Forgive Me
Page 35
After dragging some sweats on over her pajama shorts and a T-shirt over her camisole, she slipped her feet into an old pair of flip-flops and texted Maxi with her order. Before leaving she quickly scanned her emails to be sure nothing earth-shattering had cropped up overnight, and finding that nothing had, she went through to the spacious open-plan kitchen-cum-sitting-room and gave a small sigh of pleasure to find it virtually drowning in sunlight.
She loved this apartment so much she could marry it. With its high, stuccoed ceilings, tall sash windows, and wonderfully airy rooms—all two of them, plus a full bathroom containing a utility area—she simply couldn’t bear to think of living anywhere else. It was certainly one of the reasons why she and Greg hadn’t considered moving in together. It wasn’t big enough for two, and it would be crazy to make this their home when his riverfront duplex in Wapping was at least three times the size and, in real-estate terms, far more desirable. Plus, he owned his place outright, thanks to his father, while her first-floor, street-view section of a Georgian town house close to Hollywood Road in Chelsea was rented. It wasn’t that she couldn’t afford a mortgage; she was earning enough now to take on some hefty repayments, but the amount needed for a deposit in an area like this—in fact almost anywhere in London—was still out of her reach, largely thanks to her lavish lifestyle. Her friends had managed their down payments thanks to BoMaD—Bank of Mum and Dad—but her mother could never have found a near-six-figure sum without selling her own house or hairdressing salon, and even if she’d been prepared to do that (she wasn’t), Vivi wouldn’t have let her. However, her mother—refusing Gil’s offer to step in—had practically emptied her savings account to help raise a deposit for the lease on this flat. Having viewed it with Vivi, she’d understood right away why her daughter had fallen in love with it, so she’d been keen to make it happen. Since that time, just over four years ago, Vivi had repaid almost two-thirds of the amount, and by the end of the year her mother’s account, thanks to the interest Vivi had added to the loan, was likely to be healthier than it had ever been.
Still feeling slightly stiff, she performed a couple more stretches, then grabbed her phone and wallet and let herself out of the flat into the black-and-white-tiled front hall where her upstairs neighbors had parked a bicycle and stroller. There were also several paintings lining the walls, all done by the delightful and talented Maryanna, who paced about the large attic studio like a trapped cat in the grip of an artistic frenzy. Though her canvases were as indecipherable as they were confrontational (Maryanna’s word), Vivienne had long ago decided that she loved them. She owned two but had left them in the hall for others in the building and their visitors to enjoy as they came and went.
The large black front door with its colorful stained-glass windows and shiny brass letter box was as grand as any Regency house could boast, as was the Doric columned portico with its ornamental box hedges in tall granite pots. Slender black railings edged the steps down to the pavement, where they turned at right angles to each side to provide a barrier between passersby and the void above the basement flats.
Maxi’s was adjacent, with a handful of bistro tables spilling out of the wide-open bifold doors, its palm-strewn interior with plush leather banquets and slouchy sofas cooled by the gentle spring breeze. In spite of it not yet being nine on a weekend morning, the place was already buzzing.
After collecting her order—free for the birthday girl, Maxi insisted—and bowing her thanks to the Greek regulars whom Maxi encouraged to join in a chorus of charoumena genethlia, Vivi ran back up to the flat accompanied by the musical sound of many text messages arriving.
Five so far. As she read them, still catching her breath after the sprint, she sipped her coffee and blinked away a spell of dizziness. Remembering she hadn’t eaten since yesterday lunchtime, she tucked into her Danish and turned on the radio. Though she probably wouldn’t listen to the news, it was second nature to have it on in the background, and when she’d had enough of it she’d do her usual thing of planting her phone in the speakers and scrolling to some favorite tunes.
More texts piled in, mostly from the GaLs: Trudy, Shaz Saavi, Sachi, and Becky, all saying they couldn’t wait to see her later. In came a surprise message from Michael (FAberlin’s CEO), and then up popped one from Greg.
Have a great day. Can you do dinner with Carla and Seamus on Wednesday? Sushi?
She thought there might be a conflict, so making a mental note to check before getting back to him, she finished up her Danish and began a quick sort of the mail that had come through the door while she was in New York.
Work hard, play hard, that was her motto, and lately she’d been doing far too much of the former. Boy, was she ready to party today!
Praise for Susan Lewis and Her Books
“A compelling, timely mystery.”
