Chapter 59
A few days later, Naboo walks into the living room carrying the post.
"Have you eaten anything?"
"No." I say quietly, hoping he won't hear me.
"Did you sleep?"
"No."
"You're making yourself ill."
"I don't care."
"You should. Where's Howard?"
"In the shop."
"Ok. Eat something." He goes to leave but turns back. "You have post."
"From who?" He shrugs.
"I don't know. The address is handwritten, though, so it's not a bill." He hands me the letter.
"Who could be writing to me?" I murmur, mostly to myself. I think I recognise the handwriting, but I'm not sure. Opening the letter, I begin to read.
'Vince.
I'm so, so sorry. I only wanted to help. I thought that, maybe, I could. I've missed you. I don't expect you to say you've missed me, or that you forgive me, but please, please, realise I mean it when I say I'm sorry. Sorry for what I did, and for what I didn't do; for what I said, for what I didn't say; for everything. I highly doubt that you will, but please give me another chance to help you. Please. If you do, here's my number: 077871189240.
Julia.'
I re-read the letter again and again, trying to make sense of it. I don't know what to do. Should I give her another chance? Does she deserve it? Of course she does. It wasn't her fault. I pick up the phone and dial, not noticing that my hand is trembling.