PS I LOVE YOU 21-30

Twenty-one
“OH CIARA, WHAT'S WRONG?” HOLLY said soothingly to her younger sister. Holly was
worried; she couldn't remember the last time she had seen her cry, in fact, she didn't know Ciara
even knew how to cry. Whatever had reduced her strong sister to tears must be something
serious.
“Nothing's wrong,” Ciara said, snapping the photo album shut and sliding it under her bed. She
seemed embarrassed to be caught crying, and she wiped her face roughly, trying to look like she
didn't care.
Downstairs on the couch, Declan peeped his head out from under the cushion. It was eerily
quiet up there; he hoped they hadn't done anything stupid to each other. He tiptoed upstairs and
listened outside the door.
“Something is wrong,” Holly said, crossing the room to join her sister on the floor. She wasn't
sure how to deal with Ciara like this. This was a complete role reversal; ever since they'd been
kids it was always Holly who had done all the crying. Ciara was supposed to be the tough one.
“I'm fine,” Ciara snapped.
“OK,” Holly said, looking around, “but if there's something on your mind that's upsetting you,
you know you can talk to me about it, don't you?”
Ciara refused to look at her and just nodded her head. Holly began to stand up to leave her sister
in peace when all of a sudden Ciara burst into tears. Holly quickly sat back down and wrapped
her arms protectively around her younger sister. Holly stroked Ciara's silky pink hair while her
sister cried quietly.
“Do you want to tell me what's wrong?” she asked softly.
Ciara gurgled some sort of reply and sat up to slide the photo album back out from under the
bed. She opened it with trembling hands and flicked a few pages.
“Him,” she said sadly, pointing to a photograph of her and some guy Holly didn't recognize.
Holly barely recognized her sister. She looked so different and so much younger. The
photograph was taken on a beautiful sunny day on a boat overlooking the Sydney Opera House.
Ciara was sitting happily on the man's knee with her arms wrapped around his neck, and he was
staring at her with a huge smile on his face. Holly couldn't get over how Ciara looked. She had
blond hair, which Holly had never seen on her sister before, and a great big smile on her face.
Her features looked much softer and she didn't look like she was going to bite someone's head
off for a change.
“Is that your boyfriend?” Holly asked carefully.
“Was,” Ciara sniffed, and a tear landed on the page.
“Is that why you came home?” she asked softly, wiping a tear from her sister's face.
Ciara nodded.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
Ciara gasped for breath. “We had a fight.”
“Did he . . .” Holly chose her words carefully. “He didn't hurt you or anything, did he?”
Ciara shook her head. “No,” she spluttered, “it was just over something really stupid and I said I
was leaving and he said he was glad . . .” She trailed off as she started sobbing again.
Holly held her in her arms and waited till Ciara was ready to talk again.
“He didn't even come to the airport to say good-bye to me.”
Holly rubbed Ciara's back soothingly as if she were a baby who had just drunk her bottle. She
hoped Ciara wouldn't throw up on her. “Has he called you since?”
“No, and I've been home for two months, Holly,” she wailed. She looked up at her older sister
with such sad eyes Holly almost felt like crying. She didn't like the sound of this guy at all for
hurting her sister. Holly smiled at her encouragingly. “Then do you think that maybe he's not the
right kind of person for you?”
Ciara started crying again. “But I love Mathew, Holly, and it was only a stupid fight. I only
booked the flight because I was angry, I didn't think he would let me go . . .” She stared for a
long time at the photograph.
Ciara's bedroom windows were wide open and Holly listened to the familiar sound of the waves
and the laughter coming from the beach. Holly and Ciara had shared this room while they grew
up, and a weird sense of comfort embraced her as she smelled the same smells and listened to
the familiar noises.
Ciara began to calm down beside her. “Sorry, Hol.”
“Hey, you don't need to be sorry at all,” she said, squeezing her hand. “You should have told me
all this when you came home instead of keeping it all inside.”
“But this is only minor compared to what's happened to you. I feel stupid even crying about it.”
She wiped her tears, angry with herself.
Holly was shocked. “Ciara, this is a big deal. Losing someone you love is always hard, no matter
if they're alive or . . .” She couldn't finish the sentence. “Of course you can tell me anything.”
