Page 152 of The Love Letter
‘Haslam, you are a bloody shit liar, but I accept that them upstairs have done a good job and you’ve been well and truly scared off. Which is a shame, because I’ve done a little further digging myself.’
‘I wouldn’t bother if I were you, Alec. The road leads to nowhere.’
‘I don’t like to pull rank on you, sweetheart, but I’ve been in this business longer than you’ve been on the planet and I can smell a scandal from a mile off. Do you want to hear or not?’
Joanna shrugged casually. ‘Not really, no.’
‘Ah, go on, I’ll tell you anyway. I was reading through one of those autobiographies of our Sir James and something struck me as odd.’
Joanna focused on looking disinterested as Alec went on. ‘It recalls how close Sir James was to his wife, Grace. How strong their marriage was and how devastated he was when she died.’
‘Yes. So?’
‘Grace died in France apparently. I mean, if your beloved died abroad, surely you’d want to collect the body and have it buried on home soil? So that one day you could lie together for eternity? And we know Sir Jim is buried in Dorset. Alone,’ he added.
‘Maybe. Marcus certainly came home from Ireland.’ Joanna swallowed hard. ‘Though I was too ill to go to the funeral.’
‘So sorry about that, love. But there you go. So why didn’t Sir James do the same with his beloved? Could it be that she didn’t die after all?’
‘I don’t know. Can I have my sandwich? I’m starving.’
‘Sure. Cheese do?’
‘Fine.’
Alec shouted over the noisy hubbub to order the sandwich and a couple more drinks. ‘Anyway, she’d be over ninety by now, so the chances of her being either alive orcompos mentisare slim.’
‘You really think she could still be alive? That she was involved in all this too?’
‘Could be, Jo, could be.’ Alec slurped his pint.
‘Alec, this is all very interesting, but as I said, I’ve come to the end of the line.’
‘Well, your call, darling.’
‘Besides, how would you go about trying to locate someone who’s supposedly been dead for nearly sixty years?’
‘Ah now, Jo, them’s the tricks of the trade. There’s always a way to reel ’em in, if you word it right.’
‘Word what right?’
‘An advertisement placed on the obituaries page. Every old crone reads those to see if anyone they know has copped the Big D. Come on, Jo, eat your sandwich. Looks like you could do with putting on a few pounds.’
Joanna let herself into her flat that night, feeling utterly exhausted, and went to run a bath. Coming back from the clean Yorkshire air made London – and her – feel grimy. Once she had bathed and donned her dressing gown and furry slippers, she sat on the sofa in the sitting room. She wondered now if she had returned too quickly – at least in Yorkshire she had felt safe and secure, and never as alone as she felt right now.
Reaching for the pile of post that had gathered whilst she was away, she began to open it. There was a sweet letter from Zoe Harrison, welcoming her back to London and asking Joanna to ring her so they could get together for lunch. There were also a frightful number of unpaid bills, and Joanna was grateful to have her job back. As she sorted the pile into ‘important’ and ‘wastepaper’ piles, a slim white envelope slipped onto the floor. She picked it up and, seeing it was a handwritten note with just her name on it, she opened it.
Dear Jo,
Please don’t tear up this letter yet. I’ve been an utter shit, I know. When I saw how hurt and angry you were, I’ve honestly never hated myself more than I do now.
I’ve spent my whole life blaming other people for my problems, and I realise now that I’m a coward. I’m such a coward for not telling you the truth about the money. I never deserved you.
From the moment that I saw you in that restaurant, I knew I wanted you. That you were special and different. You’re an incredible woman and, with your strength and bravery, you make me feel like the pathetic creature I am.
I know you’re probably shaking your head as you read this – if you haven’t already thrown it in the bin. I’m not the most articulate or romantic person, but I’m laying my heart bare here. It’s true. Joanna Haslam, I love you. There’s nothing I can do to change the past. But I hope I can change the future.
If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I want to be a better man for you. And to show you who I can be.
