Please Forgive Me (14 page)

‘We did try to notify all existing clients…’

‘No, it’s nothing like that. I wasn’t a client, I mean, I didn’t even know…’ For some reason Leonie couldn’t stop babbling. ‘Can I just ask … I know this is a strange question, but what age is Mr Abbott?’

‘Age?’

‘Yes, it’s just that I’m not quite sure if he is the man I’m looking for.’ God, the woman must think she was a right eejit gabbing on like this! ‘Was he in his twenties, thirties or perhaps fifties?’

Now the receptionist sounded a little impatient. ‘I’m sorry Ma’am, once again I’m afraid I can’t help you. We don’t give out personal information about our employees, current or otherwise.’

‘OK, well can you just tell me when he left the company then?’ she asked quickly.

The woman sighed. ‘Nathan Abbott was no longer an employee of Jones Cantor as of January first this year.’

‘Thank you, I appreciate that,’ she said.

‘My pleasure,’ the receptionist replied.

Leonie hung up the phone, trying to get a handle on her thoughts. That woman had seemed oddly tight-lipped about it all, hadn’t she?

Which made her now wonder if Nathan might have been sacked, or made to leave in disgrace or something? Who knew with these stockbroker types? With all the scandals going on these days you wouldn’t know what might have happened. Although again, Leonie couldn’t imagine someone sounding so sweet and nice like Nathan being involved in anything untoward. Maybe he was the fall guy or something? She’d ask Alex if she knew anything and … oh hell, Leonie scolded herself, she had to stop reaching like this, the man probably just changed jobs, and that was all there was to it!

‘You have the most overactive imagination of anyone I know,’ Adam used to tease her. A bit of a joker himself, he’d always got great mileage out of Leonie’s tendency to overanalyse, which used to drive her demented.

Although, there were a few times she hadn’t minded all that much, Leonie thought sadly, her thoughts drifting back to one particular joke Adam had played on her a couple of years before.

It was a year to the day since she and Adam first met and Leonie was looking forward to celebrating. The year had gone by in a whirlwind, the relationship was going great, and a couple of months before (much to Leonie’s delight) Adam had asked her to move in with him.

She could still hardly believe her luck. This time last year she’d been single and holidaying on her own in Tunisia, and now here she was shacked up with this amazing guy who made her insanely happy and who probably knew her better than she knew herself.

The only fly in the ointment really was Suzanne, and the difficulties Leonie was still having in getting to know her. It was tricky but she was sure the teenager just needed more time to get used to the fact that her beloved father had someone else in his life now. With any luck, she’d come round eventually but in the meantime, for Adam’s sake, all Leonie could do was keep trying.

He doted on his daughter and the more Leonie learned about the situation the more impressed she was with how he handled everything. Although she’d never met Suzanne’s mother, she’d gathered from a number of instances and various frantic phone calls to Adam’s mobile that she could be a bit of a handful.
 
Moreover, she knew that Andrea was not at all impressed by the fact that Adam had a girlfriend and a serious one at that, which made Leonie all the more convinced that the woman still held a candle for him.

While initially, this had made her feel a little bit sorry for Andrea, the demands the woman continually made on Adam gradually changed her mind. In addition to maintenance, he paid for pretty much every other expense involving Suzanne like hobbies, holidays and pocket money. He was incredibly dedicated to his daughter and always so generous and willing to keep his relationship with Andrea on an even keel that Leonie really had to admire him.

Tonight, for their anniversary, he’d booked a table at a Lebanese restaurant in town. ‘It’s the closest I could get to Tunisian food’ he’d told her and Leonie couldn’t wait.
 
As they were now living together it wasn’t as though they needed time alone together, but it would be lovely to celebrate the occasion in some small way.

Midway through the day she got a call from Adam at work.

‘Lee, something’s come up here which means I’ll be back later than usual this evening, so probably best for me to go straight to the restaurant and meet you there.
 
Is that OK?’

‘Of course. How late do you think you’ll be?’

‘Not too late, but not early enough to get home and change either. And speaking of which, do you think you could bring a change of clothes for me to the restaurant? My Ben Sherman shirt
-
the khaki one, not the blue one
-
and maybe those new Levis you bought me for my birthday.’

