Page 76 of One Last Gift

Robert stared at her. “What?”

“No. I haven’t logged on, because…” She looked at Josh, who nodded. “Because I quit.” She realized then that she had no idea how to officially resign. Saying “I quit” was the type of thing that sounded good, in theory, but actually left you with no idea what to do next. Surely there was a way to officially resign? Notice to be worked? And, God, she was overthinking it—her brain was definitely doing its best to take away from her moment.

“I quit,” she said again. “And I’ll…” What? What did she say now? “Well, I won’t be working here any longer.”

Robert’s face went from blank to seething, his jaw clenched, eyes flashing, and she knew he was ready to jump on this, that he was about to tell her to get out, in that case. She knew that would ruin it, would make her panic about it, so she grabbed her bag and practically ran out of the office door, up the stairs to the reception area.

She heard Josh following her, spun to face him. He was grinning. “Here,” he said, thrusting an envelope into her hands. “You forgot this.” He gave her a wink, then dashed back to the office, no doubt to face Robert’s fury.

It was just like the others: a small, white envelope. No number on it, but a little man doing a victory dance was drawn on the front. There was a speech bubble coming from the little man’s mouth.

You did it.

She blew out a breath as she stepped out of the hotel onto the pavement. She had. She’d done it. She’d gotten to the end.

She opened the envelope, and when she saw what her gift was, what Tom had been gearing up to all this time, she felt all the blood rush from her head.

The house. In Wales. Tiff’s house.

Tom wanted her to buy it. And he’d given her the means to do it.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Cassie stood next to Amy in the little second bedroom of her flat, which she’d converted into a nursery. Amy’s little boy was asleep, tiny pudgy hands clenched into fists, little chubby legs wriggling every now and then. Tom’s nose, she decided. He had Tom’s nose. Maybe he’d look more like him as he grew up, although right now that was all she could see. But that little part, well, it proved it, didn’t it? There was a part of Tom still here, right in front of her.

She dashed away a tear as she watched him sleep and Amy put an arm around her. “Sorry,” Cassie whispered, and Amy shook her head. They stayed like that for a moment longer, then crept out of the bedroom and into the living room.

Cassie made Amy sit while she made them two herbal teas, then carried them to the sofa and sat down next to her. Amy’s parents were out at the moment, so it was just the two of them, but Amy had told her that her mum was staying another two months to help out. Even with the help, Amy looked knackered: dark circles under her eyes, her curly hair done up loosely in a bun on top of her head—no headband—her face pale. Still, when she smiled at Cassie, it looked genuine.

“I’m sorry I haven’t come by more,” Cassie said.

Amy blew on her tea. “Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t have been much fun before now, anyway. Although, I still don’t feel normal. Mum keeps saying I’m going to have to get used to a new normal.”

“I knew your parents were here,” Cassie explained, still feeling the need to justify, “and I didn’t want to, I don’t know, get in the way or intrude or whatever.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re his auntie, you could never intrude.”

Cassie felt her eyes burn a little at that, took a sip of her tea to hide it. “So. Have you settled on Albert for sure now? That’s the name you were going for last time we spoke, I think?”

Amy wrinkled her nose. “Oh yes. The Albert phase. I don’t know what I was thinking there. It must have been the hormones or lack of sleep or something.”

Cassie’s lips twitched. “So no Albert?” She had to admit, she was a little relieved about that.

“No. I’ve been toying with Leo, but I’m not quite sure. It’s ridiculous that I still can’t decide, I know, and I have to soon, but it’s just, nothing seems quite right somehow.”

“In that case,” Cassie said slowly, “there might be another name to consider.” She slipped Tom’s letter out of her handbag, saw Amy frowning at it. “It’s the letter Tom left for me, when I did the final clue.” She held it out gently. “I think you might want to read it.” She waited while Amy read, watched her frown even out, watched her blink as she took in the words. Watched as she hitched in a sobbing breath when she got to the last part.

“He was going to come back.”

Cassie nodded. “He was. He loved you, Amy.”

Amy met Cassie’s gaze. “Thank you for showing me.” She held the letter back out to her and Cassie reached out to take it, but Amy’s fingers tightened on the paper. “Sorry,” she said. “I know it’s yours, I just…” Cassie gently pried Amy’s fingers away, then looked down at the letter. She made a crease with her nails, then tore off the P.S. section, handed it back to Amy.

Amy looked down, and then, with another sob, took it, gripped it in her fist. “Thank you,” she whispered, then took a shaking breath. “So, Noah, hey?”

“Not that there’s any pressure,” Cassie said quickly. “I just…I thought you might like to know.”

“I quite like it, I think.”