PS I LOVE U 3-10

Three


HOLLY WAS WALKING THROUGH AN entire field of pretty tiger lilies; the wind was
blowing gently, causing the silky petals to tickle the tips of her fingers as she pushed through
the long strands of bright green grass. The ground felt soft and bouncy beneath her bare feet,
and her body felt so light she almost seemed to be floating just above the surface of the spongy
earth. All around her birds whistled their happy tune as they went about their business. The sun
was so bright in the cloudless sky she had to shield her eyes, and with each brush of wind that
passed her face, the sweet scent of the tiger lilies filled her nostrils. She felt so . . . happy, so
free. A feeling that was alien to her these days.
Suddenly the sky darkened as her Caribbean sun disappeared behind a looming gray cloud. The
wind picked up and the air chilled. Around her all the petals of her tiger lilies were racing
through the air wildly, blurring her vision. The once spongy ground was replaced with
sharp-pebbled stones that cut and scraped her feet with every step. The birds had stopped
singing and instead perched on their branches and stared. Something was wrong and she felt
afraid. Ahead of her in the distance a gray stone was visible amid the tall grass. She wanted to
run back to her pretty flowers, but she needed to find out what was ahead.
As she crept closer she heard Bang! Bang! Bang! She quickened her pace and raced over the
sharp stones and jagged-edged grass that tore at her arms and legs. She collapsed to her knees in
front of the gray slab and let out a scream of pain as she realized what it was. Gerry's grave.
Bang! Bang! Bang! He was trying to get out! He was calling her name; she could hear him!
Holly jumped from her sleep to a loud banging on the door. “Holly! Holly! I know you're there!
Please let me in!” Bang! Bang! Bang! Confused and half asleep, Holly made her way to the door
to find a frantic-looking Sharon.
“Christ! What were you doing? I've been banging on the door for ages!” Holly looked around
outside, still not fully alert. It was bright and slightly chilly, must be morning.
“Well, aren't you going to let me in?”
“Yeah, Sharon, sorry, I was just dozing on the couch.”
“God, you look terrible, Hol.” Sharon studied her face before giving her a big hug.
“Wow, thanks.” Holly rolled her eyes and turned to shut the door. Sharon was never one to beat
around the bush, but that's why she loved her so much, for her honesty. That's also why Holly
hadn't been around to see Sharon for the past month. She didn't want to hear the truth. She
didn't want to hear that she had to get on with her life; she just wanted . . . oh, she didn't know
what she wanted. She was happy being miserable. It somehow felt right.
“God, it's so stuffy in here, when's the last time you opened a window?” Sharon marched
around the house opening windows and picking up empty cups and plates. She brought them
into the kitchen, where she placed them in the dishwasher and then proceeded to tidy up.
“Oh, you don't have to do it, Sharon,” Holly protested weakly. “I'll do it . . .”
“When? Next year? I don't want you slumming it while the rest of us pretend not to notice. Why
don't you go upstairs and shower and we'll have a cup of tea when you come down.”
A shower. When was the last time she had even washed? Sharon was right, she must have
looked disgusting with her greasy hair and dark roots and dirty robe. Gerry's robe. But that was
something she never intended to wash. She wanted it exactly as Gerry had left it. Unfortunately,
his smell was beginning to fade, replaced by the unmistakable stink of her own skin.
“OK, but there's no milk. I haven't got around to . . .” Holly felt embarrassed by her lack of care
for the house and for herself. There was no way she was letting Sharon look inside that fridge or
Sharon would definitely have her committed.
“Ta-da!” Sharon sang, holding up a bag Holly hadn't noticed her carry in. “Don't worry, I took
care of that. By the looks of it, you haven't eaten in weeks.”
“Thanks, Sharon.” A lump formed in her throat and tears welled in her eyes. Her friend was
being so good to her.
“Hold it! There will be no tears today! Just fun and laughter and general happiness, my dear
friend. Now shower, quick!”
Holly felt almost human when she came back downstairs. She was dressed in a blue tracksuit
and had allowed her long blond (and brown at the roots) hair to fall down on her shoulders. All
the windows downstairs were wide open and the cool breeze rushed through Holly's head. It felt
as though it were eliminating all her bad thoughts and fears. She laughed at the possibility of her
mother being right after all. Holly snapped out of her trance and gasped as she looked around
the house. She couldn't have been any longer than half an hour, but Sharon had tidied and
polished, vacuumed and plumped, washed and sprayed air freshener in every room. She followed
the noise she could hear to the kitchen, where Sharon was scrubbing the hobs. The counters
were gleaming; the silver taps and draining board at the sink area were sparkling.
“Sharon, you absolute angel! I can't believe you did all this! And in such a short space of time!”
“Ha! You were gone for over an hour. I was beginning to think you'd fallen down the plughole.
You would and all, the size of you.” She looked Holly up and down.
An hour? Once again Holly's daydreaming had taken over her mind.
“OK, so I just bought some vegetables and fruit, there's cheese and yogurts in there, and milk of
course. I don't know where you keep the pasta and tinned foods so I just put them over there.
Oh, and there's a few microwave dinners in the freezer. That should do you for a while, but by
the looks of you it'll last you the year. How much weight have you lost?”
Holly looked down at her body; her tracksuit was sagging at the bum and the waist tie was
pulled to its tightest, yet still drooped to her hips. She hadn't noticed the weight loss at all. She
was brought back to reality by Sharon's voice again. “There's a few biscuits there to go with
your tea. Jammy Dodgers, your favorite.”
That did it. This was all too much for Holly. The Jammy Dodgers were the icing on the cake.
She felt the tears start to run down her face. “Oh, Sharon,” she wailed, “thank you so much.
You've been so good to me and I've been such a horrible, horrible bitch of a friend.” She sat at
the table and grabbed Sharon's hand. “I don't know what I'd do without you.” Sharon sat
opposite her in silence, allowing her to continue. This is what Holly had been dreading, breaking
down in front of people at every possible occasion. But she didn't feel embarrassed. Sharon was
just patiently sipping her tea and holding her hand as if it were normal. Eventually the tears
stopped falling.
“Thanks.”
“I'm your best friend, Hol. If I don't help you, then who will?” Sharon said, squeezing her hand
and giving her an encouraging smile.
“Suppose I should be helping myself.”
“Pah!” Sharon spat, waving her hand dismissively. “Whenever you're ready. Don't mind all
those people who say that you should be back to normal in a month or two. Grieving is all part
of helping yourself anyway.”
She always said the right things.
“Yeah, well, I've been doing a lot of that anyway. I'm all grieved out.”
“You can't be!” said Sharon, mock disgusted. “And only two months after your husband is cold
in his grave.”
“Oh, stop! There'll be plenty of that from people, won't there?”
“Probably, but screw them. There are worse sins in the world than learning to be happy again.”
“Suppose.”
“Promise me you'll eat.”
“Promise.”
“Thanks for coming round, Sharon, I really enjoyed the chat,” Holly said, gratefully hugging her
friend, who had taken the day off work to be with her. “I feel a lot better already.”
“You know it's good to be around people, Hol. Friends and family can help you. Well, actually
on second thought, maybe not your family,” she joked, “but at least the rest of us can.”
“Oh, I know, I realize that now. I just thought I could handle it on my own–but I can't.”
“Promise me you'll call around. Or at least get out of the house once in a while?”
“Promise.” Holly rolled her eyes. “You're beginning to sound like my mom.”
“Oh, we're all just looking out for you. OK, see you soon,” Sharon said, kissing her on the
cheek. “And eat!” she added, poking her in the ribs.
Holly waved to Sharon as she pulled away in her car. It was nearly dark. They had spent the day
laughing and joking about old times, then crying, followed by some more laughing, then more
crying again. Sharon gave her perspective, too. Holly hadn't even thought about the fact that
Sharon and John had lost their best friend, that her parents had lost their son-in-law and Gerry's
parents had lost their only son. She had just been so busy thinking about herself. It had been
good being around the living again instead of moping around with the ghosts of her past.
Tomorrow was a new day and she intended to begin it by collecting that envelope.


Four


HOLLY STARTED HER FRIDAY MORNING well by getting up early. However, although
she had gone to bed full of optimism and excited about the prospects that lay ahead of her, she
was struck afresh by the harsh reality of how difficult every moment would be. Once again she
awoke to a silent house in an empty bed, but there was one small breakthrough. For the first
time in over two months, she had woken up without the aid of a telephone call. She adjusted
her mind, as she did every morning, to the fact that the dreams of Gerry and her being together
that had lived in her mind for the past ten hours were just that–dreams.
She showered and dressed comfortably in her favorite blue jeans, trainers and a baby pink
T-shirt. Sharon had been right about her weight, her once tight jeans were just about staying up
with the aid of a belt. She made a face at her reflection in the mirror. She looked ugly. She had
black circles under her eyes, her lips were chapped and chewed on and her hair was a disaster.
First thing to do was to go down to her local hairdresser's and pray they could squeeze her in.
“Jaysus, Holly!” her hairdresser Leo exclaimed. “Would ya look at the state of ya! People make
way! Make way! I have a woman here in a critical condition!” He winked at her and proceeded
to push people from his path. He pulled out the chair for her and pushed her into it.
“Thanks, Leo. I feel really attractive now,” Holly muttered, trying to hide her beetroot-colored
face.
“Well don't, 'cos you're in bits. Sandra, mix me up the usual; Colin, get the foil; Tania, get me
my little bag of tricks from upstairs, oh and tell Paul not to bother getting his lunch, he's doing
my twelve o'clock.” Leo ordered everyone around, his hands flailing wildly as though he were
about to perform emergency surgery. Perhaps he was.
“Oh sorry, Leo, I didn't mean to mess up your day.”
“Of course you did, love, why else would you come rushing in here at lunchtime on a Friday
without an appointment. To help world peace?”
Holly guiltily bit her lip.
“Ah, but I wouldn't do it for anyone else but you, love.”
“Thanks.”
“How have you been?” He rested his skinny little behind on the counter facing Holly. Leo must
have been fifty years old, yet his skin was so flawless and his hair, of course, so perfect that he
didn't look a day over thirty-five. His honey-colored hair matched his honey-colored skin, and he
always dressed perfectly. He was enough to make a woman feel like crap.
“Terrible.”
“Yeah, you look it.”
“Thanks.”
“Ah well, at least by the time you walk out of here you'll have one thing sorted. I do hair, not
hearts.”
Holly smiled gratefully at his odd little way of showing he understood.
“But Jaysus, Holly, when you were coming in the front door did you see the word 'magician' or
'hairdresser' on the front of the salon? You should have seen the state of the woman who came
in here today. Mutton dressed as lamb. Not far off sixty, I'd say. Handed me a magazine with
Jennifer Aniston on the cover.
