Please Forgive Me

by Melissa Hill

She bit her lip, trying to decide what to do. The woman was still getting post here, yet the rental agency had no forwarding address for her so what was she supposed to do with it?

  Turning the piece of paper over once more, she studied it properly. It was a very short letter – only a few scrawled lines, barely a note really – from a person called Nathan.

  Leonie scanned the text, looking for an address or something that might indicate where it had come from, when a particular sentence caught her eye.

  Just wondering if you ever got those other letters I sent you? You never replied (which I guess is understandable) but I hope they went a way towards explaining some things.

  Other letters? Leonie cast her mind back to that box of envelopes hidden away in the back of wardrobe. Was he by any chance referring to those? She peered at the handwriting, trying to make a comparison. Difficult to tell, but it certainly looked very similar to the elegant, cursive script she’d seen before. Intrigued, she headed in to the bedroom to get the box.

  Sitting down on the bed, she unwrapped the cellophane and lifted out a single envelope for comparison. Yes, the handwriting on this was definitely the same as the one that arrived today and she realised, flicking through the others, it also appeared on the other ten or so envelopes in this box – the ones he was referring to in today’s letter. Yet, all these remained unopened so clearly Helena Abbott hadn’t read them, despite the sender’s …what was his name again … Nathan’s hopes that she had.

  Not only that, but she’d left them behind when she moved. So what was going on here?

  Just then Leonie’s stomach rumbled, reminding her that it was late, she hadn’t yet eaten and more importantly, none of this really had anything to do with her. But still, she couldn’t resist reading through the short note again. He sounded quite nice, this Nathan guy. And clearly he was anxious to hear from Helena Abbott and to find out if his letters had explained …whatever needed explaining.

  Leonie felt bad. She supposed she should let him know that Helena had moved and that his letters hadn’t been received. But then, there was no bloody return address on the envelopes was there?

  So what was she supposed to do now? she wondered going back outside to the kitchen to make dinner. Chances were she was going to keep getting letters for Helena Abbott at this address, which was a bit of a pain. And seeing as there was no fear of your man getting the reply he sought, she certainly didn’t want to run the risk of him maybe one day turning up at her door and demanding to speak to Helena. Who knew what had gone on between them? No, she thought her mind racing, as she flung a ready-meal into the microwave, she’d better nip this in the bud and soon.

  So maybe after dinner, she should open one of the other letters and just take a teeny peek at it to see if there was a return address. Then if she found something, Leonie could try and make contact with the guy and explain what had happened. OK, so it probably wasn’t the most straightforward way of doing things, but as there were so many unknowns, she really didn’t have much of a choice, did she?

  My darling Helena,

  It’s been some time since my last letter and while I guess I didn’t really expect a reply, I hope it helped you understand why I did what I did. I’m sure you must hate me for it, but if it’s any consolation I hate myself even more.

  I was selfish, stupid and blinkered … all those things you accused me of, and although at the time I didn’t want to hear it, I know now that you were absolutely right.

  Is it too late to say I’m sorry?

  Please believe when I tell you that I love you more than anything else in this world. No matter what happens, and despite what you might think of me still, I just hope you realise that.

  Please forgive me,

  Nathan.

  Setting the letter down alongside her on the sofa, Leonie stared into space, her thoughts going a mile a minute. After dinner, she’d taken the box into the living room and carefully opened the first letter on the pile.

  And once she’d read the first couple of lines, she couldn’t bring herself to stop. OK so she really shouldn’t have read it all the way through, particularly when she was only supposed to be looking for a return address, but she just couldn’t help herself. Anyway, it was such a short letter that she’d had it read before she knew it, and it wasn’t as if it revealed all that much really.

  But this all seemed pretty ominous now, didn’t it? Who was this guy? Clearly he was Helena Abbott’s other half – or had been – and was trying to get back into her good books after something he’d done.

  Please forgive me.

