One Hundred Proposals. Holly Martin. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Holly Martin
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Короткие любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472097927
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hugely. ‘I don’t want to sound big-headed, because the feeling was entirely mutual, but I could see your brother was head over heels in love with me. That look never faded in all the eight years we were together.’

      I smiled.

      ‘Harry’s probably the same. He’s looking for The One.’

      ‘I don’t think he is. He doesn’t actually believe in love or The One.’

      ‘Oh that’s rubbish. I know he was hurt badly when he was a kid, and he’s holding back from falling in love in case he gets hurt again, but when he finds the right woman, he’s never going to let her go.’

      I felt myself go very still.

      ‘What do you mean, he was hurt as a kid?’

      Jules went very pale. ‘I thought you knew.’

      ‘He told me he didn’t believe in love, not long after we first met. I thought he’d just come out of a painful break up. What do you know that I don’t?’

      Jules turned away and started picking up Bella’s toys. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything. You and Harry are so close, I thought you knew.’

      ‘He hasn’t really told me anything about his past. I know he doesn’t speak to his parents.’ I swallowed. ‘Did they hurt him?’

      ‘No, he wasn’t beaten or abused, it wasn’t like that. It’s not my place to say. I only know because Badger accidentally let it slip to me once. Just forget I said anything.’

      As if I could. Although I didn’t feel I could push Jules into telling me. If Harry wanted me to know then he would have told me.

      Jules threw the toys into a big chest and picked up her wine glass, swirling it around and studiously staring at the contents. ‘You know he was offered a job.’

      My wine got stuck in my throat and I coughed to release it. She seemed very caught up on her gossip, especially Harry gossip.

      ‘Where, when?’

      ‘Last week. It would have paid very well. I don’t know what you’re paying him but I doubt it would come close to this. Company car, pension plan, private health care plus lucrative shares in the company.’

      I gaped. ‘He doesn’t like big companies and office politics. He’s always said he’d never go back to working somewhere like that. Remember that job he turned down in America?’

      ‘His dream job?’

      ‘It wasn’t his dream job.’

      ‘He sure did talk about it for months, about how excited he was.’

      It was true that when Harry first came into my life there was a big plan to move to New York and the great job he was going to be starting out there. But one day he’d told me he’d had second thoughts.

      ‘Apparently people weren’t happy with the merger that was taking place and the new CEO. He didn’t want to get involved in all of that. As I said, he doesn’t like office politics.’

      ‘Didn’t he cancel the contract around the same time that Jack died?’

      Words dried in my mouth. No. He couldn’t possibly have cancelled the contract because of me, to be there for me. Not if it really had been his dream job.

      ‘I’m just saying, he keeps being offered these fabulous opportunities and he keeps turning them down. His Connected money isn’t going to last him forever, especially considering how generous he is with it. It would be hard to turn down that kind of salary.’

      ‘What kind of salary?’

      She told me and I felt the blood drain from my face – it was nearly five times what he was on with me.

      ‘So the question is, why would he stay?’

      ‘He likes working for our company. It’s his now too, he’s built it up to what it is.’

      ‘Ok, I can see he would have some kind of loyalty towards you and the company, but I think there’s another reason.’

      She stared at me, her pale blue eyes unblinking.

      ‘Well it’s not me is it?’

      She stared at me. Thankfully, then the timer on the oven went off indicating our pizza was cooked.

      Jules smiled as she got to her feet. ‘Just think about it.’

      She went into the kitchen. As if I could do anything but think about it.

      *

      I sat on the tube, staring at my bag, feeling the envelope burning through the leather onto my lap. My mind had been filled with Harry all night, and why he would turn down such an opportunity and the job in America, but all thoughts of him had been wiped clean when Jules handed me this envelope at the end of the evening.

      The train rattled to a stop at another underground station.

      A letter from Jack. Jules had found it amongst his things. There had been one for her and one for Bella too. She hadn’t opened it, of course, she gave it to me to read at the end of the night. She obviously wanted me to read it then and there but I wanted to be alone for that. I promised to tell her what it said after I’d read it.

      Now my hands were itching to tear it open, but not here, not with the late night Friday drunks and party goers. I just wanted to get back home as quick as I could to my little flat to be alone with Jack’s words.

      What had he wanted to say to me all those months before? Why didn’t he say it in the last few days? Everything had happened so quickly. From the time he was diagnosed with leukaemia until the day he’d died had been just six months. But he had been fit, strong and laughing almost to the very end. He had never let it get him down. The last week had been awful, where he had deteriorated before our very eyes, but even then, even in the last few days he had still kept his humour. We had been with him at the end, all of us. Mum and Dad had flown over from New Zealand, me, Jules, Harry, Badger and a huge number of his friends had stayed with him as he just went to sleep and never woke up.

      And now, here was a message from him.

      My train arrived at my stop and I hurried up the steps and along the streets. It was quiet in this part of town, even though we were very central. The old Victorian style street lights lit the way ahead with sporadic puddles of light. The green was deserted but I habitually looked over to Harry’s house as I walked down the opposite side. The downstairs light was still on, but then he was always a night owl. I ran up the steps to my front door and then up the stairs to my top floor flat, whipping out the letter as I closed the door behind me.

      I stared at the letter in my hand. I wanted to open it and devour the words inside that Jack had written eight months before. But I was scared as well. I started pacing the lounge. Suddenly I didn’t want to do this alone. I grabbed the phone and dialled Harry’s number. It was late but he was still clearly awake.

      It rang several times before he answered. He sounded croaky.

      ‘Hey.’

      ‘Hi, are you busy?’

      He paused for a moment before he spoke. ‘Are you ok?’

      I was silent. It was pathetic really, needing Harry to hold my hand as I read the message from beyond the grave. But I knew that opening this letter would unleash a whole heap of emotions, and I didn’t want to be alone when that happened. But Harry had been there for me so many times over the last few months – at the funeral and afterwards – just holding me when I would suddenly burst into tears, and the lovely day out he took me on the day before just to cheer me up. I was suddenly hesitant about asking him again.

      Though my silence spoke volumes.

      ‘I’ll be round in two minutes.’

      I tried to protest but it was quite clear Harry was no longer there.

      There was