“ 'I want to look like that,' she says.”
Holly laughed at his impression. He had the facial expression and the hand movements all going
at the same time.
“ 'Jaysus,' I says, 'I'm a hairdresser not a plastic surgeon. The only way you'll look like that is if
you cut out the picture and staple it to your head.' ”
“No! Leo, you didn't tell her that!” Holly's mouth dropped in surprise.
“Of course I did! The woman needed to be told, sure wasn't I helping her? Swanning in here
dressed like a teenager. The state of her!”
“But what did she say!” Holly wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. She hadn't laughed like
that for months.
“I flicked the pages of the mag for her and came across a lovely picture of Joan Collins. Told her
it was right up her street. She seemed happy enough with that.”
“Leo, she was probably too terrified to tell you she hated it!”
“Ah, who cares, I have enough friends.”
“Don't know why,” Holly laughed.
“Don't move,” Leo ordered. Suddenly Leo had become awfully serious, and his lips were pursed
together in concentration as he separated Holly's hair to get it ready for coloring. That was
enough to send Holly into stitches again.
“Ah, come on, Holly,” Leo said with exasperation.
“I can't help it, Leo, you got me started and now I can't stop!” Leo stopped what he was doing
and watched her with amusement.
“I always thought you were for the madhouse. No one ever listens to me.”
She laughed even harder.
“Oh, I'm sorry, Leo. I don't know what's wrong with me, I just can't stop laughing.” Holly's
stomach ached from laughing so hard, and she was aware of all the curious glances she was
attracting but she just couldn't help it. It was as if all the missed laughs from the past couple of
months were tumbling out at once.
Leo stopped working and made his way back round to the mirror, where he propped himself
back on the counter and watched her. “You don't need to apologize, Holly, laugh all you like,
you know they say laughing is good for the heart.”
“Oh, I haven't laughed like this for ages,” she giggled.
“Well, you haven't had much to laugh about, I suppose,” he smiled sadly. Leo loved Gerry, too.
They had teased each other whenever they met, but they both knew it was all in fun and were
very fond of each other. Leo snapped himself out of his thoughts, tousled Holly's hair playfully
and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “But you'll be all right, Holly Kennedy,” he assured
her.
“Thanks, Leo,” she said, calming herself down, touched by his concern. He went back to work
on her hair, putting on his funny little concentrating face. Holly giggled again.
“Oh, you laugh now, Holly, but wait till I accidentally give you a stripy head of color. We'll see
who's laughing then.”
“How's Jamie?” Holly asked, keen to change the subject before she embarrassed herself again.
“He dumped me,” Leo said, pushing aggressively with his foot on the chair's pump, sending
Holly higher into the air but causing her to jerk wildly in her chair.
“O-oh Le-eo, I-I-I-m soooo sor-reeee. Yo-ooou twooo we-eerree soooo gree-aat
togeeeeth-eeer.”
He stopped pumping and paused. “Yeah, well, we're not so gree-aat together now, missy. I
think he's seeing someone else. Right. I'm going to put two shades of blond in; a golden color
and the blond you had before. Otherwise it'll go that brassy color that's reserved for prostitutes
only.”
“Oh Leo, I'm sorry. If he has any sense at all he'll realize what he's missing.”
“He mustn't have any sense; we split up two months ago and he hasn't realized it yet. Or else he
has and he's delighted. I'm fed up; I've had enough of men. I'm just going to turn straight.”
“Oh Leo, now that's the most stupid thing I've ever heard . . .”
Holly bounced out of the salon with delight. Without Gerry's presence beside her, a few men
looked her way, something that was alien to her and made her feel uncomfortable, so she ran to
the safety of her car and prepared herself for her parents' house. So far today was going well. It
had been a good move to visit Leo. Even in his heartbreak he worked hard to make her laugh.
Holly took note of it.
She pulled up to the curb outside her parents' house in Portmarnock and took a deep breath. To
her mother's surprise Holly had called her first thing in the morning to arrange a time to meet up.
It was three-thirty now, and Holly sat outside in the car with butterflies in her tummy. Apart
from the visits her parents had paid to her over the past two months, Holly had barely spent any
proper time with her family. She didn't want all the attention directed at her; she didn't want the
intrusive questions about how she was feeling and what she was going to do next being fired at
her all day. However, it was time to put that fear aside. They were her family.
Her parents' house was situated directly across the road from Portmarnock beach, the blue flag
bearing testament to its cleanliness. She parked the car and stared across the road to the sea. She
had lived here from the day she was born till the day she moved out to live with Gerry. She had
loved waking up to the sound of the sea lapping against the rocks and the excited call of the
seagulls. It was wonderful having the beach as your front garden, especially during the summer.
Sharon had lived around the corner, and on the hottest days of the year the girls would venture
across the road in their summer's best and keep an eye out for the best-looking boys. Holly and
Sharon were the complete opposite of each other. Sharon with her brown hair, fair skin and
huge chest. Holly with her blond hair, sallow skin and small chest. Sharon would be loud,
shouting to the boys and calling them over. Holly would just stay quiet and flirt with her eyes,
fixing them on her favorite boy and not moving them till he noticed. Holly and Sharon really
hadn't changed all that much since.
She didn't intend to stay long, just to have a little chat and collect the envelope that she had
decided could possibly be from Gerry. She was tired of punishing herself about what could be
inside it, so she was determined to end her silent torture of herself. She took a deep breath, rang
the doorbell and placed a smile on her face for all to see.
“Hi, love! Come in, come in!” said her mother with the welcoming, loving face that Holly just
wanted to kiss every time she saw her.
“Hi, Mum. How are you?” Holly stepped into the house and was comforted by the familiar smell
of home. “You on your own?”
“Yes, your father's out with Declan buying paint for his room.”
“Don't tell me you and Dad are still paying for everything for him?”
“Well, your father might be, but I'm certainly not. He's working nights now so at least he has a
bit of pocket money these days. Although we don't see a penny of it being spent on anything for
here.” She chuckled and brought Holly to the kitchen, where she put the kettle on.
Declan was Holly's youngest brother and the baby of the family, so her mum and dad still felt
like they had to spoil him. If you could see their “baby”: Declan was a twenty-two-year-old child
studying film production at college and constantly had a video camera in his hand.
“What job has he got now?”
Her mother rolled her eyes to heaven. “He's joined some band. The Orgasmic Fish, I think they
call themselves, or something like that. I'm sick to death of hearing about it, Holly. If he goes on
one more time about who was there at their gigs promising to sign them up and how famous
they're going to be, I'll go mad.”
“Ah, poor Deco, don't worry, he'll eventually find something.”
“I know, and it's funny, because of all you darling children, he's the least I worry about. He'll
find his way.”
They brought their mugs into the sitting room and settled down in front of the television. “You
look great, love, I love the hair. Do you think Leo would ever do mine for me, or am I too old
for his styles?”
“Well, as long as you don't want Jennifer Aniston's hairstyle, you'll have no problems.” Holly
explained the story about the woman in the salon and they both rolled around laughing.
“Well, I don't want the Joan Collins look, so I'll just stay clear of him.”
“That might be wise.”
“Any luck with a job yet?” Her mother's voice was casual but Holly could tell she was just dying
to know.
“No, not yet, Mum. To be honest I haven't even started looking; I don't quite know what I want
to do.”
“You're right,” her mother nodded. “Take your time and think about what you like, or else you'll
end up rushing into a job you hate, like the last time.” Holly was surprised to hear this. Although
her family had always been supportive of her over the years, she found herself moved by the
abundance of their love.
The last job Holly had had was working as a secretary for an unforgiving little slimeball in a
solicitor's office. She had been forced to leave her job when the little creep failed to understand
that she needed time off work to be with her dying husband. Now she had to go looking for a
new one. For a new job, that is. At the moment it seemed unimaginable to go to work in the
morning.
Holly and her mother relaxed, falling in and out of conversation for a few hours until Holly
finally built up the courage to ask for the envelope.
“Oh, of course, love, I completely forgot about it. I hope it's nothing important, it's been there
for a long time.”
“I'll find out soon enough.”
They said their good-byes and Holly couldn't get out of the house quickly enough.
Perching herself on the grass overlooking the golden sand and sea, Holly ran her hands over the
envelope. Her mother hadn't described it very well, for it was not an envelope at all but a thick
brown package. The address had been typed onto a sticker so she couldn't even guess the origin.
And above the address were two words thick and bold–THE LIST.
Her stomach did a little dance. If it wasn't from Gerry, then Holly had to finally accept the fact
that he was gone, gone completely from her life, and she had to start thinking about existing
without him. If it was from him she would be faced with the same future but at least she could
hold on to a fresh memory. A memory that would have to last her a lifetime.
Her trembling fingers gently tore at the seal of the package. She turned it upside down and
shook the contents out. Out fell ten separate tiny little envelopes, the kind you would expect to
find on a bouquet of flowers, each with a different month written on them. Her heart missed a
few beats as she saw the familiar handwriting on a loose page underneath the pile of envelopes.
It was from Gerry.
Five
HOLLY HELD HER BREATH, AND with tears in her eyes and a pounding heart, she read
the familiar handwriting knowing that the person who had sat down to write to her would never
be able to do so again. She ran her fingers over his words knowing that the last person to have
touched the page was him.
My darling Holly,
I don't know where you are or when exactly you are reading this. I just hope that my letter has
found you safe and healthy. You whispered to me not long ago that you couldn't go on alone.
You can, Holly.
You are strong and brave and you can get through this. We shared some beautiful times together
and you made my life . . . you made my life. I have no regrets. But I am just a chapter in your
life, there will be many more. Remember our wonderful memories, but please don't be afraid to
make some more.
Thank you for doing me the honor of being my wife. For everything, I am eternally grateful.
Whenever you need me, know that I am with you.
Love Forever,
Your husband and best friend,
Gerry
PS, I promised a list, so here it is. The following envelopes must be opened exactly when labeled
and must be obeyed. And remember, I'm looking out for you, so I will know . . .
Holly broke down, sadness sweeping over her. Yet she felt relief at the same time; relief that
Gerry would somehow continue to be with her for another little while. She leafed through the
small white envelopes and searched through the months. It was April now. She had missed
March, and so she delicately picked out that envelope. She opened it slowly, wanting to savor
every moment. Inside was a small card with Gerry's handwriting on it. It read:
Save yourself the bruises and buy yourself a bedside lamp!
PS, I love you . . .
Her tears turned to laughter as she realized her Gerry was back!
Holly read and reread his letter over and over in an attempt to summon him back to life again.
Eventually, when she could no longer see the words through her tears, she looked out to the sea.
