Something from Tiffany’s Read online

  Also by Melissa Hill

  Something You Should Know

  Not What You Think

  Never Say Never

  All Because of You

  Wishful Thinking

  The Last to Know

  Before I Forget

  Please Forgive Me

  The Truth About You

  About the Author

  Melissa Hill lives with her husband Kevin, daughter Carrie, and dog Homer in Co. Dublin. Previous titles including: The Truth About You, Please Forgive Me, Before I Forget and The Last to Know, have all been bestsellers, and her books have been translated into 18 different languages.

  For more information, visit her website at www.melissahill.info or www.facebook.com/melissahillbooks

  SOMETHING FROM TIFFANY’S

  Melissa Hill

  www.hodder.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain in 2011 by Hodder and Stoughton

  An Hachette UK company

  Copyright © Melissa Hill 2011

  The right of Melissa Hill to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  Epub ISBN: 9781848946071

  Book ISBN: 9780340993347

  Hodder and Stoughton Ltd

  338 Euston Road

  London NW1 3BH

  www.hodder.co.uk

  CONTENTS

  Also by Melissa Hill

  About the Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  There were lots of wonderful things going on while writing this book, not least the arrival of baby Carrie right in the middle of it. Huge thanks to her for taking it so easy on her clueless parents in the early days, thus allowing me to complete the story with minimum disruption.

  Thanks and much love to Kevin who effortlessly kept things on an even keel throughout possibly our busiest year ever.

  Huge thanks to Dr Dockeray and the wonderful staff at Mount Carmel hospital who got family life off to a great start, and made our first days with Carrie so special.

  To my fantastic parents, sisters and in-laws who are always there to offer a helping hand, it means so much, thank you.

  Heartfelt thanks to super-agent and great friend Sheila Crowley – a true miracle-worker. I just couldn’t ask for better and I owe you so much.

  To my amazing editor Isobel Akenhead, working with you is such a joy, and my stories are so much richer for your input, thank you.

  To Breda, Jim, Ruth and all at Hachette Ireland who work so hard on my behalf, I’m very grateful.

  To everyone who buys and reads my books, and who has sent me so many lovely messages through my website www.melissahill.info. I love hearing from you and treasure every message.

  My thanks once again to the booksellers all over the world who give my books terrific support; it’s very much appreciated.

  Finally, massive, massive thanks to my brilliant publishers Hodder, who are amazing to work with – and who inspired this book by introducing me to the wonders of a certain little blue box . . .

  Dedicated with much love to my

  beautiful baby daughter, Carrie

  Chapter 1

  The significance of what he was about to do wasn’t lost on Ethan Greene. It was a big moment in his life; it would be in any man’s, he guessed.

  But as he battled through the Manhattan crowds on possibly the busiest shopping day of the year, he wished that he’d chosen a better time.

  Christmas Eve on Fifth Avenue? He must be mad.

  Taking a deep breath of the cold air, which was refreshing and not as damp as it usually was in London, he couldn’t help but think how little had changed since the last time he was in this city and, at the same time, how much had.

  Arriving in New York only two days earlier, he’d surprised himself by how well he remembered the landmarks and how easily he found his way around. The jostle of the subway ride from midtown to downtown and back again, the scent of well-worn vinyl taxi seats and the endless hum of a billion sounds – human or inanimate – buoyed him. The unmistakable buzz of the place put a new spring in his step, something he hadn’t felt in years.

  But now Ethan was in a hurry and acutely aware that the minutes were ticking by and the crowds seemed to be growing thicker. There wasn’t much time left.

  Alongside him Daisy squeezed his hand briefly as if sensing what he was thinking, yet she couldn’t possibly know what he’d planned. All he’d said was that he needed to make one more stop before they returned to the warmth of their hotel. Conscious of how much he hated crowds (and shopping for that matter) she was probably just trying to put him at ease.

  How would she react? OK, so the idea had been on the cards for a while and had been mentioned more than once recently, so by rights today shouldn’t really be too much of a surprise. While she seemed keen, Ethan now realised that he really should have spoken to her about today – it was unlike him not to discuss such matters with her in more detail – but the truth was that he was nervous. What if her reaction wasn’t as positive as he’d anticipated? As he wondered, an anxious lump appeared in his throat. Well, he’d find out her reaction soon enough, especially when they reached their destination.

  She looked especially pretty today, he thought, wrapped up in a multitude of layers to keep out the teeth-chattering cold, her blonde curls creeping out under a dark woollen hat, and her red nose appearing above a black embroidered scarf. Despite the cold, she was loving New York just as he’d known she would, and everyone knew there was no better time than Christmas to visit the city that never sleeps. Yes, this was a good idea, Ethan reassured himself. Everything would work out fine.