  Leonie couldn’t help but be intrigued. Had the couple split up, same as her and Adam? If so, then it seemed like Nathan was the one at fault and whatever he’d done, clearly he was very sorry for it. Why else would he be looking for forgiveness? And it looked like he wasn’t aware that Helena had since moved out either, given that he was still sending stuff to this address.

  Anyway whatever he had done, Helena couldn’t have forgiven him, could she? she pondered. Not if she hadn’t read any of the letters in this box. And chances were this was why there were so many letters, and possibly why they were unopened in the first place! Leonie’s mind was racing now. Helena hadn’t opened any of the guy’s letters because whatever he’d done must have been bad enough for her to ignore him, and leave them all behind when she moved.

  Now her curiosity soared, not least because this situation had a few parallels with her own. The guy was obviously determined to get Helena back but clearly had no idea that she hadn’t even read his previous letters, let alone forgiven him. Picking up the letter again, she reread Nathan’s words.

  I’m sure you must hate me for what I did, but if it’s any consolation I hate myself even more.

  What on earth had he done? Far from coming across as a faithless love-rat type, Nathan actually sounded quite sweet, and was obviously still very much in love with Helena. But the poor guy had no idea that his letters would continue to be unanswered and he was wasting his time.

  Well, however intriguing this particular letter might be, Leonie sighed, it was certainly no help in finding its sender or recipient, given that there was no return address.

  Wasn’t it odd not to include this? Although maybe not so much for a personal letter, she realised then. After all, chances were if Helena was the love of Nathan’s life then she’d know where to reach him anyway, wouldn’t she?

  Yes that had to be it; unless…. she mused, her mind galloping again as she came up with yet another possibility; perhaps he hadn’t included a return address because he didn’t want Helena to know where he was?

  But then, why would he have mentioned something about her sending him a reply to an earlier letter he’d sent? ‘I guess I didn’t really expect a reply.’

  She rummaged through the pile of letters, hoping to find the other letter he referred to, the letter, which supposedly ‘went a way towards explaining some things’. They’d got all mixed up when she’d knocked them over that first day and some of the dates were hard to read so impossible to tell what order they were in.

  Maybe she should just open another one? She bit her lip, feeling guilty about reading someone else’s correspondence, and especially something so personal …

  Oh hell, she shouldn’t be doing this! Leonie berated herself.

  ‘Leave it alone you nosy wagon!’ she remonstrated privately, leaving aside the box of letters and turning on the TV. It was late and she was tired, and she really should know better than to let something like this preoccupy her. Goodness knows her snooping had got her into enough trouble in the past!

  She really should make the effort to get out and about a bit more; maybe join a club or something – anything that would help occupy her time and stop her poking her nose into other people’s business. Yes, that’s what she’d do, she decided, flicking through the channels to try and find something interesting to watch.

  But no matter how hard she tried to concentrate on the TV and forget abou
t the letters, Leonie just couldn’t stop thinking about Helena and Nathan and what might have gone amiss in their relationship.

  My darling,

  How are you? Still missing you like crazy but more than anything else, I guess I just hope you’re happy. I still can’t tell you enough how sorry I am, and I hope that someday you’ll understand, and maybe some time in the future, if it’s not too much to ask, you might be able to forgive me.

  I can’t stop thinking about you and how much I miss being with you. I miss your smile, your laugh, the scent of your skin, and it’s driving me crazy not being able to hold you close and tell you how much I love you.

  As I write this, I can just picture you sitting in your favourite place on the windowsill gazing out at the bridge. Maybe the morning fog is slowly cascading over the towers and sweeping into the bay that way you love. You’ve always adored the bridge and although I’ve never been able to share your fascination with it, how could it not be special to me too, when it’s where we first met?