She had always found the sea so calming, and even as a child she would run across the road to
the beach if she was upset and needed to think. Her parents knew that when she went missing
from the house they would find her here by the sea.
She closed her eyes and breathed in and out along with the gentle sighing of the waves. It was
as though the sea were taking big deep breaths, pulling the water in while it inhaled and pushing
it all back up onto the sand as it exhaled. She continued to breathe along with it and felt her
pulse rate slow down as she became calmer. She thought about how she used to lie by Gerry's
side during his final days and listen to the sound of his breathing. She had been terrified to leave
him to answer the door, to fix him some food or to go to the toilet, just in case that was the time
he chose to leave her. When she would return to his bedside she would sit frozen in a terrified
silence while she listened for his breathing and watched his chest for any movement.
But he always managed to hang on. He had baffled the doctors with his strength and
determination to live; Gerry wasn't prepared to go without a fight. He kept his good humor right
up until the end. He was so weak and his voice so quiet, but Holly had learned to understand his
new language as a mother does her babbling child just learning to talk. They would giggle
together late into the night, and other nights they would hold each other and cry. Holly
remained strong for him throughout, as her new job was to be there for him whenever he needed
her. Looking back on it, she knew that she needed him more than he needed her. She needed to
be needed so she could feel she wasn't just idly standing by, utterly helpless.
On the second of February at four o'clock in the morning, Holly held Gerry's hand tightly and
smiled at him encouragingly as he took his last breath and closed his eyes. She didn't want him
to be afraid, and she didn't want him to feel that she was afraid, because at that moment she
wasn't. She had felt relief, relief that his pain was gone, and relief that she had been there with
him to witness the peace of his passing. She felt relieved to have known him, to love him and to
be loved by him, and relief that the last thing he saw was her face smiling down on him,
encouraging him and assuring him it was OK to let go.
The days after that were a blur to her now. She had occupied herself by making the funeral
arrangements and by meeting and greeting his relatives and old school friends that she hadn't
seen for years. She had remained so solid and calm through it all because she felt that she could
finally think clearly. She was just thankful that after months his suffering was over. It didn't
occur to her to feel the anger or bitterness that she felt now for the life that had been taken away
from her. That feeling didn't arrive until she went to collect her husband's death certificate.
And that feeling made a grand appearance.
As she sat in the crowded waiting room of her local health clinic waiting for her number to be
called, she wondered why on earth Gerry's number had been called so early in his life. She sat
sandwiched between a young couple and an elderly couple. The picture of what she and Gerry
had once been and a glimpse of the future that could have been. And it all just seemed unfair.
She felt squashed between the shoulders of her past and her lost future, and she felt suffocated.
She realized she shouldn't have had to be there.
None of her friends had to be there.
None of her family had to be there.
In fact, the majority of the population of the world didn't have to be in the position she was in
right now.
It didn't seem fair.
Because it just wasn't fair.
After presenting the official proof of her husband's death to bank managers and insurance
companies, as if the look on her face weren't enough proof, Holly returned home to her nest and
locked herself away from the rest of the world, which contained hundreds of memories of the
life she had once had. The life she had been very happy with. So why had she been given
another one, and a far worse one at that?
That was two months ago and she hadn't left the house until today. And what a welcome she
had been given, she thought, smiling down at the envelopes. Gerry was back.
Holly could hardly contain her excitement as she furiously dialed Sharon's number with
trembling hands. After reaching a few wrong numbers she eventually calmed herself and
concentrated on dialing the correct number.
“Sharon!” she squealed as soon as the phone was picked up. “You'll never guess what! Oh my
God, I can't believe it!”
“Eh no . . . it's John, but I'll get her for you now.” A very worried John rushed off to get Sharon.
“What, what, what?” panted a very out-of-breath Sharon. “What's wrong? Are you OK?”
“Yes I'm fine!” Holly giggled hysterically, not knowing whether to laugh or cry and suddenly
forgetting how to structure a sentence.
John watched as Sharon sat down at her kitchen table looking very confused while she tried
with all her strength to make sense of the rambling Holly on the other end. It was something
about Mrs. Kennedy giving Holly a brown envelope with a bedside lamp in it. It was all very
worrying.
“Stop!” shouted Sharon, much to Holly and John's surprise. “I cannot understand a word you are
saying, so please,” Sharon spoke very slowly, “slow down, take a deep breath and start from the
very beginning, preferably using words from the English language.”
Suddenly she heard quiet sobs from the other end.
“Oh, Sharon,” Holly's words were quiet and broken, “he wrote me a list. Gerry wrote me a list.”
Sharon froze in her chair while she digested this information.
John watched his wife's eyes widen and he quickly pulled out a chair and sat next to her and
shoved his head toward the telephone so he could hear what was going on.
“OK, Holly, I want you to get over here as quickly but as safely as you can.” She paused again
and swatted John's head away as if he were a fly so she could concentrate on what she had just
heard. “This is . . . great news?”
John stood up from the table insulted and began to pace the kitchen floor trying to guess what it
could be.
“Oh it is, Sharon,” sobbed Holly. “It really is.”
“OK, make your way over here now and we can talk about it.”
“OK.”
Sharon hung up the phone and sat in silence.
“What? What is it?” demanded John, unable to bear being left out of this obviously serious
event.
“Oh sorry, love. Holly's on the way over. She . . . em . . . she said that, eh . . .”
“What? For Christ's sake?”
“She said that Gerry wrote her a list.”
John stared at her, studied her face and tried to decide if she was serious. Sharon's worried blue
eyes stared back at him and he realized she was. He joined her at the table and they both sat in
silence and stared at the wall, lost in thought.
Six
“WOW,” WAS ALL SHARON AND John could say as the three of them sat around the
kitchen table in silence staring at the contents of the package that Holly had emptied as
evidence. Conversation between them had been minimal for the last few minutes as they all
tried to decide how they felt. It went something like this:
“But how did he manage to . . .”
“But why didn't we notice him . . . well . . . God.”
“When do you think he . . . well, I suppose he was on his own sometimes . . .”
Holly and Sharon just sat looking at each other while John stuttered and stammered his way
through trying to figure out just when, where and how his terminally ill friend had managed to
carry out this idea all alone without anyone finding out.
“Wow,” he eventually repeated after coming to the conclusion that Gerry had done just that. He
had carried it out alone.
“I know,” Holly agreed. “So the two of you had absolutely no idea then?”
“Well, I don't know about you, Holly, but it's pretty clear to me that John was the mastermind
behind all of this,” Sharon said sarcastically.
“Ha-ha,” John replied dryly. “Well, he kept his word anyway, didn't he?” John looked to both of
the girls with a smile on his face.
“He sure did,” Holly said quietly.
“Are you OK, Holly? I mean, how do you feel about all this, it must be . . . weird,” asked Sharon
again, clearly concerned.
“I feel fine.” Holly was thoughtful. “Actually I think it's the best thing that could have happened
right now! It's funny, though, how amazed we all are considering how much we all went on
about this list. I mean, I should have been expecting it.”
“Yeah, but we never expected any of us to ever do it!” said John.
“But why not?” questioned Holly. “This was the whole reason for it in the first place! To be
able to help your loved ones after you go.”
“I think Gerry was the only one who took it really seriously.”
“Sharon, Gerry is the only one of us who is gone, who knows how seriously anyone else would
have taken it?”
There was a silence.
“Well, let's study this more closely then,” perked up John, suddenly starting to enjoy himself.
“There's how many envelopes?”
“Em . . . there's ten,” counted Sharon, joining in with the spirit of their new task.
“OK, so what months are there?” John asked. Holly sorted through the pile.
“There's March, which is the lamp one I already opened, April, May, June, July, August,
September, October, November and December.”
“So there's a message for every month left in the year,” Sharon said slowly, lost in thought. They
were all thinking the same thing, Gerry had planned this knowing he wouldn't live past
February. They all took a moment to ponder this, and eventually Holly looked around at her
friends with happiness. Whatever Gerry had in store for her was going to be interesting, but he
had already succeeded in making her feel almost normal again. While she was laughing with
John and Sharon as they guessed what the envelopes contained, it was as though he were still
with them.
“Hold on!” John exclaimed very seriously.
“What?”
John's blue eyes twinkled. “It's April now and you haven't opened it yet.”
“Oh, I forgot about that! Oh no, should I do it now?”
“Go on,” encouraged Sharon.
Holly picked up the envelope and slowly began to open it. There were only eight more to open
after this and she wanted to treasure every second before it became another memory. She pulled
out the little card.
A Disco Diva must always look her best. Go shopping for an outfit, as you'll need it for next
month!
PS, I love you . . .
“Ooooh,” John and Sharon sang with excitement, “he's getting cryptic!”
Seven
HOLLY LAY ON HER BED like a demented woman, switching the lamp on and off with a
smile on her face. She and Sharon had gone shopping in Bed Knobs and Broomsticks in
Malahide, and both girls had eventually agreed on the beautifully carved wooden stand and the
cream shade, which matched the cream and wooden furnishings of the master bedroom (of
course they had chosen the most ridiculously expensive one, it would have been wrong to spoil
tradition). And although Gerry hadn't physically been there with her as she bought it, she felt
that they had made the purchase together.
She had drawn the curtains of her bedroom in order to test her new merchandise. The bedside
lamp had a softening effect on the room, making it appear warmer. How easily this could have
ended their nightly arguments, but perhaps neither of them wanted to end them. It had become a
routine, something familiar that made them feel closer. How she would give anything to have
one of those little arguments now. And she would gladly get out of her cozy bed for him, she
would gladly walk on the cold floor for him, and she would gladly bruise herself on the bedpost
while fumbling in the dark for the bed. But that time was gone.
The sound of Gloria Gaynor's “I Will Survive” snapped her back to the present as she realized
her mobile phone was ringing.
“Hello?”
“G'day, mate, I'm hooooome!” shrieked a familiar voice.
“Oh my God, Ciara! I didn't know you were coming home!”
“Well, neither did I actually, but I ran out of money and decided to surprise you all!”
“Wow, I bet Mum and Dad were surprised all right.”
“Well, Dad did drop the towel with fright when he stepped out of the shower.”
Holly covered her face with her hand. “Oh Ciara, you didn't!” she warned.
“No hugs for Daddy when I saw him!” Ciara laughed.
“Oh yuck, yuck, yuck. Change the subject, I'm having visions,” Holly said.
“OK, well, I was calling to tell you that I was home, obviously, and that Mum's organizing
dinner tonight to celebrate.”
“Celebrate what?”
“Me being alive.”
“Oh, OK. I thought you might have an announcement or something.”
“That I'm alive.”
“O . . . K. So who's going?”
“The whole family.”