“It's just that you've been so brave, Holly, I don't know how you do it. And here I am crying
over a stupid boyfriend I only went out with for a few months.”
“Me? Brave?” Holly laughed. “I wish.”
“Yes you are,” Ciara insisted. “Everyone says so. You've been so strong through everything. If I
were you, I'd be lying in a ditch somewhere.”
“Don't go giving me ideas, Ciara.” Holly smiled at her, wondering who on earth had called her
brave.
“You're OK, though, aren't you?” Ciara said worriedly, studying her face.
Holly looked down at her hands and slid her wedding ring up and down her finger. She thought
about that question for a while and the two girls became lost in their own thoughts. Ciara,
suddenly calmer than Holly had ever seen her, sat by her side patiently awaiting Holly's reply.
“Am I OK?” Holly repeated the question to herself. She looked ahead at the collection of teddy
bears and dolls that their parents had refused to throw out. “I'm lots of things, Ciara,” Holly
explained, continuing to roll her ring around on her finger. “I'm lonely, I'm tired, I'm sad, I'm
happy, I'm lucky, I'm unlucky; I'm a million different things every day of the week. But I
suppose OK is one of them.”
She looked to her sister and smiled sadly.
“And you're brave,” Ciara assured her. “And calm and in control. And organized.”
Holly shook her head slowly. “No Ciara, I'm not brave. You're the brave one. You were always
the brave one. As for being in control, I don't know what I'm doing from one day to the next.”
Ciara's forehead creased and she shook her head wildly. “No, I am far from being brave, Holly.”
“Yes you are,” Holly insisted. “All those things that you do, like jumping out of airplanes and
snowboarding off cliffs . . .” Holly trailed off as she tried to think of more crazy things her little
sister did.
Ciara shook her head in protest. “Oh no, my dear sister. That's not brave, that's foolish.
Anybody can bungee jump off a bridge. You could do it.” Ciara nudged her.
Holly's eyes widened, terrified at the thought, and she shook her head.
Ciara's voice softened. “Oh, you would if you had to, Holly. Trust me, there's nothing brave
about it.”
Holly looked at her sister and matched her tone. “Yes, and if your husband died you would cope
if you had to. There's nothing brave about it. There's no choice involved.”
Ciara and Holly stared at each other, aware of the other's battle.
Ciara was the first to speak. “Well, I guess you and I are more alike than we thought.” She
smiled at her big sister and Holly wrapped her arms around her small frame and hugged her
tightly. “Well, who would have thought?”
Holly thought her sister looked like such a child with her big innocent blue eyes. She felt like
they were both children again, sitting on the floor where they used to play together during their
childhood and where they would gossip when they were teenagers.
They sat in silence listening to the sounds outside.
“Was there something you were going to scream at me about earlier on?” Ciara asked quietly
with an even more childish voice. Holly had to laugh at her sister for trying to take advantage.
“No, forget about it, it was nothing,” Holly replied, staring out at the blue sky. From outside the
door, Declan wiped his brow and breathed a sigh of relief; he was in the clear. He tiptoed
silently back into his bedroom and hopped back into bed. Whoever this Mathew was, he owed
him big-time. His phone beeped, signaling a message, and he frowned as he read the message:
Who the hell was Sandra? Then a grin crept across his face as he remembered the night before.
Twenty-two
IT WAS EIGHT O'CLOCK WHEN Holly finally drove up her driveway, and it was still bright.
She smiled, the world never felt quite so depressing when it was bright. She had spent the day
with Ciara chatting about her adventures in Australia. Ciara had changed her mind at least
twenty times in the space of a few hours about whether or not she should call Mathew in
Australia. By the time Holly left, Ciara was adamant she would never speak to him again, which
probably meant she had already called him by now.
She walked up the path to the front door and stared at the garden curiously. Was it her
imagination or did it look a little tidier? It was still a complete mess with weeds and overgrown
shrubs sprouting up everywhere, but something about it looked different.
The sound of a lawnmower started and Holly spun around to face her neighbor, who was out
working in his garden. She waved over to thank him, presuming it was he who had helped her,
and he held his hand up in response.