‘Sure. Anything else?’

‘Nope, that’ll do fine. Just make sure it’s not the blue shirt, OK? I don’t want that one. Sorry about this Lee, but there’s nothing I can do.’

He sounded flustered and Leonie was keen to reassure him. ‘Look, it’s really no problem, and no need to rush back. Just be careful driving won’t you?’

‘I will. See you there sometime after seven then?’

‘Perfect.’

As promised, later that evening, before leaving for the restaurant, Leonie went to the wardrobe to get a change of clothes for Adam.
 

She flicked through his shirts, trying to locate the khaki one that he’d specified, and finding it easily she plucked it off the rail. Then she paused, recalling how he’d been adamant on the phone that it should be this one and not the blue one. What was wrong with the blue one? Was it that it needed a wash or …

Thinking about now, it really wasn’t like Adam to be so bothered about what he was going to wear. Flicking again through the hangers, Leonie spotted the offending blue shirt and lifted it out for a better look.

And as she did, she noticed a bulge in the front right pocket, a bulge that on closer inspection looked suspiciously like …

No! Leonie quickly put both shirts back on the rail as she tried to take this in. There was a little box in the pocket, a red, velvet covered box, which could only be …

No, no this wasn’t what she thought it was, Leonie told herself, but still she couldn’t help taking out the blue shirt again for a closer look. Then, before she knew it, her hand was inside the pocket, and the ring-box in the palm of her hand.

Wow.

Was Adam going to … was he planning to… surely he couldn’t
seriously
have been planning to propose to her tonight? He must be though – why else had he sounded so flustered on the phone and so adamant about the shirt she should (or more to the point
shouldn’t
) bring?

Leonie gulped and her heart thudded a mile a minute. She almost wished she hadn’t spotted the box now. Clearly his plans had been altered, so what should she do – just play dumb and wait until he got another opportunity? But Leonie knew she wouldn’t be able to do that; the suspense would kill her and who knew when Adam
would
eventually decide to do it?

She stared at the closed box, wondering what the ring was like. God, this was so weird, to think that this time last year, she’d been in almost the exact same situation – except this time the ring in the box could very possibly be hers…

Damn it, she had to sneak a peak; knowing Adam it was bound to be gorgeous but if it wasn’t then at least she’d know, and would be well prepared if he presented her with something horrible …

Trying her best to stop her hand from shaking, Leonie opened the little box, and was dismayed to find
-
not the stunning diamond ring she’d anticipated
-
but a tiny piece of folded up paper. What the…?

‘Gotcha!’ was the one word message inside, and Leonie turned the note over, her mind doing cartwheels as she frantically tried to work out what was going on.

‘I’d have thought you’d have learned your lesson by now,’ Adam said from where he stood in the doorway, a broad grin on his face, and Leonie nearly jumped out of her skin.

‘How long have you been there … I didn’t hear you come in… Adam, what’s going on?’ she said perplexed.

‘Didn’t I tell you to go for the khaki shirt?’ he replied, his eyes twinkling as he moved across the room towards her. ‘But of course, you couldn’t resist checking out the blue one that I specifically said not to, could you?’

‘I …’ Leonie was lost for words.

‘Lucky for me that I know you so well, isn’t it?’

By his mischievous tone, (and the fact that he obviously hadn’t been working late at all) Leonie now understood that Adam had most likely planned this whole ruse as some kind of jokey re-enactment of their meeting last year.

And she’d played right into his hands.

‘I can’t believe you did all this just to trick me!’ she gasped, feeling unbelievably stupid.

‘Not just to trick you,’ Adam said, his voice becoming more serious. He nodded again towards the khaki shirt. ‘So are you going to check out that one too, or do I need to do everything myself?’

Leonie could only watch in amazement as he reached inside the pocket of the other shirt and produced another box, one that she in her curiosity about the blue one had completely failed to notice.

‘Leonie Hayes,’ Adam said, opening the box before getting down on one knee, ‘will you and that inquisitive mind and overactive imagination of yours, marry me?’