“Did I mention that I'm going to the dentist to have all my teeth pulled out? Sorry, I can't make
it.”
“I know, I know, I said the same thing to Mum, but we haven't all been together for ages. Sure
when's the last time you've even seen Richard and Meredith?”
“Oh, good ol' Dick, well, he was in flying form at the funeral. Had lots of wise and comforting
things to say to me like, 'Did you not consider donating his brain to medical science?' Yes, he's
such a fantastic brother all right.”
“Oh gosh, Holly, I'm sorry. I forgot about the funeral.” Her sister's voice changed. “I'm sorry I
couldn't make it.”
“Ciara, don't be silly, we both decided it was best you stay,” Holly said briskly. “It's far too
expensive to be flying back and forth from Australia, so let's not bring it back up, OK?”
“OK.”
Holly quickly changed the subject. “So when you say the whole family do you mean. . . ?”
“Yes, Richard and Meredith are bringing our adorable little niece and nephew. And Jack and
Abbey are coming you'll be pleased to know, Declan will be there in body but probably not in
mind, Mum, Dad and me of course, and you will be there.”
Holly groaned. As much as Holly moaned about her family she had a great relationship with her
brother Jack. He was only two years older than her so they had always been close when growing
up, and he had always been very protective of her. Their mother had called them her “two little
elves” because they were always getting up to mischief around the house (this mischief was
usually aimed at their eldest brother, Richard). Jack was similar to Holly in both looks and
personality, and she considered him to be the most normal of her siblings. It also helped that she
got along with his partner of seven years, Abbey, and when Gerry was alive the four of them
often met up for dinner and drinks. When Gerry was alive . . . God, that didn't sound right.
Ciara was a whole different kettle of fish altogether. Jack and Holly were convinced she was
from the planet Ciara, population: one. Ciara had the look of her father, long legs and dark hair.
She also had various tattoos and piercings on her body as a result of her travels around the
world. A tattoo for every country, her dad used to joke. A tattoo for every man, Holly and Jack
were convinced.
Of course this carry-on was all frowned upon by the eldest of the family, Richard (or Dick as he
was known to Jack and Holly). Richard was born with the serious illness of being an eternal old
man. His life revolved around rules and regulations and obedience. When he was younger he
had one friend and they had a fight when they were ten, so after that Holly could never
remember him bringing anyone home, having any girlfriends or ever going out to socialize. She
and Jack thought it was a wonder where he met his equally joyless wife, Meredith. Probably at
an anti-happiness convention.
It's not as though Holly had the worst family in the world, it's just that they were such a strange
mix of people. These huge clashes of personalities usually led to arguments at the most
inappropriate times, or as Holly's parents preferred to call them, “heavy discussions.” They could
get along, but that was with everyone really trying and being on their best behavior.
Holly and Jack often met up for lunch or for drinks just to catch up on each other's lives; they
had an interest in each other. She enjoyed his company and considered him to be not only a
brother but a real friend. Lately they hadn't seen much of each other. Jack understood Holly well
and knew when she needed her space.
The only time Holly caught up on her younger brother Declan's life was when she called the
house looking for her parents and he would answer. Declan wasn't a great conversationalist. He
was a twenty-two-year-old “boy” who didn't quite yet feel comfortable in the company of
adults, so Holly never really knew that much about him. A nice boy, he just had his head up in
the clouds a bit.
Ciara, her twenty-four-year-old little sister, had been away for the entire year and Holly had
missed her. They were never the kind of sisters to swap clothes and giggle about boys, their
tastes differed so much. But as the only two girls in a family of brothers, they formed a bond.
Ciara was closer to Declan; both of them dreamers. Jack and Holly had always been inseparable
as children and friends as adults. That left Richard. He was out on his own in the family, but
Holly suspected he liked that feeling of being separated from those in his family he couldn't
quite understand. Holly was dreading his lectures on all-things-boring, his insensitive
questioning of her life and just the whole feeling of being frustrated by comment after comment
at the dinner table. But it was a welcome-home dinner for Ciara and Jack would be there; Holly
could count on him.
So was Holly looking forward to tonight? Absolutely not.
Holly reluctantly knocked on the door to her family home and immediately heard the pounding
of tiny feet flying toward the door followed by a voice that should not belong to a child.
“Mummy! Daddy! It's Aunty Holly, it's Aunty Holly!”
It was Nephew Timothy, Nephew Timothy.
His happiness was suddenly crushed by a stern voice. (Although it was unusual for her nephew
to be happy about Holly's arrival; things must be especially boring in there.) “Timothy! What did
I tell you about running in the house! You could fall and hurt yourself, now go stand in the
corner and think about what I said. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Mummy.”
“Ah come on, Meredith, will he hurt himself on the carpet or on the comfy padded couch?”
Holly laughed to herself; Ciara was definitely home. Just as Holly was contemplating escape, the
door swung open and there stood Meredith. She looked even more sour-faced and unwelcoming
than usual.
“Holly.” She nodded her head in acknowledgment.
“Meredith,” Holly imitated.
Once in the living room Holly looked around for Jack, but to her disappointment he was
nowhere to be seen. Richard stood in front of the fireplace dressed in a surprisingly colorful
sweater; perhaps he was letting his hair down tonight. He stood with his hands in his pockets
rocking back and forth from his heels to the balls of his toes like a man ready to give a lecture.
His lecture was being aimed at their poor father, Frank, who sat uncomfortably in his favorite
armchair looking like a chastised schoolboy. Richard was so lost in his story he didn't see Holly
enter the room. Holly blew her poor father a kiss from across the room, not wanting to be
brought into their conversation. Her father smiled at her and pretended to catch her kiss.
Declan was slumped on the couch wearing his ripped jeans and South Park T-shirt, puffing
furiously on a cigarette while Meredith invaded his space and warned him of the dangers of
smoking. “Really? I didn't know that,” he said, sounding worryingly interested while stabbing
out his cigarette. Meredith's face looked satisfied until Declan winked at Holly, reached for the
box again and immediately lit up another one. “Tell me some more, please, I'm just dying to
know.” Meredith stared back at him in disgust.
Ciara was hiding behind the couch throwing pieces of popcorn at the back of poor Timothy's
head. He stood facing the wall in the corner of the room and was too afraid to turn around.
Abbey was pinned to the floor and being bossed around by little five-year-old Emily and an
evil-looking doll. She caught Holly's eye and mouthed “Help” to her.
“Hi Ciara.” Holly approached her sister, who jumped up and gave her a big hug, squeezing
Holly a bit tighter than usual. “Nice hair.”
“You like it?”
“Yeah, pink is really your color.”
Ciara looked satisfied. “That's what I tried to tell them,” she said, squinting her eyes and staring
at Richard and Meredith. “So how's my big sis?” Ciara asked softly, rubbing Holly's arm
affectionately.
“Oh, you know,” Holly smiled weakly, “I'm hanging in there.”
“Jack is in the kitchen helping your mum with the dinner if you're looking for him, Holly,”
Abbey announced, widening her eyes and mouthing “Help me” again.
Holly raised her eyebrows at Abbey. “Really? Well isn't he great helping out Mum?”
“Oh, Holly, didn't you know how much Jack just loves cooking, he just loves it. Can't get
enough of it,” she said sarcastically.
Holly's dad chuckled to himself, which stopped Richard in his tracks. “What's so funny,
Father?”
Frank shifted in his seat nervously. “I just find it remarkable that all this happens in just one tiny
little test tube.”
Richard let out a disapproving sigh at his father's stupidity. “Yes, but you have to understand
these are so minuscule, Father, it's rather fascinating. The organisms combine with the . . .” And
away he went while his father settled back down in his chair and tried to avoid eye contact with
Holly.
Holly tiptoed quietly into the kitchen, where she found her brother at the table with his feet up
on a chair munching on some food. “Ah, here he is, the naked chef himself.”
Jack smiled and stood up from his chair. “There's my favorite sister.” He scrunched up his nose.
“I see you got roped into coming to this thing as well.” He walked toward her and held out his
arms to offer her one of his big bear hugs. “How are you?” he said quietly into her ear.
“I'm OK, thanks.” Holly smiled sadly and kissed him on the cheek before turning to her mother.
“Darling Mother, I am here to offer my services at this extremely stressful and busy time of your
life,” Holly said, planting a kiss on her mother's flushed cheek.
“Oh, aren't I just the luckiest woman in the world having such caring children like you,”
Elizabeth said sarcastically. “Tell you what; you can just drain the water from the potatoes
there.”
“Mum, tell us about the time when you were a little girl during the famine and the spuds were
gone,” Jack said, putting on an exaggerated Irish accent.
Elizabeth hit him across the head playfully with the tea towel. “Ah, sure 'tis years before my
time, son.”
“Sure 'tis true,” said Jack.
“No, you t'aren't at all,” joined in Holly.
They both stopped and stared at her. “Since when is there such a word as t'aren't?” laughed her
mum.
“Ah, shut up the both of you.” Holly joined her brother at the table.
“I hope you two won't be getting up to any mischief tonight. I would like this to be an
argument-free zone for a change.”
“Mother, I am shocked the thought even crossed your mind.” Jack winked across to Holly.
“All right,” she said, not believing a word of it. “Well, sorry my babies, but there's nothing else
to be done here. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”
“Oh.” Holly was disappointed.
Elizabeth joined her children at the table and the three of them stared at the kitchen door all
thinking the same thing.
“No, Abbey,” squealed Emily loudly, “you're not doing what I tell you,” and she burst into tears.
This was shortly followed by a loud guffaw from Richard; he must have cracked a joke because
he was the only one laughing.
“But I suppose it's important that we all stay here and keep an eye on the dinner,” Elizabeth
added.
“OK everyone, dinner is being served,” announced Elizabeth, and everyone made their way to
the dining room. There was an awkward moment like at a child's birthday party while everyone
scuffled to sit beside their best friend. Eventually Holly was satisfied with her position at the
table and settled down with her mother on her left at the end of the table and Jack to her right.
Abbey sat with a scowl on her face between Jack and Richard. Jack would have some making
up to do when he got home. Declan sat opposite Holly and wedged in between him was an
empty seat where Timothy should be sitting, then Emily and Meredith, then Ciara. Holly's father
got a raw deal sitting at the head of the table between Richard and Ciara, but he was such a
calm man he was the best one for the job.
Everyone oohed and aahed as Elizabeth brought out the food and the aroma filled the room.
Holly had always loved her mother's cooking, she was never afraid to experiment with new
flavors and recipes, a trait that had not been passed down to her daughter. “Hey, poor little
Timmy must be starving out there,” Ciara exclaimed to Richard. “He must have done his time
by now.”