  I still remember how you looked on that day, your beautiful green eyes screwed up in intensity as you tried to find the perfect angle for the perfect shot and your long hair blowing in the breeze. Your camera was pretty much an extension of you back then, and you loved shooting the bridge from every conceivable angle. I can still remember how amazing the weather was that morning, the flaming orange of the towers an incredible contrast against the deep blue sky. You were aiming the lens upwards, trying to capture that visual when this goofball crashed into you and ruined it all…

  Lying in bed, the letter open in her hand, Leonie felt a lump in her throat. He sounded so lovely!

  It was one am and despite herself, all that evening she couldn’t stop thinking about the letters and hadn’t been able to resist opening another one to see if she could find something that might help her restore them to their rightful owner. And blast it; she was just dying to find out what had happened to the couple!

  Clearly this letter wasn’t going to enlighten her much, but from his writing, Nathan really did sound like a lovely, gentle, romantic guy. His heartfelt words and account of how he and Helena had met on the bridge now made her feel almost like she was personally acquainted with them, and when reading that Helena too liked to sit by the bay window and stare out at the bridge, Leonie had felt an odd sense of kinship towards her.

  I miss your smile, your laugh, the scent of your skin, and it’s driving me crazy not being able to hold you close and tell you how much I love you.

  Where it had all gone wrong? Now Leonie really wanted to know. He and Helena had clearly been madly in love right from the off, so what on earth had happened? What was so bad that she couldn’t forgive him?

  Please Forgive Me.

  What on earth had this guy done?

  Chapter 7

  The following morning, she decided to confide in Marcy about opening the letters.

  ‘I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I just couldn’t help it,’ she said.

  It was just before eight am, and she and her boss were out back loading the first Valentine’s Day deliveries into the van before the store opened and the mania began.

  ‘You do know that opening someone else’s mail is a felony, right?’ her boss said dubiously.

  ‘Well yes, but …’ Now Leonie felt panicked. She was so caught up in the contents of the letters that she hadn’t really considered these implications. ‘But the first one was completely unintentional as I really thought it was for me.’

  ‘Doesn’t quite explain the other two though, does it?’ Marcy said, checking the load against the delivery sheet before heading back inside.

  ‘Well, no.’ Leonie reddened, following her. ‘But I’d really like to find some way of getting them back to him.’

  ‘Why? They’re just a bunch of letters.’

  ‘Oh no, you should read them Marcy, he seems really sorry and so genuine –’

  ‘I’m sure he is, sweetheart, but unfortunately he isn’t one of our customers, whereas those guys,’ she said, pointing to the burgeoning queue of men out front, ‘are.’

  In her fixation with Nathan’s plight, Leonie had almost forgotten that today there were plenty of men who needed assistance in keeping their loved ones happy – most of them now waiting outside the store and looking very impatient indeed.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ she gasped, taken aback at length of the queue. ‘Those guys look like they really mean business, don’t they?’

  ‘Yep,’ Marcy grinned, as she opened the door to let in the first wave of eager customers. ‘If you thought yesterday was bad – you ain’t seen nothing yet.’

  At around midday, Leonie was double-checking the afternoon deliveries when something on the delivery sheet caught her eye.

  ‘Look at this,’ she said, pointing out one particular recipient to Marcy. ‘That’s my address.’ The bouquet was addressed to someone in the downstairs apartment of the Green Street house, one of the neighbours that Leonie still hadn’t come across. ‘I could drop it in on my way home later, save the guys a journey,’ she offered, knowing that the delivery vans would be working like crazy trying to get everything out on time today.

  Marcy seemed to like the idea. ‘You don’t mind?’

  ‘Of course not, I’m literally passing the door. Anyway if nothing else it would be a good excuse to meet one of my own neighbours, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Ah, so you have an ulterior motive,’ her boss teased, studying the list of recipients. ‘Alex Fletcher,’ she read out loud. ‘With a name like that it’s hard to tell if that’s male or female, but for your sake honey, here’s hoping it’s a good looking Romeo with buckets of cash.’

  ‘That’s not why I’m offering to drop them off!’ Leonie assured her, ‘Believe me, that kind of complication is the last thing I need.’