  Finally, having negotiated their way through the mass of last-minute shop
pers, they reached the corner of Fifth Avenue and Fifty-Seventh Street. He looked at Daisy, and her eyes widened in surprise as he took her hand and steered them both towards the entrance.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she squealed, glancing at the familiar nameplate beside the doorway, its typically clean-line wording on polished granite today surrounded by verdant pine branches especially for the Christmas season. ‘What do we need here?’

  ‘I told you – I need to pick something up,’ Ethan replied, leading the way and giving her a brief wink as the revolving glass doors deposited them in the hallowed halls of Tiffany & Co.

  Daisy was immediately captivated by the vast, high-ceilinged sales floor and its column-free design, and she gazed in amazement at the long rows of glass-fronted cases, their precious wares twinkling alluringly under the spotlights.

  ‘Oh wow, it’s all so beautiful,’ she whispered in awe, standing in the middle of the aisle as crowds of equally spellbound shoppers and tourists milled around her, each one fascinated by the breathtaking jewellery displays. The store was one of the few in Manhattan that didn’t utilise lavish festive decoration; its sparkling wares required little embellishment, and combined with the unmistakably romantic Tiffany’s allure this was more than enough to create that magical Christmas feeling.

  ‘It is, isn’t it?’ Ethan agreed, his nervousness dissipating somewhat now they were here. He took her arm and guided her between the various display cases and down towards the elevators at the back, his tired feet temporarily soothed by the soft-carpeted floor.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked, moving forward reluctantly. ‘Slow down a bit! Can’t we take a look around? I’ve never been here before and . . . Where are we going?’ she repeated, bemused, as the elevator doors opened.

  ‘The second floor, please,’ Ethan requested.

  ‘Certainly, sir.’ The besuited lift attendant complied, graciously bowing his top-hatted head. He smiled at Daisy. ‘Madam.’

  ‘But . . . why would we be going there?’ she asked, her voice hushed, and he deduced she’d read from the directory display overhead what was on this particular floor. She was certainly taken with the place, but however enthralled she’d been downstairs, he knew she would really be impressed by the second floor.

  Ethan’s heart began to hammer in his chest as the elevator doors closed. Would she be OK with this? Again, he probably should have just come right out and asked, but he figured that she’d enjoy the surprise, and he also thought it was important that she felt very much a part of it.

  His voice was light. ‘Like I said, I need to pick something up.’

  Now Daisy gazed open-mouthed at him. ‘You’re not . . .’ she gasped, immediately understanding, but from her expression Ethan still couldn’t quite gauge her reaction, and he guessed the presence of the attendant was intimidating her into asking no further questions.

  Within seconds, the elevator doors reopened and he and Daisy stepped out into the wood-panelled room on Tiffany’s famed Diamond Floor, where he had come to collect his purchase.

  ‘I can’t believe this!’ she was saying as they approached one of the hexagon-shaped wood-and-glass display cases, her head swivelling from left to right as she watched various happy couples around the room being served champagne while they made what would arguably be the most important purchase of their lives. ‘I really can’t believe it! This is what you’re picking up?’

  Ethan smiled nervously. ‘I know I should have said something but—’

  ‘Ah, Mr Greene.’ An elderly and distinguished sales assistant addressed Ethan before either had a chance to say anything more. ‘Pleasure seeing you again. Everything is in order and ready to go. We weren’t sure, and I forgot to ask on the phone, if you preferred your purchase already gift-wrapped, or wanted to show the lady first . . .’ He smiled at Daisy, who beamed back at him, wide-eyed.

  ‘Oh yes, let me see, please!’ she exclaimed and then put a guilty hand to her mouth, conscious that she really should be showing a little more decorum – especially in a place like this.

  Ethan hid a smile.

  ‘Well, here we are,’ the older man said, his voice low and gentle as he presented them with the world-renowned little blue box. Placing it ceremoniously on the glass display in front of Daisy, he pulled back the lid to reveal the platinum marquise solitaire Ethan had chosen a couple of days before.

  The ring had needed to be sized correctly, which was why he was picking it up today, and now considering it afresh he was pretty sure he’d made a good choice. It was the classic Tiffany setting: the diamond lifted slightly above the band and held in place by six platinum prongs in order to maximise the stone’s brilliance.

  ‘So what do you think?’ he asked Daisy, but it was pretty obvious that she was captivated by the beautiful ring, although that wasn’t really the question Ethan was asking.

  But when she turned to look at him, her delighted expression told him everything he needed to know.