It had always been Gerry's job to do the garden. He wasn't necessarily a keen gardener, it was
just that Holly was an incredibly unkeen gardener, so somebody had to do the dirty work. It had
been agreed between them that there was no way in the world Holly was going to waste her day
off toiling in the sand. As a result, their garden was simple; just a small patch of grass
surrounded by a few shrubs and flowers. As Gerry knew very little about gardening, he often
planted flowers during the wrong season or put them in the wrong place; they just ended up
dying. But even their patch of grass and few shrubs now looked like nothing more than an
overgrown field. When Gerry died, the garden had died along with him.
This thought now reminded Holly of the orchid in her house. She rushed inside and filled a jug
with water and poured it over the extremely thirsty-looking plant. It didn't look very healthy at
all and she promised herself not to let it die under her care. She threw a chicken curry into the
microwave and sat down to wait at the kitchen table. Outside on the road she could still hear
the kids playing happily. She always used to love when the bright evenings came; Mum and Dad
would let them all play outside longer, which meant she wouldn't have to go to bed till later
than usual, and that had always been a treat for them all. Holly thought back over her day and
decided it had been a good one, apart from one isolated incident . . .
She looked down at the rings on her wedding finger and she immediately felt guilty. When that
man had walked away from her, Holly had felt so awful. He had given her that look as if she
were about to initiate an affair when that was the last thing in the world she would ever do. She
felt guilty for even considering accepting his invitation to go for a coffee.
If Holly had left her husband because she absolutely couldn't stand him anymore, she could
understand being able to eventually become attracted to someone else. But her husband had
died when they were both still very much in love, and she couldn't just fall out of love all of a
sudden solely because he wasn't around anymore. She still felt married, and going for a coffee
would have seemed like she was betraying her husband. The very thought disgusted her. Her
heart, soul and mind still belonged with Gerry.
Holly continued to twist her rings around on her finger. At what point should she take her
wedding ring off? Gerry was gone almost five months now, so when was the appropriate time
to remove her ring and tell herself she wasn't married anymore? Where was the rulebook for
widows that explained when exactly the ring should be taken off? And when it finally did come
off, where would she put it, where should she put it? In the bin? Beside her bed so she could be
reminded of him every single day? She plagued herself with question after question. No, she
wasn't quite ready to give up her Gerry yet; as far as she was concerned, he was still living.
The microwave beeped as her dinner was ready. She took the dish out and threw it straight into
the bin. She had lost her appetite.
Later that night Denise rang her in a tizzy. “Switch Dublin FM on quick!” Holly raced to the
radio and flicked the switch. “I'm Tom O'Connor and you're listening to Dublin FM. If you've
just joined us, we are talking about bouncers. In light of the amount of persuasion it took the
'Girls and the City' girls to blag their way in to the club Boudoir, we wanna know what your
thoughts on bouncers are. Do you like them? Do you not? Do you agree or understand why they
are the way they are? Or are they too strict? The number to call is . . .”
Holly picked the phone back up, forgetting Denise had still been on the other end.
“Well?” Denise said, giggling.
“What the hell have we started, Denise?”
“Oh I know,” she giggled again. It was obvious she was loving every minute of it. “Did you see
the papers today?”
“Yeah, it's all a bit silly, really. I agree it was a good documentary, but the stuff they were
writing was just stupid,” Holly said.
“Oh honey, I love it! And I love it even more because I'm in it!” she laughed.
“I bet you do,” Holly responded.
They both remained quiet while they listened to the radio. Some guy was giving out about
bouncers and Tom was trying to calm him down.
“Oh, listen to my baby,” Denise said. “Doesn't he sound so sexy?”
“Em . . . yeah,” Holly mumbled. “I take it you two are still together?”
“Of course.” Denise sounded insulted by the question. “Why wouldn't we be?”
“Well, it's been a while now, Denise, that's all.” Holly quickly tried to explain so she wouldn't
hurt her friend's feelings. “And you always said you couldn't be with a man for over a week!
You always talk about how much you hate being tied down to one person.”
“Yes, well, I said I couldn't be with a man for over a period of a week, but I never said I
wouldn't. Tom is different, Holly,” Denise said breathily.
Holly was surprised to hear this coming from Denise, the girl who wanted to remain single for
the rest of her life. “Oh, so what's so different with Tom then?” Holly rested the phone between
her ear and her shoulder and settled down in the chair to examine her nails.