  ‘Well, let’s take a look at the card and see if we can find out – just in case,’ the older woman added mischievously, before going out back to seek out the relevant bouquet. ‘I think I wrote this one out myself…aha…here it is.’ She picked up the card from an especially lavish arrangement of red roses. ‘ It just reads ‘Guess who?’’ she said, shrugging in disappointment. ‘Huh. Not very romantic, and it doesn’t tell us much either.’

  ‘And anonymously sent.’ Leonie read over her boss’s shoulder. ‘I don’t remember this being phoned in, do you?’

  ‘Can’t say I recall it from the thousand or so we’ve had this week,’ Marcy said wryly, putting the card back in the envelope and fixing it to the bouquet. ‘Well, whether it’s a he or a she, I guess all this Alex needs to know is they’re getting the best bunch of Valentine roses in the Bay area.’

  ‘I’ll be sure to tell them that,’ Leonie said with a grin.

  ‘You do that. So, are you expecting any deliveries yourself today?’ Marcy asked, trying to sound offhand. ‘From back home, maybe?’

  ‘Nope, and even if I was, I’d be tempted to send them back.’

  ‘Really? Why’s that?’

  Leonie smiled inwardly, knowing Marcy’s mind was probably working overtime by now. ‘Because now I know that today has nothing to do with romance and is more of a money-making exercise,’ she teased, and Marcy shook her head.

  ‘Whatever you say, sweetheart,’ she winked, before they both went back to work.

  ***

  Much later that evening, Leonie took the bouquet of roses back home to Green Street to deliver it to the occupant of the downstairs apartment as promised.

  It had been a crazy day and she was almost dead on her feet, although Marcy had very kindly had a takeaway delivered to the store immediately after closing, so at least she didn’t have to worry about cooking dinner tonight. It was great after such a long day to be able to relax and take it easy without having to rush straight home, but at the same time, Leonie was keenly aware that she had one last job to do.

  Now, knocking lightly on the entrance door adjacent to her own, she gave a quick flick of her hair to try and make hersel
f look some way presentable. After today she probably looked like she’d been dragged through a hedge backwards so God only knows what her neighbour – male or female – would think of some wild redhead calling to the door!

  She was decidedly taken aback when a girl looking none-too-presentable herself opened the door. She was tall, reed thin, and Leonie suspected, normally very beautiful, but at that moment, her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy.

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ the girl gulped, looking aghast at the flowers. ‘Not another one!’

  ‘Erm, delivery for Alex Fletcher?’ Leonie announced timidly, wondering if this had been the best idea. Far from being delighted at the surprise, at that moment the girl couldn’t have looked any more upset than if someone had arrived bearing a stick of dynamite!

  ‘Just take them away – please,’ she insisted, moving backwards into the hallway as if she’d been burned.

  Leonie wasn’t sure what to think. The girl was holding a tissue in one hand and her eyes looked red-raw, as if she’d been crying. God, maybe the flowers weren’t for Valentine’s Day like she and Marcy had automatically assumed?

  ‘I’m very sorry to bother you,’ she said apologetically, ‘but I work for Flower Power, the florist down by Van Ness, and these were ordered for an Alex Fletcher who –’

  ‘I’m sorry, I really can’t take them,’ the girl insisted yet again. ‘Can you take them back please? I don’t want any more flowers. I hate flowers! Or more accurately they hate me. Damn hay-fever,’ she added with a sniff, and only then did Leonie understand the cause of the watery eyes.

  ‘This is the third delivery today, and it’s not friggin’ funny anymore. Not that it was ever funny, but you know what I mean. Anyway, I can’t take these either. And let me guess, they’re anonymous too?’

  ‘But…’ Leonie wasn’t sure what to do, but when Alex sneezed again she decided it was probably best not to force it. ‘I’m sorry,’ she told her, turning to leave, ‘I’ll take them back to the shop tomorrow and just tell the sender we couldn’t make the delivery. We can refund his credit card.’