This letter would be a mockery of the depth of my feelings for you and the extent of my mortification if I did not beg you to pardon me for my behaviour all those years ago when I should have shown more self-control. I could argue that I was young and naive, but the result is the same, my actions resulted in causing you unimaginable sadness. I have no right to ask this of you, but I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.
With love and great esteem for you,
Marco.
Esme removed her spectacles and sat back in her chair. There was not a trace of anger from Marco in his letter. That’s what she had dreaded: that he would be furious he had been kept in ignorance all these years. Oh, what a relief it was finally to have shared it with him and to know his reaction. Several times during his stay with her, she had come close to telling him – especially when he had seen his portrait in her bedroom and shed a tear over it – but her courage had failed her. As cowardly as it was, a letter had seemed the easier way.
As for Marco’s invitation to visit him in Venice, she most certainly would go. Why not?
For so long her world had been shrinking until it was hardly more than a tiny bubble of existence, but that changed the day Adam and Floriana came into her life. Through their friendship, she had been given a new lease of life; they had opened her eyes to the opportunities that still lay ahead for her.
To her dismay, she saw now that before they’d befriended her, she had been effectively waiting for the end, believing the best had gone. But it was not the case. While she still had her health, there was plenty yet for her to enjoy. Gone were the days when she would be satisfied to fill her time listening to the radio while doing the crossword, she was now a woman who had things to do and plans to make!
Her first task was to start using the laptop Adam had given her. It was an unwanted cast-off from the office, he’d explained last night when he presented her with it, together with a small box with flashing lights that would magically hook her up to the internet. He had given her a lesson in what to do, as well as writing out clear and very precise step-by-step instructions, which he assured her would enable her to communicate by email. ‘Just remember, you learnt to use a mobile phone,’ he’d said, ‘so there’s no reason why you can’t do this.’ Under his expert and extremely patient tutelage, she had sent an email to Floriana, and within minutes had received a reply.
Sitting at the table in the window of her drawing room, Esme decided now was as good a time as any to try sending her first email unaided. Carefully following Adam’s instructions, and putting in the email address she had been given, she began tapping very slowly at the keyboard. Really it wasn’t so very different to using an old-fashioned typewriter – she had been a dab hand with those back in the dark ages of technology. Actually, this was a lot easier. With a little laugh, the expression old dogs and new tricks popped into her head. Aha! Not such a dinosaur after all, she thought cheerfully.
When she had finished her short message, she read what she had written, checking it for any errors. After she’d erased a few glaring typos, she nodded with satisfaction and read it through one last time.
Dear Marco,
Thank you for your invitation to visit you in Venice, I would love to come. When do you suggest?
As for forgiving you, I already have. So please, can we now accept that no one is to blame for what happened?
With love,
Esme.
P.S. I do hope you’re impressed with my newly learnt computer skills. You have Adam to thank for that.
It was then, and with enormous trepidation, she carefully positioned the cursor over the little arrow icon and tapped it momentously.
‘There now,’ she said to Euridice who, from her lookout post on the window sill, pricked up her ears at the whooshing sound of the message launching itself into the ether, ‘what do you think to that?’
Plainly unimpressed, the cat swished her tail and returned her attention to looking out of the window. She was instantly rewarded with the sight of Adam and Floriana walking by towards Adam’s house next door. They waved to Esme and pointing to her watch, Floriana held up a hand to indicate the number five, meaning they’d be round in five minutes.
‘Time to get the kettle on,’ Esme said to the cat. ‘And you know, if it wasn’t so early in the morning, I’d suggest something stronger as I suddenly feel in the mood to celebrate. After all, there’s so much to be thankful for, isn’t there?’
Euridice jumped down from the window sill and followed Esme to the kitchen. A few minutes later, returning to the drawing room, Esme heard a pinging sound coming from the laptop. She looked at the screen and with a smile of delight, she saw she had received an email all the way from Venice.
Oh, what a strange and wonderful world it was she now inhabited, she thought happily, as she sat down to read Marco’s reply.
With an insatiable appetite for other people’s business, Erica James will readily strike up conversation with strangers in the hope of unearthing a useful gem for her writing. She finds it the best way to write authentic characters for her novels, although her two grown-up sons claim they will never recover from a childhood spent in a perpetual state of embarrassment at their mother’s compulsion.
The author of seventeen bestselling novels, including her most recent,
The Hidden Cottage
, Erica divides her time between England and Lake Como in Italy, where she now strikes up conversation with unsuspecting Italians.
Find out more at
www.ericajames.co.uk
A Breath of Fresh Air
Time for a Change
Airs and Graces
A Sense of Belonging
Act of Faith
The Holiday
Precious Time
Hidden Talents
Paradise House
Love and Devotion
Gardens of Delight
Tell it to the Skies
It’s the Little Things
The Queen of New Beginnings
Promises, Promises
The Real Katie Lavender
The Hidden Cottage
AN ORION EBOOK
First published in Great Britain in 2013 by Orion Books
This ebook first published in 2014 by Orion Books
Copyright © Erica James 2013
The right of Erica James to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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 permission in writing of the publisher, nor to be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN
: 978 1 4091 4598 1
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