***

The following Friday after work, Alex called upstairs to Leonie’s place – her laptop under her arm. She was going to be tickled pink by this! she thought knocking on her door.

Truthfully, Alex was still a bit taken aback at how much time the two of them were spending together lately. While she’d never been big on the whole neighbourly relations thing, Leonie was good fun to be around, and had this sweet kind of guileless way about her that made Alex almost protective of her. Jon had confessed he liked her too, and from the way Leonie in turn had gushed about him after the other night, she knew the feeling was mutual.

But all that aside, Alex was loving trying to unravel this thing with the letters!

To her, such a mystery was an itch that needed to be scratched, and following Leonie’s recent report that the stockbroker firm had turned out to be a dead end, she’d spent a couple more hours at work searching online for any other information on the couple. OK, so they might have hit a blind alley with Nathan, but with regard to his wife… well they just might be getting somewhere …

‘Hi.’ Leonie said, somewhat surprised to see her. ‘What’s up?’

‘I think I found something,’ Alex said, waving the sheet of paper she held in her other hand and when Leonie looked confused she went on, ‘Something else that might help us find our couple. Sorry, is this is a bad time?’ she asked, realising that her neighbour looked a bit frazzled.

‘No, no I was just about to start dinner,’ Leonie replied. ‘Would you like me to make you some too?’

‘Well if you’re sure, sounds great, I’d love that.’ Alex wasn’t such a great cook; in fact sometimes she got so caught up in researching a story that she almost forgot to eat. So yep, having Leonie around was definitely becoming a real bonus!

‘Don’t get too excited, it’s nothing fancy – just some tomato pasta and a salad.’

‘Well, count me in anyway.’

Leonie duly returned to the kitchen to boil up some pasta before rejoining Alex in the living room. ‘So, tell me what’s going on?’ she asked then. ‘You said you found something on the Abbotts?’

Alex handed her the sheet of paper. ‘A photographer’s studio in Monterey.’

‘OK.’ Leonie seemed dubious. ‘How exactly does that help us?’

‘Well,’ Alex set her laptop down on the coffee table and powered it up, ‘When you got nowhere with finding Nathan, I did another couple of searches using Helena’s name in association with photography.
 
And look at this, some of the photographs on this particular studio’s website are credited to none other than… Helena Abbott!’ she finished with no little trace of pride.

‘Really?’

‘Yep. I remember you mentioning something about her photographing the bridge. So instead of just restricting the search with her name and the photography references to the city, I widened it to the entire state. This popped up.’

Leonie sat down alongside her in front of the laptop as the studio’s website filled the screen. ‘Wow, you really
are
good at this. Do you actually think it could be her?’

‘Only one way to find out. Says here they’re open till nine, so do you want to phone them, or will I?’

‘Oh God you!’ Leonie said quickly. ‘You’d be much better at that kind of thing than me. I told you what I was like with your woman from the stockbrokers. It was like getting blood out of a stone.’

‘No problem,’ Alex said easily. ‘Can I use this phone?’

‘Of course, go ahead. But what are you going to say?’

She shrugged. ‘I guess I’ll just ask to speak to Helena and take it from there.’ Picking up the receiver, she dialled the number listed on the website. The phone was answered after three rings.

‘Cannery Row Photography, Mark speaking, how can I help you?’

‘Hey there Mark,’ Alex greeted, while Leonie watched her, an eager expression on her face. ‘Could I speak to Helena Abbott please?’

‘I’m afraid Helena’s on vacation at the moment,’ Mark replied. Alex grimaced and made a thumbs-down sign to Leonie.

‘She’s on vacation? Oh, well perhaps you can help me in any case,’ she continued, thinking on her feet. ‘I’m calling from San Francisco, and I’m wondering if Helena happened to work in the Bay area at any time? The reason I ask is that I’ve got some really great shots of the Golden Gate Bridge credited to a Helena Abbot, and I’m hoping it’s the same Helena.’

Mark hesitated. ‘I’m not sure, she may well have worked in San Francisco one time, but I couldn’t be certain. I’ve only been with the studio a couple of months.’