“Oh, there's just this connection between us. It's like he's my soul mate. He's so thoughtful,
always surprising me with little gifts and taking me out for dinner and spoiling me. He makes
me laugh all the time, and I just love being with him. I haven't gotten sick of him like all the
other guys. Plus he's good-looking.”
Holly stifled a yawn, Denise tended to say this after the first week of going out with all her new
boyfriends and then she would quickly change her mind. But then again, perhaps Denise meant
what she said this time; after all, they had been together for over several weeks now. “I'm very
happy for you,” Holly added genuinely.
The two girls began listening to a bouncer speaking on the radio with Tom.
“Well, first of all I just want to tell you that for the past few nights we have had I don't know
how many princesses and ladies queuing up at our door. Since that bloody program was aired
people seem to think we're going to let them in if they're royalty! And I just want to say, girls,
it's not going to work again, so don't bother!”
Tom kept laughing and tried to hold himself together. Holly flicked the switch off on the radio.
“Denise,” Holly said seriously, “the world is going mad.”
The next day Holly dragged herself out of bed to go for a stroll in the park. She needed to start
doing some exercise before she turned into a complete slob, and she also needed to start
thinking about job-hunting. Everywhere she went she tried to picture herself working in that
environment. She had definitely ruled out clothes stores (the possibility of having a boss like
Denise had talked her out of that one), restaurants, hotels and pubs, and she certainly didn't
want another nine-to-five office job, which left . . . nothing. Holly decided she wanted to be like
the woman in the film she saw the night before; she wanted to work in the FBI so she could run
around solving crimes and interrogating people and then eventually fall in love with her partner,
whom she had hated when they first met. However, seeing as though she neither lived in
America nor had any police training, the chances of that happening didn't seem too hopeful.
Maybe there was a circus she could join somewhere . . .
She sat down on a park bench opposite the playground and listened to the children's screams of
delight. She wished she could go in and play on the slide and be pushed on the swings instead of
sitting here and watching. Why did people have to grow up? Holly realized she had been
dreaming of going back to her youth all weekend.
She wanted to be irresponsible, she wanted to be looked after, to be told that she didn't have to
worry about a thing and that someone else would take care of everything. How easy life would
be without having grown-up problems to worry about. And then she could grow up all over
again and meet Gerry all over again and force him to go to the doctor months earlier and then
she would be sitting beside Gerry here on the bench watching their children playing. What if,
what if, what if . . .
She thought about the stinging remark Richard had made about never having to bother with all
that children nonsense. It angered her just thinking about it. She wished so much that she could
be worrying about all that children nonsense right now. She wished she could have a little Gerry
running around the playground while she shouted at him to be careful and do other mummy
things like spit on a tissue and wipe his pudgy little dirty face.
Holly and Gerry had just started talking about having children a few months before he was
diagnosed. They had been so excited about it and used to lie in bed for hours trying to decide
names and create scenarios in their heads of what it would be like to be parents. Holly smiled at
the thought of Gerry being a father; he would have been terrific. She could imagine him being
incredibly patient while helping them with their homework at the kitchen table. She could
imagine him being overprotective if his daughter ever brought a boy home. Imagine if, imagine
if, imagine if . . . Holly needed to stop living her life in her head, remembering old memories and
dreaming impossible dreams. It would never get her anywhere.
Well, think of the devil, Holly thought to herself, seeing Richard leaving the playground with
Emily and Timmy. He looked so relaxed, she thought, watching him in surprise as he chased the
children around the park. They looked like they were having fun, not a very familiar sight. She
sat up on the bench and zipped up her extra layer of thick skin in preparation for their
conversation.
“Hello, Holly!” Richard said happily, spotting her and walking across the grass to her.
“Hello!” Holly said, greeting the kids as they ran over to her and gave her a big hug. It made a
nice change. “You're far from home,” she said to Richard. “What brings you all the way over
here?”
“I brought the children to see Grandma and Granddad, didn't I?” he said, ruffling Timmy's head.
“And we had McDonald's,” Timmy said excitedly and Emily cheered.
“Oh yummy!” Holly said, licking her lips. “You lucky things. Isn't your daddy the best?” she
said, laughing. Richard looked pleased.
“Junk food?” Holly questioned her brother.
“Ah.” He waved his hand dismissively and sat down beside her. “Everything in moderation, isn't
that right, Emily?”