She knew she was skating on thin ice but she loved the danger of it, and more important, she
loved to wind Richard up. After all, she had to make up for lost time, she had been away for a
year.
“Ciara, it's important that Timothy know when he has done something wrong,” explained
Richard.
“Yeah, but couldn't you just tell him?”
The rest of the family tried hard not to laugh.
“He needs to know that his actions will lead to serious consequences so he will not repeat
them.”
“Ah well,” she said, raising her voice a few octaves, “he's missing all this yummy food.
Mmm-mmm-mmm,” she added, licking her lips.
“Stop it, Ciara,” Elizabeth snapped.
“Or you'll have to stand in the corner,” Jack added sternly.
The table erupted with laughter, bar Meredith and Richard of course.
“So Ciara, tell us about your adventures in Australia,” Frank moved swiftly on.
Ciara's eyes lit up. “Oh, I had the most amazing time, Dad, I would definitely recommend going
there to anyone.”
“Awful long flight, though,” Richard said.
“Yeah it is, but it's so worth it.”
“Did you get any more tattoos?” Holly asked.
“Yeah, look.” With that, Ciara stood up at the table and pulled down her trousers, revealing a
butterfly on her behind.
Mum, Dad, Richard and Meredith protested in outrage while the others sat in convulsions of
laughter. This carried on for a long time. Finally, when Ciara had apologized and Meredith had
removed her hands from Emily's eyes, the table settled down.
“They are revolting things,” Richard said in disgust.
“I think butterflies are pretty, Daddy,” said Emily with big innocent eyes.
“Yes, some butterflies are pretty, Emily, but I'm talking about tattoos. They can give you all
sorts of diseases and problems.” Emily's smile faded.
“Hey, I didn't exactly get this done in a dodgy place sharing needles with drug dealers, you
know. The place was perfectly clean.”
“Well, that's an oxymoron if ever I heard one,” Meredith said with disgust.
“Been in one recently, Meredith?” Ciara asked a bit too forcefully.
“Well, em . . . n-n-n-no,” she stuttered, “I have never been in one, thank you very much, but I
am sure they are.” Then she turned to Emily. “They are dirty, horrible places, Emily, where only
dangerous people go.”
“Is Aunt Ciara dangerous, Mummy?”
“Only to five-year-old little girls with red hair,” Ciara said, stuffing her face.
Emily froze.
“Richard dear, do you think that Timmy might want to come in now for some food?” Elizabeth
asked politely.
“It's Timothy,” Meredith interrupted.
“Yes, Mother, I think that would be OK.”
A very sorry little Timothy walked slowly into the room with his head down and took his place
silently beside Declan. Holly's heart leapt out to him. How cruel to treat a child like that, how
cruel to stop him from being a child . . . her sympathetic thoughts diminished immediately as she
felt his little foot kick her shin underneath the table. They should have left him out there.
“So Ciara, come on, give us the gossip, do anything wild and wonderful out there?” Holly
pushed for more information.
“Oh yeah, I did a bungee jump actually, well, I did a few. I have the photo here.” She reached
into her back pocket and everyone looked away just in case she was planning to reveal any more
bits of her anatomy. Thankfully she only took out her wallet; she passed the photo around the
table and continued explaining.
“The first one I did was off a bridge and my head hit the water when I fell . . .”
“Oh Ciara, that sounds dangerous,” her mother said with her hands across her face.
“Oh no, it wasn't dangerous at all,” she reassured her.
The photograph was passed to Holly and she and Jack burst out laughing. Ciara dangled upside
down from a rope with her face contorted in the middle of a scream from pure terror. Her hair (it
was blue at that time) was shooting out in all directions as though she had been electrocuted.
“Attractive photo, Ciara. Mum, you must get that framed for over the fireplace,” Holly joked.
“Yeah!” Ciara's eyes lit up as the thought hit her. “That would be a cool idea.”
“Sure darling, I'll just take down the one of you making your Holy Communion and replace it
with that,” Elizabeth said sarcastically.
“Well, I don't know which one would be scarier,” said Declan.
“Holly, what are you doing for your birthday?” asked Abbey, leaning across toward her. She was
clearly dying to get out of the conversation she was having with Richard.
“Oh, that's right!” shouted Ciara. “You're gonna be thirty in a few weeks!”
“I'm not doing anything big at all,” she warned everyone. “I don't want any surprise party or
anything, please.”
“Oh, you have to. . . ,” said Ciara.
“No, she doesn't have to if she doesn't want to,” her father interrupted, and he winked
supportively at Holly.
“Thank you, Dad. I'm just going to have a girly night out clubbing or something. Nothing mad,
nothing wild.”
Richard tutted as the photograph reached him and passed it on to his father, who chuckled to
himself over the sight of Ciara.
“Yes, I agree with you, Holly,” said Richard, “those birthday celebrations are always a bit
embarrassing. Grown adults acting like children, doing 'Rock the boat' on the floor and drinking
far too much. You're quite right.”
“Well, I actually quite enjoy those parties, Richard,” Holly shot back, “but I just don't feel in the
celebratory mood this year, that's all.”
There was silence for a moment before Ciara piped up, “A girly night it is then.”
“Can I tag along with the camera?” asked Declan.
“For what?”
“Just for some footage of clubs and stuff for college.”
“Well, if it'll help . . . but as long as you know I won't be going to all the trendy places that you
like.”
“No, I don't mind where you g . . . OW!” he shouted and stared menacingly at Timothy.
Timmy stuck his tongue out at him and the conversation continued on. After the main course
had finished, Ciara disappeared out of the room and arrived with a bulging bag in her hand and
announced, “Presents!!”
Timmy and Emily cheered. Holly hoped that Ciara had remembered to get them something.
Her father received a colorfully painted boomerang that he pretended to throw down at his wife,
Richard was given a T-shirt with the map of Australia on it, which he immediately began to
teach to Timmy and Emily at the table, Meredith quite comically wasn't given anything, Jack
and Declan were given T-shirts with perverted pictures and a caption saying “I've been to the
bush,” Holly's mum received a collection of old Aboriginal recipes and Holly was touched by the
dream catcher made from brightly colored feathers and sticks. “So all your dreams come true,”
Ciara had whispered in her ear before kissing her on the cheek.
Thankfully Ciara had bought sweets for Timmy and Emily, but they looked strangely like the
sweets you could buy from the local shop. These were briskly taken away by Richard and
Meredith, who claimed they would rot their teeth.
“Well, give them back then so I can rot my own,” Ciara demanded.
Timmy and Emily looked around sadly at everyone's presents and were immediately chastised by
Richard for not concentrating on the map of Australia. Timmy made a face at Holly and a warm
feeling returned to her heart. As long as the kids kept on acting like they deserved their harsh
treatment, it made it easier for Holly to deal with. In fact, she may even have bordered on
enjoying watching them being given out to.
“Right, we better hit the road, Richard, or the children will fall asleep at the table,” announced
Meredith. The children, though, were wide awake and kicking Holly and Declan repeatedly
under the table.
“Well, before everybody goes disappearing,” Holly's father announced loudly over the chatter.
The table grew silent. “I would like to propose a toast to our beautiful daughter Ciara, as this is
her welcome-home dinner.” He smiled at his daughter and Ciara lapped up all the attention.
“We missed you, love, and we're glad you're home safely,” Frank finished. He lifted his glass
into the air, “To Ciara!”
“To Ciara!” everyone repeated, and they finished off what was in their glasses.
As soon as the door closed behind Richard and Meredith everyone began to leave one by one.
Holly stepped into the chilly air and walked to her car alone. Her mum and dad stood at the door
waving her off but she still felt lonely. Usually she left dinner parties with Gerry, and if not with
him then she was returning home to him. But not tonight or the next night or the night after
that.
Eight
HOLLY STOOD IN FRONT OF the full-length mirror and inspected herself. She had carried
out Gerry's orders and had purchased a new outfit. What for, she didn't know, but several times
every day she had to drag herself away from opening the envelope for May. There were only two
days left until she could, and the anticipation left her no room to think of anything else.
She had settled on wearing an all-black outfit to suit her current mood. Black fitted trousers
slimmed her legs and were tailored perfectly to sit over her black boots. A black corset that
made her look like she had a bigger chest finished the outfit off perfectly. Leo had done a
wonderful job on her hair, tying it up and allowing strands to fall in loose waves around her
shoulders. Holly ran her fingers through her hair and smiled at the memory of her time at the
hairdresser's. She had arrived at the salon with her face flushed and out of breath. “Oh, I'm so
sorry, Leo, I got caught on the phone and didn't realize the time.”
“Don't worry, love, whenever you make an appointment I have the staff trained to pencil it in
for half an hour later. Colin!” he yelled, clicking his fingers in the air. Colin dropped everything
and ran.
“God, are you taking horse tranquilizers or something? The length of your hair already, and I
just cut it a few weeks ago.”
He pumped vigorously on the chair, raising Holly higher. “Anything special tonight?” he asked,
attacking the chair.
“The big three-oh,” she said, biting her lip.
“What's that, your local bus route?”
“No! I'm the big three-oh!”
“Of course I knew that, love, Colin!” he yelled again, snapping his fingers in the air.
With that, Colin appeared from the staff room behind Holly with a cake in his hand, followed by
a row of hairdressers joining Leo in a chorus of “Happy Birthday.” Holly was dumbfounded.
“Leo!” was all she could say. She battled the tears that were welling in her eyes and failed
miserably. By this stage the entire salon had joined in and Holly was just overwhelmed by their
show of love. When it was over everyone applauded and normal business resumed.
Holly couldn't speak.
“Christ Almighty, Holly, one week you're in here laughing so hard you practically fall off your
chair and the next visit you're crying!”
“Oh, but that was just so special, Leo, thank you,” she said, drying her eyes and giving him a
huge hug and a kiss.
“Well, I had to get you back after you mortified me,” he said, shrugging her off, uncomfortable
with the sentimentality.
Holly laughed, remembering Leo's surprise fiftieth birthday party. The theme had been “feathers
and lace” as she recalled. Holly had worn a beautiful tight-fitting lace dress and Gerry, who was
always game for a laugh, had worn a pink feather boa to match his pink shirt and tie. Leo
claimed to have been excruciatingly embarrassed, but everyone knew he was secretly delighted
with all the attention. The next day, Leo had rung every guest who had attended the party and
left a threatening message on their machine. Holly had been terrified to make an appointment
with Leo for weeks after that in case he butchered her. Word had it that business was very slow
for Leo that week.
“Well, you enjoyed the stripper that night anyway,” Holly teased.
“Enjoyed? I went out with him for a month after that. The bastard.”
A slice of cake arrived in front of each customer and everyone turned to thank her.
