Josephine Cox Sunday Times Bestsellers Collection. Josephine Cox
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Название: Josephine Cox Sunday Times Bestsellers Collection

Автор: Josephine Cox

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Классическая проза

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isbn: 9780007590667

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СКАЧАТЬ He needed to stay down for a while. He needed to think.

      Vicky put the guard in front of the fire, gave him a kiss, and made her way upstairs. She thought nothing of him not going up with her. Often Leonard would work in his study long after she’d gone to sleep.

      Upstairs, she made her way to the bathroom, while downstairs Leonard remained in the armchair, his hand spread over his jacket pocket where the letter was safely tucked away.

      He wanted to open the letter and read it, but his every instinct once more urged him to throw it into the fire.

      After a time, common sense took over. He knew he should read the letter, if only to make sure it contained nothing that could harm himself or his adopted family. And if it was a threat, he might need to deal with it as quickly as possible.

      Taking out the letter he glanced towards the door; he could still hear Vicky pottering about in the bedroom upstairs. He got out of his chair and went across the room, where he quietly closed the door.

      Returning to his chair, he sat a moment, the letter in his hand, his gaze mesmerised by the flames dancing in the coals. ‘Come on, old man,’ he chided himself. ‘Open the damned thing and see who it’s from!’

      With trepidation he opened the letter, surprised to find another envelope inside, which was simply addressed to Vicky.

      Unfolding the accompanying letter, he thought he might have recognised the sweeping scrawl, but that was not the case. Instead his fears were made tenfold by what was written there:

       Dearest Leonard,

       I hope you will not think badly of me for writing to you after all this time, but lately my conscience has been troubling me, so much so that I feel compelled to make contact with you.

       I’ve spoken with Dr Lucas, who very reluctantly gave me your address in Boston, but please don’t blame him for that. I can be very persuasive when needs must.

       All I ask of you is that you give Vicky the enclosed letter. It tells of the tragic circumstances that made Barney send his family away. I know from Dr Lucas that you have faithfully kept the promise you made to Barney, and I respect you for that, as I realise what a heavy burden you have had to carry alone.

       Now though, before the truth is lost forever, I believe it is time to tell Vicky and the family. If you give her my letter, in which I have written about Barney and the way it was, you will not be breaking your promise.

       I could have addressed this letter to Vicky and sent it via your office; the doctor stopped short of giving me your home address. But I believe it is right for me to send the letter to you, and leave the choice to you and your conscience. If you decide not to give her the letter, I will of course accept your decision and I will never again contact either of you.

       However, I am hoping that over the years you have been tempted to tell her, and were not able to because of your promise. This way, if you do give her the letter, it will be me who tells and your promise will remain intact.

       I believe the time is right for Barney’s family to learn that he never stopped loving them. For the remainder of his short life, he talked of them, and longed for them, and his heart remained broken up to the day he lost his fight to live.

       I can imagine you reading this letter now, and being torn in two by it, and I am deeply sorry for that. You may pass the letter to Vicky, or you may dispose of it, and she will never know. Please, Leonard, don’t be rash in your judgement.

       We saw what happened, you and I, and we know what pain it caused both Barney and the family. Surely, in your heart you must accept that it is their right to be made aware of the facts.

       I have enclosed my address here. Please let me know what you decide,

       Yours, with fondest memories,

       Lucy

      Shaken by what he had just read, Leonard made no move for what seemed an age. After a while, he read the letter again, and again, until every word was burned into his mind. ‘I can’t tell her,’ he murmured. ‘How can I hurt her like that? How can I tell Barney’s children that they deserted their father when he was so desperately ill?’ A great burst of rage surged through him; slamming his fist on the arm of the chair he cried out, ‘I CAN’T DO IT TO THEM! I WON’T! DO YOU HEAR ME, LUCY? I WON’T HURT THEM LIKE THAT!’

      Taking the envelope addressed to Vicky, he crumpled it in his hand. When, emotionally broken, he bent his head and began to sob, the crumpled letter slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground, and as it did so, the door opened and there stood Vicky, alerted by his cries and looking shocked to see him so upset.

      Before he could prepare himself, she had walked towards him, on the way recovering the crumpled envelope from the floor. ‘What is it, Leonard?’ she asked worriedly. ‘I heard you cry out. What’s wrong? Has something happened? Is it Ronnie?’ Of all her children, it was always Ronnie she worried about the most.

      Realising there was no way back, Leonard looked up with haggard eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, my dear. So terribly sorry.’ Holding out the letter, he pleaded forlornly, ‘Read it. Read them both, and I hope you can find the generosity of heart to forgive me.’

      Confused and anxious, she took the letter from him, and as she prepared to read it, he could see his whole life slipping away.

      As Vicky read Lucy’s words, a sense of horror came over her. When she had finished reading, she looked at Leonard in disbelief, her face set like stone. She said not a word, and her expression gave nothing away.

      She walked to the table, where she set down the letter addressed to herself and with slow, measured movements straightened the envelope so it was readable.

      Leonard watched her open it and read the letter. With a broken cry, she leaned forward, hands on the table, eyes closed and her whole body seeming to tremble in shock. Lucy’s words were emblazoned on her soul …

       ‘he never stopped loving them … he talked of them, and longed for them, and his heart remained broken up to the day he lost his fight to live …’

      Her pain was crippling. ‘I didn’t know,’ she sobbed and gasped over and over. ‘I didn’t know, I didn’t know. Dear God, we none of us knew!’

      For one aching moment Leonard was tempted to go to her and hold her. But his instincts warned him against it. Instead he watched and prayed that she might understand the reason why he had deceived her for so long.

      After a time she collected both letters and, without a glance at him, walked across the room and out of the door. Then she was gone, leaving him alone and afraid. ‘What have I done?’ he whispered. ‘Dear God, what have I done?’

      Afraid for her, afraid for the family, and for his part in their lives, he went after her.

      As he came out onto the verandah, he saw her, some short distance down the garden, leaning against a tree, bent double as she sobbed his name. ‘Why did you do it, Barney?’ Her broken voice echoed in the still night air. ‘Why did you send us away … why did you make us hate you, when all the time, all we ever wanted was to be with you?’ The sobbing СКАЧАТЬ