Page 123 of Meet Me Under the Mistletoe
He opened the door and pulled his collar up against the cold, and soon he was lost in the mass of Christmas shoppers.
Andrew came back into the shop bearing mugs of hot tea.
“Who was that?” he asked, glancing at the folder on the desk.
“Guy,” said Nory absently.
Andrew sucked in a breath. “What did he want?”
“To give me his investigation into Heba.”
“Why did he give it to you?”
“He says it’s my choice whether I pass it on to Isaac or not.”
Andrew looked at the folder as though it contained explosives. “Which way are you leaning?”
“I don’t know.”
Nory was on the sofa, Mugwort half off her lap, as though to let her know that he could take her or leave her. He had sulked for the last nine days, though she wasn’t sure if he was punishing her because she had gone away or because she had returned and taken him away from his beloved Matilda.
The tastefully decorated artificial Christmas tree managed to look huge in Nory’s apartment even though it was only four feet tall. Each year she liked to meander around Fortnum & Mason and take inspiration from their decorations. This year she had splashed out on a gold stag to sit on the mantel above the skinny Victorian fireplace. Of course, the fireplace itself was long since defunct, but it made a lovely feature...
The plain-looking manila folder that was the cause of so much internal conflict sat on the coffee table, next to a tin foil tray of Pepe’s spaghetti puttanesca, a side of garlic bread with mozzarella and parmesan, and a tiramisu; Nory wasnotone of those people who forgot to eat when they were heartsick.
Her initial thought was that maybe she should catch the train down to Hartmead and present Isaac with the folder face-to-face. But given their last encounter, she felt that her presence might make him dismiss the contents out of hand without giving it a fair look.
Another idea had been to bury the folder in the bottom of her wardrobe and forget about it. And then maybe in twenty years time she would send it on, and everything between them would be water under the bridge and they might even renew their friendship. The flaws with this idea were, firstly, that he might be married with children by then; secondly, she didn’t want thatfolder beating its presence in her wardrobe like the Jumanji game until she was fifty; and thirdly, twenty years was far too long to be living on tenterhooks.
“Oh, Mugwort! What shall I do?”
Mugwort pricked up one ear and gave her a disdainful side-eye before tucking his head under his paws.
“Unfortunately, not all of us have the luxury of burying our heads in our paws.”
Mugwort would not be drawn into an argument and began to snore.
Nory nudged the folder with her foot as though the answer might float out from between the pages. She thought about Tristan and the decision he had made that could never be undone. When held up against that, whichever choice she made would be less final; there was a way back from anything but death. Perhaps it was a macabre way to think, but for Nory, it was a way to not forget, a way to put things into perspective. Because however desperate she might feel at times in her life, she would—God willing—never feel as desperate as her dear friend must have felt.
She took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. She knew what she would do. Deep down she had known all along. She would post the folder to Isaac and let him have the choice. It was, after all, his family legacy and therefore rightfully his decision. Of course, it would likely be the final death knell of their short-lived relationship. But if Isaac decided to go ahead and let Guy publish, and Heba got her name rightfully restored to her work, then maybe she could live with the mess she’d made of everything. One good thing would have come of it. Maybe justice for Heba would be enough to sustain her through the heartbreak of losing Isaac.
Nory got up early the next morning to get to the post office before work. She handed the parcel, wrapped in thick brown paper, over the counter and paid extra for express delivery. The clerk took the package and tossed it casually into a sack behind the counter, as though her whole heart wasn’t held within. Nory sent out a silent prayer to the universe that Isaac would see that her motives were pure, even if her execution had been clumsy.
Dear Isaac,
Please don’t dismiss this package out of hand. It contains Guy’s full investigation, and he believes that you have a strong case against the De-Veers. It’s all in there. Please read it. I know that I went against your wishes. There aren’t enough sorrys in the world to express my remorse that I betrayed your trust. I ruined something that I think could have been wonderful and I’ll have to live with that.
Guy has given me his word that he won’t take this to print without your consent. It is your choice. If I can make just one thing good out of this mess, then maybe I can live with the thought of never seeing you again.
I want you to know that nothing happened between Guy and me, I promise you. It never would have. He took me by surprise, and I was dealing with the situation when you found us. The truth is, that from the moment we met, there could never be anyone else but you.
Please don’t let your anger at me color your judgment when it comes to Heba’s legacy. Everything you need toright the wrong that was done to your family is within these pages.
I hope that one day you can forgive me.
With all my love, always,
Nory xxx
