Please Forgive Me

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Authors: Melissa Hill

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Domestic Life, #Contemporary Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Family Life, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Psychological, #Romance, #Sagas

BOOK: Please Forgive Me
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Please Forgive Me

 

By Melissa Hill

 

First published in Great Britain by Hodder & Stoughton, 2009.

 

Copyright
ã
Melissa Hill 2009

 

The right of Melissa Hill to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

 

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.
You must not circulate this book in any format.

 

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from, but I just wanted to tell how sorry I am.
 
You have to know that I would never do anything to hurt you, at least not intentionally, but I made a big mistake, a huge mistake this time.

I realise there’s no going back, and I’m not asking for that; I just wanted to let you
 
know how much I regret what happened, and how I wish from the bottom of my heart it never happened, or that I hadn’t caused it. But it did, and it’s all my fault, and I would do anything to get the chance to go back and undo it. But I can’t.

I know I don’t have any right to ask, but I hope you’re OK?

I’m really not sure what else to say. Just know that I never meant to hurt you, and I’m so very, very sorry.

Please forgive me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

 

Leonie Hayes glanced around furtively as she joined the line of people in front of her.
 
It was stupid but she was terrified of bumping into someone she knew from Dublin, someone who might recognise her and wonder what she was doing here. Well, she supposed it was
obvious
what she was doing here (weren’t they all doing the same thing?) but she really didn’t want to get into the hows and whys. Not that it was anyone else’s business but still. Loosening the crocodile clip she was wearing, she let her long auburn hair fall further around her face.

‘Move along … this way please…keep it moving,’ a nearby official urged, as the long stream of people slowly shuffled ahead.

What
was
she doing here? Leonie asked herself, feeling a sudden flash of hesitation as she progressed further along the queue. Was it too late now to turn around and go home, back to everything that was comfortable, normal and familiar? But just as quickly she remembered that things were different now
-
everything had changed.

The ringing of the mobile phone from inside her handbag interrupted her thoughts, and rummaging briefly through her things, Leonie took out the phone and checked the number on the display.

Grace again.

Her heart quickened. It was the third call from her best friend in as many days and while she knew she should answer it, she really couldn’t talk to anyone just now. There would be too many questions and requests for an explanation, whereas Leonie could barely made sense of her own thoughts at the moment, let alone try and explain them to someone else. So no, she couldn’t talk to Grace, not now anyway. Maybe when … when everything had settled down a bit more, she might be able to explain things to her better. Grace would be worried about her, she knew that, but wouldn’t she be even more concerned if she found out where Leonie was or what she was doing now?

Yes, much better to wait rather than run of the risk of worrying Grace even further, she decided, trying her best to ignore the shrill ring tone.

Soon the ringing stopped, and the brief silence was quickly followed by the double beep signalling voice-mail. Leonie listened to the message.

‘Lee, it’s me again,’ Grace said, and Leonie could hear the twins shrieking in the background. ‘Where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you for ages. I tried phoning the landline too, but there’s no answer from there either,’ she added, sounding disappointed. ‘I just hope everything’s OK, or more importantly that
you’re
OK. I’m sure the weekend was tough but…look, will you just call me back when you get this? I’m here all day as usual,’ she added in a wry tone. ‘Just please phone me back. Hope to talk to you soon, bye.’

Leonie snapped the phone shut. She should really have taken the call; by now it was understandable that Grace would be frantic. She hadn’t anticipated her friend ringing the apartment though, and it was interesting (but no surprise) to hear that there was no answer from there either.

Well, no point in thinking about it now, she told herself yet again. There would be plenty of time for that later. What she needed now was to stop thinking and just keep moving, keep going before she changed her mind. Although it was a bit late for that, wasn’t it?

Of course she’d talk to Grace and tell her everything, but only when she was ready. And more importantly, when she knew it was safe to do so. Still, she mused, biting her lip, it really wasn’t fair to have anyone worrying unnecessarily in the meantime.

She flipped open the phone and dialled her friend’s mailbox. The coward’s way out, but it would do in the circumstances.

‘Grace, hi, it’s me, I’m so sorry I haven’t been in touch before now, but things have been horrible…’ Despite herself, her voice broke, and she felt a huge lump in her throat. Then she swallowed hard and took a deep breath before continuing. ‘Just wanted to let you know that I’m OK and thanks for phoning. I promise I’ll tell you all as soon as I can, but if you don’t mind, I think I just need some time to myself at the moment. But please don’t worry. I’m all right and I’ll talk to you soon, OK?’

She took another deep breath before switching off the phone and putting it back in her pocket. That sounded all right, didn’t it? And it was a truth of sorts.

After a few more minutes of waiting in line, an official finally called Leonie forward and pointed her in the direction of a free booth.

With some trepidation she approached the desk and smiled weakly at the serious-looking, heavyset man sitting behind it.
 

He didn’t return the smile. ‘Your documents please?’ he asked and Leonie complied.