  ‘It’s the perfect choice, Daddy,’ Ethan’s eight-year-old daughter assured him, ‘and Vanessa is going to absolutely love it!’

  Thank goodness her reaction had been positive.

  All day – no, strike that, all month – Ethan had worried about how Daisy would feel about this. Especially when this New York trip held a special significance for both of them.

  Earlier that day, over a couple of hot chocolates in a midtown café, he had watched his daughter pick at an iced lemon cupcake, and known that something was on her mind. Just as her mother had always done, Daisy got that squinty look in her eyes and offset her jaw ever so slightly when deep in thought.

  ‘Did you like Times Square?’ he asked, fishing. ‘With all the lights and everything?’

  ‘Everything’s just so beautiful,’ she replied and then paused, looking out of the window at the bustling street. ‘Mum said Manhattan was like one big Christmas tree at this time of year. She was right.’

  ‘You really remember how much your mother talked about it, don’t you?’ he asked.

  She gave a little smile. ‘I know I was only small, but I loved hearing about it.’

  Ethan nodded. ‘Of course, she was right about it being like a big Christmas tree. Your mum was right about lots of things.’

  Suddenly, the significance of sitting here with his daughter in the city that her mother had adored so much washed over Ethan and almost took his breath away. Swallowing hard, he tried to gather his thoughts.

  ‘You know what else she was right about?’ Ethan added, and Daisy looked intently at him as she always did whenever he had something about her mother to relate. It wasn’t lost on him that his daughter was seldom more attentive than when he offered some piece of the puzzle, whose parts probably seemed quite scattered to her; to him it was as if she were an archivist of some sort, gathering and assembling the pieces of a great legacy and putting them in order. Ethan continued with a smile, ‘She was right that you would grow into a bright and beautiful girl.’

  Daisy grinned and turned back to the window to watch the goings-on of a very busy Fifth Avenue on Christmas Eve.

  It had been nine years since his last and only other trip here. Jane, Daisy’s mum, had convinced Ethan to see the city and, making the trip from their home in London, see it they did.

  Jane was a born and bred New Yorker and just couldn’t bear to spend another springtime ‘without a stroll through Central Park as the leaves begin to change’. She said dramatic things out of the blue like that every now and then, to which Ethan usually responded by asking if it were actually she and not he who was the English language lecturer. ‘No, Professor,’ she would say with a wink. ‘You’re the brainy, creative one around here, whereas I’m just a born romantic.’

  Jane’s parents had retired to Florida in the meantime, so she didn’t get to visit the city of her birth as often as she’d have liked.

  Daisy had been conceived in the Big Apple during that visit. The running joke between Jane and Ethan – one that Jane had n
o problem sharing with their friends and family – was that Daisy existed because they’d taken the expression ‘the city that never sleeps’ quite literally.

  As a personal trainer and nutritionist, Jane did her best to keep Ethan in tip-top shape, a fact that was all the more ironic when she developed ovarian cancer and discovered that, unless the chemotherapy worked a miracle, she had only mere months to live.

  Daisy was five at the time. Jane and Ethan were head over heels in love but had never got round to getting married, and he’d wanted to change that, especially once they heard the news.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart. We’ve been happy so far; why change now?’ Jane insisted. ‘Besides,’ she added jokingly, ‘soon I won’t have enough hair left to wear a veil!’

  By then Ethan would have gone along with anything she wished and Jane had several last wishes.

  One of them was that he took their daughter to visit New York at Christmas when she was old enough to appreciate and enjoy it. She had spent hours weaving for Daisy tales of the magic of Manhattan and of her own childhood Christmases there.

  When, a few months back, Daisy herself started talking about making the trip, Ethan knew it was time.

  One evening over dinner he mentioned the idea to his girlfriend, Vanessa, who he hoped might be keen to join them. Although he knew the trip to the city would hold particular significance for him and Daisy because of its association with Jane, he also felt it was important that Vanessa be included. Their relationship had taken a serious turn over the last six months, and maybe, just maybe, it was meant to be that the three of them should spend time in New York together.

  Perhaps this trip would be a kind of rite of passage into the next stage of his and Daisy’s life? It was three years since Jane’s death and Ethan was pretty certain they had her blessing to move on; another of her last wishes was that he shouldn’t remain alone.

  ‘Go and find a woman who’ll bake you bread,’ she’d laughed, in what Ethan knew was a reference to a long-standing joke about their dietary habits. Jane’s strict healthy-eating obsession meant that they rarely ate heavy refined starchy foods like bread or potatoes, something a carb fan like Ethan had always struggled with. And in the end, it hadn’t mattered what any of them ate; the cancer had taken her from them anyway.