—Lisa Ballantyne, Edgar Award–nominated author of The Guilty One, on My Lies, Your Lies
“Full of drama and intrigue, and with so many twists and turns, I promise you’ll be surprised and captivated right to the end.”
—Carmel Harrington, Irish Times bestselling author of A Thousand Roads Home, on My Lies, Your Lies
“Rich, seamless, and masterful storytelling with so many ‘oh my god’ twisty moments. . . . Absolute genius. I was total gripped.”
—Rebecca Thornton, author of The Fallout, on My Lies, Your Lies
“Susan Lewis writes with the most brilliant sense of place that I was there imagining each location vividly.”
—Fionnuala Kearney, author of The Book of Love, on My Lies, Your Lies
“Heartbreaking but ultimately hopeful, with a protagonist you can’t help but relate to.”
—Woman’s Own (UK) on Home Truths
“This hard-hitting story lays bare the problems of drug-taking, internet grooming, and homelessness but is saved from bleakness by the strength and warmth of the characters.”
—My Weekly (UK) on Home Truths
“Susan Lewis has a gift for telling warm family stories that also take you by surprise. One Minute Later will make you savor every second.”
—Jane Corry, bestselling author of My Husband’s Wife
“One Minute Later is an absorbing look at a young woman’s journey from health and good fortune to a life she never imagined. This page-turner challenges readers to evaluate their own lives and choices, and what really matters most.”
—Emilie Richards, bestselling author of A Family of Strangers
“Lyrical and highly emotional, Lewis’s tearjerker will appeal to fans of poignant, heartfelt novels.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review) on One Minute Later
“Susan Lewis’s suspenseful page-turner, One Minute Later, is full of twists and turns.”
—PopSugar
“One of the best around.”
—The Independent on Sunday (UK) on Susan Lewis
“Spellbinding! You just keep turning the pages.”
—Daily Mail (UK) on You Said Forever
“Unputdownable. . . . A compelling blend of family dynamics, courtroom drama, and a love story.”
—Booklist on Don’t Let Me Go
“[A] moving and piquantly beautiful novel of friendship, family and the power of love.”
—The Gazette (UK) on Never Say Goodbye
“An emotionally charged story of justice, revenge and finding peace after a tragedy.”
—Parkersburg (WV) News and Sentinel on The Girl Who Came Back
“A heart-warming, sometimes heart-stopping read. . . . Will have you firmly believing in Susan Lewis’s gifts as a great storyteller.”
—My Weekly (UK) online on Believe in Me
“Deliciously dramatic and positively oozing with tension, this is another wonderfully absorbing novel. . . . An irresistible blend of intrigue and passion, and the consequences of secrets and betrayal.”
—Woman (UK) on A French Affair
Also by Susan Lewis
FICTION
A C
lass Apart
Dance While You Can
Stolen Beginnings
Darkest Longings
Obsession
Vengeance
Summer Madness
Last Resort
Wildfire
Cruel Venus
Strange Allure
The Mill House
A French Affair
Missing
Out of the Shadows
Lost Innocence
The Choice
Forgotten
Stolen
No Turning Back
Losing You
The Truth About You
Never Say Goodbye
Too Close to Home
No Place to Hide
One Minute Later
Home Truths
My Lies, Your Lies
BOOKS THAT RUN IN SEQUENCE
Chasing Dreams
Taking Chances
No Child of Mine
Don’t Let Me Go
You Said Forever
FEATURING DETECTIVE ANDEE LAWRENCE
Behind Closed Doors
The Girl Who Came Back
The Moment She Left
Hiding in Plain Sight
Believe in Me
The Secret Keeper
FEATURING LAURIE FORBES AND ELLIOTT RUSSELL
Silent Truths
Wicked Beauty
Intimate Strangers
The Hornbeam Tree
MEMOIRS
Just One More Day
One Day at a Time
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
P.S.™ is a trademark of HarperCollins Publishers.
FORGIVE ME. Copyright © 2021 by Susan Lewis. Excerpt from ONE MINUTE LATER © 2019 by Susan Lewis. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Originally published in the United Kingdom in 2020 by HarperCollins UK.
FIRST U.S. EDITION
Cover design by Ashley Caswell
Cover photographs © Stephen Mulcahy/Arcangel Images (woman); © BERNATSKAIA OKSANA/Shutterstock (flames)
Smiley face emoji here © popicon / Shutterstock, Inc.
Digital Edition JANUARY 2021 ISBN: 978-0-06-290663-2
Version 12012020
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-290662-5
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