If the speech therapy was still doing him good, they should continue, and Izzy was a professional.

  Hi Sam,

  I’d like to apologise for my drunken rudeness last weekend.

  On another note, could you confirm that you’re happy for me to make arrangements directly with Barney for his speech therapy sessions over email, just copying you in? I need written permission from you for child protection purposes.

  Best wishes,

  Izzy

  He replied with the confirmation during Izzy’s lunch hour. So that was fine. Great.

  Twenty-Nine

  Sam

  Damn, he missed Izzy. It was two weeks since they’d had any communication at all. Sam wanted to email her right now, with a photo of the mac and cheese dinner that he and the twins had just cooked.

  He also wanted to yell at her about Dominic and Tom, whoever Tom was. He wanted her to apologise properly for the email she’d sent. And he wanted to apologise for having upset her. He couldn’t say any of that, though, because that would involve a conversation about love.

  He pointed his phone at the kitchen table and took a photo anyway. His mother would be pleased to see their culinary efforts. Obviously, writing to his mother was not like writing to Izzy. Writing to Izzy was actually like sending and receiving love letters, but not overt ones: perfect, subtle ones. Shit, he really wanted to write to her now.

  But, he couldn’t. Given how he felt about her, it wasn’t appropriate if she was going back to Dominic.

  Liv had posted some Insta-perfect photos of their dinner and already had a deluge of likes and emoji-filled comments.

  ‘Can we just eat it?’ Barney said.

  ‘Yeah, I’m with you.’ Sam sat down at the table and started to serve.

  ‘Daddy, you can actually cook now. This is so good.’ Liv was chewing, talking and smiling at the same time.

  Things had been so much better between them recently.

  Sam suddenly decided. It was time. He’d been searching for this moment.

  ‘Liv. Barney. I need to apologise for the accident.’

  ‘Why?’ Liv was always straight to the point.

  ‘It was my fault. I was driving too fast and I was tired.’

  ‘N-n-n-o.’ Barney was shaking his head, frowning. It took some time for him to get his words out. ‘It wasn’t your fault. It was the other car. He was a really bad driver.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Liv took more salad. ‘You were really cool. Like, no-one could have avoided crashing.’

  ‘No. If I’d been concentrating better, driving more slowly, I think I could maybe have avoided the other car,’ Sam said.

  Liv looked up and straight at him. She shook her head. ‘No. I think you’re wrong. The other guy was going too fast, not you. And you turned the wheel really quickly and we didn’t hit them as hard as it looked like we were going to.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Barney was looking at him too. ‘And you braked the right amount. Like, hard, but not enough to skid.’

  ‘And you were awesome afterward,’ Liv said. ‘Cool swearing in the hospital.’ She grinned at him.

  Barney was smiling at him too.

  They really didn’t blame him.

  Oh, crap. Tears were coming. Sam put his fork down and his hand over his eyes.

  And then Liv came round the table and hugged him. He felt the burden lift.

  If only he could tell Izzy.

  * * *

  After the kids had finished their homework and he
’d read up on some meeting notes, Sam called them both into the snug and suggested playing a board game. It was the evening for it.

  ‘I don’t like board games,’ Barney said.

  ‘And we never play them,’ Liv said.

  ‘Well, it’s time we started.’ Sam had very clear memories of his mother insisting throughout his childhood that they play Sunday evening board games, when all he’d wanted was to be outside with a ball when he was younger and hang out with his friends when he was older, but, actually, the board games had been good. ‘If I can work from home one day a week, the two of you can indulge me in playing Clue right now.’

  ‘Lame,’ Liv said. She was smiling, though.

  ‘But we’re doing it.’

  ‘Fine, but prepare to lose big, because girls are way better than boys at everything.’ Liv suddenly grinned properly and launched herself at him and gave him an enormous hug. Sam hugged her back with one arm and held out his other arm to Barney. Barney held back a little and then put his arms round both of them.

  Sam held onto them for as long as the kids would let him. He was choking up yet again. This moment alone was worth the difficult conversations he’d had about his new working arrangements.

  Izzy would be proud of him if she knew.

  * * *

  ‘Dad,’ screeched Liv.

  ‘Mmph.’ He had a momentary suffocating sensation. Oh, okay. She’d whacked him around the face with a cushion.

  ‘You keep going to sleep,’ she said. Well, of course he did. He’d been working even later and sleeping even less since he’d been making more time for the twins. Absolutely the right thing to do, but he was exhausted.

  Liv was jumping up and down, crowing, ‘Two games in a row. Losers.’ Sam grinned. It was great to see her showing genuine enthusiasm.