The man studied the details for what seemed like an age, looking from the paperwork to Leonie and back again, while almost instinctively she averted her eyes from his gaze. She wasn’t sure why exactly, it was just what you did in these situations, wasn’t it? She hated being made to feel so uncomfortable though, in the same way she felt when going through the metal sensors earlier. Why did the set-up at these places always make you feel like you were up to no good?

‘What do you do for a living, Miss Hayes?’ he asked her, his tone neutral.

‘I work for an event management company,’ she replied, the half-truth tripping off her tongue easily. The official nodded, evidently satisfied with this answer.

‘OK, now I’m going to ask you to please place your left index finger on the device here,’ he told her, indicating the fingerprinting contraption positioned on top of the desk. When Leonie complied, he asked her to repeat the same process with her right hand. ‘Thank you. Now please stand back and look up at the camera just here…’ Again Leonie did as she was bid, eager to get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible.

There was a brief delay as the man yet again checked her paperwork, and having inputted something into his computer, he proceeded to double-stamp the documentation.

‘OK, Miss Hayes,’ he said his mouth breaking into a smile as he handed Leonie back her newly stamped passport and immigration documents, ‘you’re all set. Welcome to the United States.’

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

THREE WEEKS LATER

 

‘I’ve got a confession to make.’

Leonie looked up, her heart sinking as she wondered what was coming. She supposed she should have known better than to assume it could be that simple, that
anything
could be simple these days. ‘Oh?’

The real estate agent smiled. ‘This place isn’t strictly available right now. It will be soon which is why I’m showing it to you.’

‘Oh, OK.’ ’She looked around the apartment, trying her best not to look too interested, but the truth was she’d fallen in love with the place on sight. Nothing else she’d seen over the last two weeks had even come close.

The top floor of a converted 1800’s Victorian house, the apartment was situated on Green Street, a pretty, tree-lined neighbourhood in the heart of San Francisco. The house was within walking distance of cafés, local restaurants, and a myriad little boutiques and galleries that spilled onto nearby side streets.

The apartment itself, with its oak ceiling carvings, ornate fireplace and huge bay windows was warm, cosy and simply bursting with character. From the living room window, Leonie could just about make out (if she moved to the right and stood high on her tiptoes) the Golden Gate Bridge straddling the waters of the bay, while the teeniest corner of Alcatraz Island was just visible from the left hand side. Below, the roofs of neighbouring houses descended step-like towards San Francisco Bay, where sailboats sparkled prettily beneath the sunlight.

But even without the gorgeous views, there was just something about these old houses that enchanted her. Outside, the house was chocolate box pretty; painted in white and eggshell blue, and elaborately embellished with decorative cornices and mouldings, angled bay windows, and a wooden arcade porch. Adding to the charm, the neighbouring houses were painted in various other pastel shades of pink, green and yellow, which made them look almost like a row of doll’s houses. It was a design that typified much of the architectural style in the city, and one of the reasons Leonie had so quickly fallen in love with San Francisco, and why she’d be over the moon to secure this apartment.

Granted the interior was dated and somewhat grubby but nothing that a little TLC couldn’t cure. The oak parquet floor would scrub up nicely, and she could liven up the living room with some colourful rugs, funky cushions for that drab-looking sofa and artwork for the walls. The kitchenette was small but practical, and the bedroom adjoining the living room was bright, roomy and had plenty of wardrobe space. Not that she’d need much of that, for the moment at least. But most importantly, it was a million times better than her shoebox room in the Holiday Inn, and wouldn’t it be wonderful to find a place in the city she could call home?

‘Well, I thought I’d give you a sneak preview seeing as nothing else I’ve shown you has fit the bill,’ the agent said, putting an end to Leonie’s day-dreaming. ‘It’s a great neighbourhood, very safe and as you saw on the way in, you’ve got the bonus of a private access door too.’

From what Leonie could tell, the house was divided into three separate units, all of which had their own entrance. The ground floor apartment looked to be accessed through a side-door alongside a garage at street level, whereas they’d entered ‘her’ apartment up the steps, and through one of two adjacent doors beneath the porch, before taking the stairs to the top floor.

‘You’re right, it’s absolutely perfect,’ she agreed, unable to hide her enthusiasm. But wasn’t it just her luck that it wasn’t available! ‘But you said there’s someone still living here?’

Strange, it certainly didn’t look or feel like that. Notwithstanding the dust on the furniture and the absence of any recent signs of activity, there was an air of disuse and almost … abandonment about the place that was quite striking.

‘That’s right. Officially, I shouldn’t be even showing you this,’ the agent said with a mischievous gleam in his eye, ‘because it isn’t actually on the market until the end of this month. But …’ He turned to face her. ‘Personally I think its kind of special. Green Street is a great neighbourhood, and these old Victorians don’t come along every day either. If we put it on the open market, it’ll be snapped up within the hour, so if you think you might be interested -’

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