“Don't know why they're thanking you,” Leo muttered under his breath, “I'm the one who
bloody bought it.”
“Don't worry, Leo, I'll make sure your tip covers the cost.”
“Are you mad? Your tip wouldn't cover the cost of my bus fare home.”
“Leo, you live next door.”
“Exactly!”
Holly pouted her lip and pretended to sulk. Leo laughed. “Thirty years old and you're still acting
like a baby. Where are you off to tonight?”
“Oh, nowhere mad. I just want a low-key, nice quiet night out with the girls.”
“That's what I said at my fiftieth. Who's going?”
“Sharon, Ciara, Abbey and Denise, haven't seen her for ages.”
“Ciara home?”
“Yeah, her and her pink hair.”
“Merciful hour! She'll stay away from me if she knows what's good for her. Right missus, you
look fab, you'll be the belle of the ball–have fun!”
Holly stopped daydreaming and returned her gaze to her reflection in her bedroom mirror. She
didn't feel thirty. But then again, what was being thirty supposed to feel like? When she was
younger, thirty seemed so far away, she thought that a woman of that age would be so wise and
knowledgeable, so settled in her life with a husband and children and a career. She had none of
those things. She still felt as clueless as she had felt when she was twenty, only with a few more
gray hairs and crow's-feet around her eyes. She sat down on the edge of the bed and continued
to stare at herself. There was nothing about being thirty worth celebrating.
The doorbell rang and Holly could hear the excited chatter and giggles of the girls outside. She
tried to perk herself up, took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face.
“Happy Birthday!” they all yelled in unison.
She stared back at their happy faces and was immediately cheered up by their enthusiasm. She
ushered them into the living room and waved hello to the camera being held by Declan.
“No, Holly, you're supposed to ignore him!” hissed Denise, and she dragged Holly by the arm
onto the couch, where they all surrounded her and immediately started thrusting presents in her
face.
“Open mine first!” squealed Ciara, knocking Sharon out of the way so hard that she toppled off
the couch. Sharon froze in horror, unsure of how to react, then she burst into giggles.
“OK, calm down, everyone,” said the voice of reason (Abbey), struggling to help up a hysterical
Sharon. “I think we should pop open the bubbly first and then open the pressies.”
“OK, but as long as she opens mine first,” pouted Ciara.
“Ciara, I promise to open yours first.” Holly spoke to her as though she were addressing a child.
Abbey raced into the kitchen and returned with a tray full of champagne flutes. “Anyone for
champers, sweetie darlings?”
The flutes were a wedding gift and one of the glasses had Gerry and Holly's names inscribed on
it, which Abbey had tactfully removed from the set. “OK, Holly, you can do the honors,” Abbey
said, handing her the bottle.
Everyone ran for cover and ducked as Holly began to remove the cork. “Hey, I'm not that bad,
everyone!”
“Yeah, she's an old pro at this by now,” said Sharon, appearing from behind the couch with a
cushion on her head.
The girls all cheered as they heard the pop and crawled out from their hiding places. “The sound
of heaven,” Denise said dramatically, holding her hand up to her heart.
“OK, now open my present!” Ciara screamed again.
“Ciara!” they all shouted. “After the toast,” added Sharon.
Everyone held up their glasses.
“OK, here's to my bestest friend in the whole world who has had such a difficult year, but all
throughout, she's been the bravest and the strongest person I've ever met. She's an inspiration to
us all. Here's to her finding happiness for the next thirty years of her life! To Holly!”
“To Holly,” they all chorused. Everyone's eyes were sparkling with tears as they took a sip of
their drink, except of course for Ciara, who had knocked back her glass of champagne and was
scrambling to give her present to Holly first.
“OK, first you have to wear this tiara because you are our princess for the night, and second
here's my present from me to you!”
The girls helped Holly put on the sparkling tiara that luckily went perfectly with her black
glittery corset, and at that moment, surrounded by her friends, she felt like a princess.
Holly carefully removed the tape from the neatly wrapped parcel.
“Oh, just rip it open!” said Abbey to everyone's surprise.
Holly looked at the box inside, confused. “What is it?”
“Read it!” Ciara said excitedly.
Holly began to read aloud from the box, “It's a battery-operated . . . oh my God! Ciara! You
naughty girl!” Holly and the girls laughed hysterically.
“Well, I'll definitely need this,” Holly laughed, holding the box up to the camera.
Declan looked like he was about to throw up.
“Do you like it?” Ciara asked, searching for approval. “I wanted to give it to you at dinner that
time but I didn't think it would be appropriate . . .”
“Gosh! Well, I'm glad you saved it till now!” Holly laughed, giving her sister a hug.
“OK, me next,” Abbey said, putting her parcel on Holly's lap. “It's from me and Jack, so don't
expect anything like Ciara's!”
“Well, I would worry if Jack gave me something like that,” she said, opening Abbey's present.
“Oh, Abbey, it's beautiful!” Holly said, holding up the sterling silver–covered photo album.
“For your new memories,” Abbey said softly.
“Oh, it's perfect,” she said, wrapping her arms around Abbey and squeezing her. “Thank you.”
“OK, well, mine is less sentimental, but as a fellow female I'm sure you will appreciate it,” said
Denise, handing her an envelope.
“Oh brilliant! I've always wanted to go here,” Holly exclaimed as she opened it. “A weekend of
pampering in Haven's health and beauty clinic!”
“God, you sound like you're on Blind Date,” teased Sharon.
“So let us know when you want to make an appointment, it's valid for a year, and the rest of us
can book the same time. Make a holiday out of it!”
“Oh, that's a great idea, Denise, thank you!”
“OK, last but not least!” Holly winked at Sharon. Sharon fidgeted with her hands nervously
while she watched Holly's face.
It was a large silver photo frame with a photograph of Sharon, Denise and Holly at the
Christmas Ball two years ago. “Oh, I'm wearing my 'spensive white dress!” sobbed Holly
playfully.
“Before it was ruined,” pointed out Sharon.
“God, I don't even remember that being taken!”
“I don't even remember being there,” mumbled Denise.
Holly continued to stare at the photo sadly while she walked over to the fireplace.
That had been the last ball that she and Gerry had been to, as he had been too ill to attend last
year's.
“Well, this will take pride of place,” Holly announced, walking over to the mantelpiece and
placing it beside her wedding photo.
“OK, girls, let's get some serious drinking done!” screamed Ciara, and everyone dived to safety,
as another bottle of champagne was popped open.
Two bottles of champagne and several bottles of red wine later, the girls stumbled out of the
house and piled into a taxi. Through the giggling and shouting someone managed to explain to
the taxi driver where they were going. Holly insisted on sitting in the passenger seat of the
taxicab and having a heart-to-heart with John the driver, who probably wanted to kill her by the
time they reached town.
“Bye John!” they all shouted to their new best friend before falling out onto the curb in Dublin
city, where they watched him drive off at a high speed. They had decided (while drinking their
third bottle of wine) to chance their luck in Dublin's most stylish club, Boudoir. The club was
reserved for the rich and famous only, and it was a well-known fact that if you weren't rich and
famous, you then had to have a member's card to be granted access. Denise walked up to the
door coolly waving her video store membership card in the bouncers' faces. Believe it or not,
they stopped her.
The only famous faces they saw overtaking them to get into the club, as they fought with the
bouncers to get in, were a few newsreaders from the national TV station who Denise smiled at,
and she hilariously kept repeating “good evening” very seriously to their faces. Unfortunately
after that, Holly remembered no more.
Holly awoke with her head pounding. Her mouth was as dry as Gandhi's sandal and her vision
was impaired. She leaned up on one elbow and tried to open her eyes, which were somehow
glued together. She squinted around the room. It was bright, very bright, and the room seemed
to be spinning. Something very odd was going on. Holly caught sight of herself in the mirror
ahead and startled herself. Had she been in an accident last night? She ran out of energy and
collapsed flat on her back again. Suddenly the house alarm began wailing and she lifted her head
slightly from the pillow and opened one eye. Oh, take whatever you want, she thought, just as
long as you bring me a glass of water before you go. After a while she realized it wasn't the
alarm but the phone ringing beside her bed.
“Hello?” she croaked.
“Oh good, I'm not the only one,” said a desperately ill voice on the other end.
“Who are you?” croaked Holly again.
“My name is Sharon, I think,” came the reply, “although don't ask me who Sharon is because I
don't know. The man beside me in bed seems to think I know him.” Holly heard John laughing
loudly in the background.
“Sharon, what happened last night? Please enlighten me.”
“Alcohol happened last night,” said Sharon drowsily, “lots and lots of alcohol.”
“Any other information?”
“Nope.”
“Know what time is it?”
“Two o'clock.”
“Why are you ringing me at this hour of the morning?”
“It's the afternoon, Holly.”
“Oh. How did that happen?”
“Gravity or something. I was out that day in school.”
“Oh God, I think I'm dying.”
“Me too.”
“I think I'll just go back to sleep, maybe when I wake up, the ground will have stopped
moving.”
“Good idea, oh and Holly, welcome to the thirties club.”
Holly groaned, “I have not started as I mean to go on. From now on I will be a sensible, mature
thirty-year-old woman.”
“Yeah, that's what I said too. Good night.”
“ 'Night.” Seconds later Holly was asleep. She awoke at various stages during the day to answer
the phone, conversations that all seemed part of her dreams. And she made many trips to the
kitchen to rehydrate herself.
Eventually at nine o'clock that night Holly succumbed to her stomach's screaming demands for
food. As usual there was nothing in the fridge, so she decided to treat herself to a Chinese
take-away. She sat snuggled up on the couch in her pajamas watching the very best of Saturday
night TV while stuffing her face. After the trauma of being without Gerry for her birthday the
previous day, Holly was surprised to notice that she felt very content with herself. It was the
first time since Gerry had died that she was at ease with her own company. There was a slight
chance she could make it without him.
Later that night Jack called her on her mobile. “Hey sis, what are you doing?”
“Watching TV, having Chinese,” she said.
“Well, you sound in good form. Unlike my poor girlfriend who's suffering here beside me.”
“I'm never going out with you again, Holly,” she heard Abbey scream weakly in the background.
“You and your friends perverted her mind,” he joked.
“Don't blame me, she was doing just fine all by herself as far as I remember.”
“She says she can't remember anything.”
“Neither can I. Maybe it's something that happens as soon as you hit thirty, I was never like this
before.”
“Or maybe it's just an evil plan you all hatched so you wouldn't have to tell us what you got up
to.”
“I wish it was . . . oh, thanks for the pressie by the way, it's beautiful.”
“Glad you like it. It took me ages to find the right one.”
“Liar.”
He laughed.
“Anyway, I was ringing you to ask if you're going to Declan's gig tomorrow night.”
“Where is it?”
“Hogan's pub.”
“No way. There is no way I'm ever setting foot in a pub again, especially to listen to some loud
rock band with screeching guitars and noisy drums,” Holly told him.
“Oh, it's the old 'I'm never drinking again' excuse, is it? Well, don't drink then. Please come,
Holly. Declan's really excited about it and no one else will come.”
“Ha! So I'm the last resort, am I? Nice to know you think so highly of me.”
“No you're not. Declan would love to see you there and we hardly got a chance to talk at dinner,
we haven't gone out for ages,” he pleaded.
“Well, we're hardly going to have a heart-to-heart with the Orgasmic Fish banging out their
tunes,” she said sarcastically.
“Well, they're actually called Black Strawberries now, which has a nice sweet ring to it I think,”
he laughed.
Holly held her head in her hands and groaned, “Oh, please don't make me go, Jack.”
“You're going.”
“OK, but I'm not staying for the whole thing.”
“Well, we can discuss that when we get there. Declan will be chuffed when I tell him, the
family never usually goes to these things.”
“OK then, about eightish?”
“Perfect.”
Holly hung up and sat stuck to the couch for another few hours. She felt so stuffed, she couldn't
move. Maybe that Chinese wasn't such a good idea after all.
Nine
HOLLY ARRIVED AT HOGAN'S PUB feeling a lot fresher than the day before, but her
reactions were still a little slower than usual. Her hangovers seemed to be gradually getting
worse as she got older, and yesterday took the gold medal for the hangover of all hangovers. She
had gone for a long walk along the coast from Malahide to Portmarnock earlier that day and the
crisp fresh breeze helped to clear her fuzzy head. She had called into her parents' for Sunday
dinner, where they presented her with a beautiful Waterford crystal vase for her birthday. It had
been a wonderful, relaxing day with her parents and she almost had to drag herself off the
comfortable couch to go to Hogan's.
Hogan's was a popular three-story club situated in the center of town, and even on a Sunday the
place was jammed. The first floor was a trendy nightclub that played all the latest music from
the charts. It was where the young, beautiful people went to show off their latest fashions. The
ground floor was a traditional Irish pub for the older crowd (it usually contained old men
perched up on their bar stools and stooped over their pints contemplating life). A few nights a
week there was a traditional Irish music band that played all the old favorites, which was
popular with the young and old. The basement was dark and dingy and it was where bands
usually played, the clientele was purely students and Holly seemed to be the oldest person in
there. The bar consisted of a tiny counter in the corner of the long hall, and it was surrounded by
a huge crowd of young students dressed in scruffy jeans and ripped T-shirts, pushing one
another violently in order to be served. The bar staff also looked like they should be in school
and were rushing around at a hundred miles per hour with sweat dripping from their faces.
The basement was stuffy with no ventilation or air-conditioning at all, and Holly was finding it
difficult to breathe in the smoky air. Practically everyone around her seemed to be smoking a
cigarette, and her eyes were already stinging her. Holly dreaded to think what it might be like in
an hour's time, although she seemed to be the only one who was bothered by it. She waved at
Declan to let him know she was there but decided not to make her way over, as he was
surrounded by a crowd of girls. She wouldn't want to cramp his style. Holly had missed out on
the whole student scene when she was younger. She had decided not to go to college after
school and instead began working as a secretary, where she moved from job to job every few
months, ending with the awful job she left so she could spend time with Gerry while he was
sick. She doubted she would have stayed at it that much longer anyway. Gerry had studied
marketing at Dublin City University but he never socialized much with his college friends;
instead he chose to go out with Holly, Sharon and John, Denise and whoever she was with at
the time. Looking around at everyone, Holly didn't feel like she had missed anything special.
Finally Declan managed to tear himself away from his female fans and make his way over to
Holly.
“Well hello, Mr. Popular, I feel privileged you chose me to speak to next.” All the girls stared
Holly up and down and wondered what the hell Declan saw in this older woman.
Declan laughed and rubbed his hands together cheekily. “I know! This band business is great,
looks like I'll be getting a bit of action tonight,” he said cockily.
“As your sister it's always a pleasure to be informed of that,” Holly replied sarcastically. She
found it impossible to maintain a conversation with Declan, as he refused eye contact with her
and instead scoured the crowds.
“OK, Declan, just go, why don't you, and flirt with these beauties instead of being stuck here
with your old sister.”
“Oh no, it's not that,” he said defensively. “It's just that we were told there might be a record
company guy coming to see us play tonight.”
“Oh cool!” Holly's eyes widened with excitement for her brother. This obviously meant a lot to
him, and she felt guilty for never taking an interest in it before. She looked around and tried to
spot someone who looked like a record company guy. What would he look like? It's not as if he
would be sitting in the corner with a notebook and pen scribbling furiously. Finally her eyes fell
upon a man who seemed much older than the rest of the crowd, more her own age. He was
dressed in a black leather jacket, black slacks and a black T-shirt and stood with his hands on his
hips staring at the stage. Yes, he was definitely a record company guy, as he had stubble all
around his jaw and looked like he hadn't been to bed for days. He must have stayed up all night
every night this week attending concerts and gigs and probably slept all day. He probably
smelled bad as well. Or else he was just a weirdo who liked to go to student nights and ogle all
the young girls. Also a possibility.
“Over there, Deco!” Holly raised her voice over the noise and pointed at the man. Declan
looked excited and his eyes followed to where her finger pointed. His smile faded as he
obviously recognized the man. “No, it's just Danny!” he yelled, and he wolf-whistled to grab his
attention.
Danny twirled around trying to find his caller and nodded his head in recognition and made his
way over. “Hey man,” Declan said, shaking his hand.
“Hi Declan, how are you set?” The man looked stressed.
“Yeah, OK,” Declan nodded unenthusiastically. Somebody must have told Declan that acting
like you didn't care was cool.
“Sound check go OK?” He pressed him for more information.
“There were a few problems but we sorted them out.”
“So everything's OK?”
“Sure.”
“Good.” His face relaxed and he turned to greet Holly. “Sorry for ignoring you there, I'm
Daniel.”
“Nice to meet you, I'm Holly.”
“Oh sorry,” Declan interrupted. “Holly, this is the owner; Daniel, this is my sister.”
“Sister? Wow, you look nothing alike.”
“Thank God,” Holly mouthed to Daniel so Declan couldn't see, and he laughed.
“Hey Deco, we're on!” yelled a blue-haired boy at him.
“See you two later,” and he ran off.
“Good luck!” yelled Holly after him. “So you're a Hogan,” she said, turning to face Daniel.
“Well, no actually, I'm a Connolly,” he smiled. “I just took over the place a few weeks ago.”
“Oh.” Holly was surprised. “I didn't know they sold the place. So are you going to change it to
Connolly's then?”
“Can't afford all the lettering on the front, it's a bit long.”
Holly laughed. “Well, everyone knows the name Hogan's at this stage; it would probably be
stupid to change it.”
Daniel nodded in agreement. “That was the main reason actually.”
Suddenly Jack appeared at the entrance and Holly waved him over. “I'm so sorry I'm late, did I
miss anything?” he said, giving her a hug and a kiss.
“Nope, he's just about to go on now. Jack, this is Daniel, the owner.”
“Nice to meet you,” Daniel said, shaking his hand.
“Are they any good?” Jack asked him, nodding his head in the direction of the stage.
“To tell you the truth, I've never even heard them play,” Daniel said worriedly.
“That was brave of you!” laughed Jack.
“I hope not too brave,” he said, turning to face the front as the boys took to the stage.
“I recognize a few faces here,” Jack said, scanning the crowd. “Most of them are under eighteen
as well.”
A young girl dressed in ripped jeans and a belly top walked slowly by Jack with an unsure smile
on her face. She placed her finger over her lip as though telling him to be quiet. Jack smiled and
nodded back.
Holly looked at Jack questioningly. “What was that about?”
“Oh, I teach her English at the school. She's only sixteen or seventeen. She's a good girl,
though.” Jack stared after her as she walked by, then added, “But she better not be late for class
tomorrow.”
Holly watched the girl down a pint with her friends, wishing she had had a teacher at school like
Jack; all the students seemed to love him. And it was easy to see why; he was a lovable kind of
person. “Well, don't tell him they're under eighteen,” Holly said under her breath, nodding her
head in the direction of Daniel.
The crowd cheered and Declan took on his moody persona as he lifted his guitar strap over his
shoulder. The music started and after that there was no chance of carrying on any kind of
conversation. The crowd began to jump up and down, and once too often Holly's foot was
stomped on. Jack just looked at her and laughed, amused at her obvious discomfort. “Can I get
you two a drink?” Daniel yelled, making a drinking motion with his hand. Jack asked for a pint
of Budweiser and Holly settled for a 7UP. They watched Daniel battle through the moshing
crowd and climb behind the bar to fix the drinks. He returned minutes later with their drinks and
a stool for Holly. They turned their attention back to the stage and watched their brother
perform. The music really wasn't Holly's type of thing, and it was so loud and noisy it was
difficult for her to tell if they were actually any good. It was a far cry from the soothing sounds
of her favorite Westlife CD, so perhaps she wasn't in the right position to judge the Black
Strawberries. The name said it all, though, really.
After four songs Holly had had enough, and she gave Jack a hug and a kiss good-bye. “Tell
Declan I stayed till the end!” she yelled. “Nice meeting you, Daniel! Thanks for the drink!” she
screamed and made her way back to civilization and cool fresh air. Her ears continued to ring all
the way home in the car. It was ten o'clock by the time she got there. Only two more hours till
May. And that meant she could open another envelope.
Holly sat at her kitchen table nervously drumming her fingers on the wood. She gulped back her
third cup of coffee and uncrossed her legs. Staying awake for just two more hours had proved
more difficult than she thought; she was obviously still tired from overindulging at her party.
She tapped her feet under the table with no particular rhythm, and then crossed her legs again. It
was 11:30 P.M. She had the envelope on the table in front of her and she could almost see it
sticking its tongue out and singing “Na-na na-na-na.”
She picked it up and ran it over in her hands. Who would know if she opened it early? Sharon
and John had probably forgotten there was even an envelope for May, and Denise was probably
conked out after the stress of her two-day hangover. She could just as easily lie if they ever
asked her if she cheated, then again they probably wouldn't even care. No one would know and
no one would care.
But that wasn't true.
Gerry would know.
Each time Holly held the envelopes in her hand she felt a connection with Gerry. The last two
times she opened them she had felt as though Gerry were sitting right beside her and laughing at
her reactions. She felt like they were playing a game together even though they were in two
different worlds. But she could feel him, and he would know if she cheated, he would know if
she disobeyed the rules of their game.
After another cup of coffee Holly was bouncing off the walls. The small hand of the clock
seemed to be auditioning for a part in Baywatch with its slow-motion run around the dial, but
eventually it struck midnight. Once again she slowly turned the envelope over and treasured
every moment of the process. Gerry sat opposite her at the table. “Go on; open it!”
She carefully tore open the seal and ran her fingers along it, knowing the last thing that had
touched it was Gerry's tongue. She slid the card out of its pouch and opened it.
Go on, Disco Diva! Face your fear of karaoke at Club Diva this month and you never know,
you might be rewarded . . .
PS, I love you . . .
She felt Gerry watching her and the corners of her lips lifted into a smile and she began to laugh.
Holly kept repeating “no way!” whenever she caught her breath. Finally she calmed down and
announced to the room, “Gerry! You bastard! There is absolutely no way I am going through
with this!”
Gerry laughed louder.
“This is not funny. You know how I feel about this, and I refuse to do it. Nope. No way. Not
doing it.”
“You have to do it, you know,” laughed Gerry.
“I do not have to do this!”
“Do it for me.”
“I am not doing it for you, for me or for world peace. I hate karaoke!”
“Do it for me,” he repeated.
The sound of the phone caused Holly to jump in her seat. It was Sharon. “OK, it's five past
twelve, what did it say? John and I are dying to know!”
“What makes you think I opened it?”
“Ha!” Sharon snorted. “Twenty years of friendship qualifies me as being an expert on you; now
come on, tell us what it says.”
“I'm not doing it,” Holly stated bluntly.
“What? You're not telling us?”
“No, I'm not doing what he wants me to do.”
“Why, what is it?”
“Oh, just Gerry's pathetic attempt at being humorous,” she snapped at the ceiling.
“Oh, I'm intrigued now,” Sharon said, “tell us.”
“Holly, spill the beans, what is it?” John was on the downstairs phone.
“OK . . . Gerry wants me . . . to . . . singatakaraoke,” she rushed out.
“Huh? Holly, we didn't understand a word you said,” Sharon gave out.
“No, I did,” interrupted John. “I think I heard something about a karaoke. Am I right?”
“Yes,” Holly replied like a bold little girl.
“And do you have to sing?” inquired Sharon.
“Ye-eess,” she replied slowly. Maybe if she didn't say it, it wouldn't have to happen.
The other two burst out laughing so loud, Holly had to quickly remove the phone from her ear.
“Phone me back when the two of you shut up,” she said angrily, hanging up.
A few minutes later they called back.
“Yes?”
She heard Sharon snort down the phone, relapse into a fit of the giggles and then the line went
dead.
Ten minutes later she phoned back.
“Yes?”
“OK.” Sharon had an overly serious “let's get down to business” tone in her voice. “I'm sorry
about that, I'm fine now. Don't look at me, John,” Sharon said away from the phone. “I'm sorry,
Holly, but I just kept thinking about the last time you–”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she interrupted, “you don't need to bring it back up. It was the most
embarrassing day of my life, so I just happen to remember it. That's why I'm not doing it.”
“Oh, Holly, you can't let a stupid thing like that put you off!”
“Well, if that wouldn't put a person off, then they're clinically insane!”
“Holly, it was only a little fall . . .”
“Yes, thank you! I remember it just fine! Anyway I can't even sing, Sharon; I think I established
that fact marvelously the last time!”
Sharon was very quiet.
“Sharon?”
Still silence.
“Sharon, you still there?”
There was no answer.
“Sharon, are you laughing?” Holly gave out.
She heard a little squeak and the line went dead.
“What wonderfully supportive friends I have,” she muttered under her breath.
“Oh Gerry!” Holly yelled. “I thought you were supposed to be helping me, not turning me into a
nervous wreck!”
She got very little sleep that night.
Ten
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HOLLY! OR SHOULD I say happy belated birthday?” Richard
laughed nervously. Holly's mouth dropped open in shock at the sight of her older brother
standing on her doorstep. This was a rare occurrence; in fact, it may have been a first. She
opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish, completely unsure of what to say. “I brought you a
potted mini Phalaenopsis orchid,” he said, handing her a potted plant. “They have been shipped
fresh, budding, and are ready to bloom.” He sounded like an advertisement. Holly was even
more stunned as she fingered the tiny pink buds. “Gosh, Richard, orchids are my favorite!”
“Well, you have a nice big garden here anyway, nice and”–he cleared his throat–“green. Bit
overgrown, though . . .” He trailed off and began that annoying rocking thing he did with his
feet.
“Would you like to come in or are you just passing through?” Please say no, please say no.
Despite the thoughtful gift, Holly was in no mood for Richard's company.
“Well yes, I'll come in for a little while so.” He wiped his feet for a good two minutes at the
door before stepping into the house. He reminded Holly of her old math teacher at school,
dressed in a brown knitted cardigan with brown trousers that stopped just at the top of his neat
little brown loafers. He hadn't a hair on his head out of place and his fingernails were clean and
perfectly manicured. Holly could imagine him measuring them with a little ruler every night to
see that they didn't outgrow the required European standard length for fingernails, if such a
thing existed.
Richard never seemed comfortable in his own skin. He looked like he was being choked to
death by his tightly knotted (brown) tie, and he always walked as if he had a barge pole shoved
up his backside. On the rare occasions that he smiled, the smile never managed to reach his eyes.
He was the drill sergeant of his own body, screaming at and punishing himself every time he
lapsed into human mode. But he did it to himself, and the sad thing was that he thought he was
better off than everyone else for it. Holly led him into the living room and placed the ceramic
pot on top of the TV for the time being.
“No, no, Holly,” he said, wagging a finger at her as though she were a naughty child. “You
shouldn't put it there, it needs to be in a cool, draft-free location away from harsh sunlight and
heat vents.”
“Oh, of course.” Holly picked the pot back up and searched around the room in panic for a
suitable place. What had he said? A draft-free, warm location? How did he always manage to
make her feel like an incompetent little girl?
“How about that little table in the center, it should be safe there.”
Holly did as she was told and placed the pot on the table, half expecting him to say “good girl.”
Thankfully he didn't.
Richard took his favorite position at the fireplace and surveyed the room. “Your house is very
clean,” he commented.
“Thank you, I just, eh . . . cleaned it.”
He nodded as if he already knew.
“Can I get you a tea or coffee?” she asked, expecting him to say no.
“Yes, great,” he said, clapping his hands together, “tea would be splendid. Just milk, no sugar.”
Holly returned from the kitchen with two mugs of tea and placed them down on the coffee
table. She hoped the steam rising from the mugs wouldn't murder the poor plant.
“You just need to water it regularly and feed it during the months of spring.” He was still
talking about the plant. Holly nodded, knowing full well she would not do either of those
things.
“I didn't know you had green fingers, Richard,” she said, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
“Only when I'm painting with the children. At least that's what Meredith says,” he laughed,
cracking a rare joke.
“Do you do much work in your garden?” Holly was anxious to keep the conversation flowing;
as the house was so quiet, every silence was amplified.
“Oh yes, I love to work in the garden.” His eyes lit up. “Saturdays are my garden days,” he said,
smiling into his mug of tea.
Holly felt as though a complete stranger were sitting beside her. She realized she knew very
little about Richard and he equally knew very little about her. But that was the way Richard had
always liked to keep things, he had always distanced himself from the family even when they
were younger. He never shared exciting news with them or even told them how his day went.
He was just full of facts, facts and more facts. The first time the family had even heard of
Meredith was the day they both came over for dinner to announce their engagement.
Unfortunately at that stage it was too late to convince him not to marry the flame-haired
green-eyed dragon. Not that he would have listened anyway.
“So,” she announced, far too loudly for the echoing room, “anything strange or startling?” Like
why are you here?
“No, no, nothing strange, everything is ticking over as normal.” He took a sip of tea then a
while later added, “Nothing startling either, for that matter. I just thought I would pop in and
say hello while I was in the area.”
“Ah, right. It's unusual for you to be over this side of the city.” Holly laughed. “What brings you
to the dark and dangerous world of the north side?”
“Oh, you know, just a little business,” he mumbled to himself. “But my car's parked on the other
side of the River Liffey of course!”
Holly forced a smile.
“Just joking of course,” he added. “It's just outside the house . . . it will be safe, won't it?” he
asked seriously.
“I think it should be OK,” Holly said sarcastically. “There doesn't seem to be anyone suspicious
hanging around the cul-de-sac in broad daylight today.” Her humor was lost on him. “How's
Emily and Timmy, sorry, I mean Timothy?” That was an honest mistake for once.
Richard's eyes lit up. “Oh, they're good, Holly, very good. Worrying, though.” He looked away
and surveyed her living room.
“What do you mean?” Holly asked, thinking that perhaps Richard might open up to her.
“Oh, there isn't one thing in particular, Holly. Children are a worry in general.” He pushed the
rim of his glasses up his nose and looked her in the eye. “But I suppose you're glad you will
never have to worry about all this children nonsense,” he said, laughing.
There was a silence.
Holly felt like she had been kicked in the stomach.
“So have you found a job yet?” he continued on.
Holly sat frozen on her chair in shock; she couldn't believe he had the audacity to say that to her.
She was insulted and hurt and she wanted him out of her house. She really wasn't in the mood
to be polite to him anymore and she certainly couldn't be bothered explaining to his narrow little
mind that she hadn't even begun looking for a job yet as she was still grieving the death of her
husband. “Nonsense” that he wouldn't have to experience for another fifty years.
“No,” she spat out.
“So what are you doing for money? Have you signed on the dole?”
“No, Richard,” she said, trying not to lose her temper, “I haven't signed on the dole, I get
widow's allowance.”
“Ah, that's a great, handy thing, isn't it?”
“Handy is not quite the word I would use, devastatingly depressing is more like it.”
The atmosphere was tense. Suddenly he slapped his leg with his hand, signaling the end of the
conversation. “I better motor on so and get back to work,” he announced, standing up and
exaggerating a stretch as though he had been sitting down for hours.
“OK then.” Holly was relieved. “You better leave while your car is still there.” Once again her
humor was lost on him; he was peering out the window to check.
“You're right; it's still there, thank God. Anyway, nice to see you and thank you for the tea,” he
said to a spot on the wall above her head.
“You're welcome and thank you for the orchid,” Holly said through gritted teeth. He marched
down the garden path and stopped midway to look at the garden. He nodded his head
disapprovingly and shouted to her, “You really must get someone to sort this mess out,” and
drove off in his brown family car.
Holly fumed as she watched him drive off and banged the door shut. That man made her blood
boil so much she felt like knocking him out. He just hadn't a clue . . . about anything.