Five-year-old Emily nodded her head as though she had completely understood her father. Her
big green eyes were wide and innocent and her nodding head was sending her strawberry blond
ringlets bouncing. She was eerily like her mother and Holly had to look away. Then she felt
guilty and looked back and smiled . . . then had to look away again. There was something about
those eyes and that hair that scared her.
“Well, one McDonald's meal isn't going to kill them,” Holly agreed with her brother.
Timmy grabbed at his throat and pretended to choke. His face went red as he made gagging
noises and he collapsed on the grass and lay very still. Richard and Holly laughed. Emily looked
like she was going to cry.
“Oh dear,” Richard joked. “Looks like we were wrong, Holly, the McDonald's did kill Timmy.”
Holly looked at her brother in shock for calling his son Timmy but she decided not to mention it,
it was obviously just a slip of the tongue. Richard got up and threw Timmy over his shoulder.
“Well, we better go bury him now and have a funeral.” Timmy giggled as he dangled upside
down on his father's shoulder.
“Oh, he's alive!” Richard laughed.
“No, I'm not,” giggled Timmy.
Holly watched in amusement at the family scene before her. It had been a while since she had
witnessed anything like this. None of her friends had any children and Holly was very rarely
around them. There was obviously something seriously wrong with her if she was doting on
Richard's children. And it wasn't the wisest decision to become broody when there was no man
in your life.
“OK, we best be off,” laughed Richard. “Bye, Holly.”
“Bye, Holly,” the children cheered, and Holly watched Richard walk off with Timmy slung over
his right shoulder as little Emily skipped and danced along beside her father while gripping his
hand.
Holly stared in amusement at the stranger walking off with two children. Who was this man
who claimed to be her brother? Holly certainly had never met that man before.
Twenty-three
BARBARA FINISHED SERVING HER CUSTOMERS, and as soon as they left the building
she ran into the staff room and lit up a cigarette. The travel agent's had been so busy all day that
she had had to work through her lunch break. Melissa, her work mate, had called in sick that
morning, although Barbara knew very well she had partied too hard the night before and any
sickness she might have had was only self-inflicted. So she was stuck in this boring job all by
herself today. And of course it was the busiest day they'd had in ages. As soon as November
came with those horrible depressing dark nights and dark mornings and piercing winds and
sheets of rain, everyone came running in the door booking holidays to beautiful hot sunny
countries. Barbara shuddered as she heard the wind rattle the windows and made a note to
herself to check for any special holiday deals.
With her boss finally out to run some errands, Barbara was really looking forward to her
cigarette break. Of course, just her luck, the bell over the door sounded just then and Barbara
cursed the customer entering the shop for disturbing her precious break. She puffed on the
cigarette furiously, almost making herself dizzy, reapplied her glossy red lipstick and sprayed
perfume all around the room so her boss wouldn't notice the smoke. She left the staff room
expecting to see a customer sitting behind the counter, but instead the old man was still slowly
making his way to the counter. Barbara tried not to stare and began pressing random buttons on
the keypad.
“Excuse me?” she heard the man's weak voice call to her.
“Hello sir, how can I help you?” she said for the hundredth time that day. She didn't mean to be
rude by staring at him, but she was surprised at how young the man actually was. From far away
his slumped figure looked elderly. His body was hunched and the walking stick in his hand
seemed to be the only thing preventing him from collapsing on the floor in front of her. His skin
was very white and pasty, as though he hadn't seen the sun for years, but he had big brown
puppy eyes that seemed to smile at her. She couldn't help but smile back at him.
“I was hoping to book a holiday,” he said quietly, “but I was wondering if you could help me
choose a place.”
Usually Barbara would have silently screamed at the customer for making her do this
unbelievably impossible task. Most of her customers were so fussy that she could be sitting there
for hours with them flicking through brochures and trying to persuade them where to go when
the truth was she really couldn't give a toss where they went. But this man seemed pleasant, so
she was glad to help. She surprised herself.
“No problem, sir, why don't you take a seat there and we'll search through the brochures.” She
pointed to the chair in front of her and looked away again so she didn't have to watch his
struggle to sit down.
“Now,” she said, full of smiles, “is there any country in particular that you would like to go to?”
“Em . . . Spain . . . Lanzarote, I think.”
Barbara was glad; this was going to be a lot easier than she thought.
“And is it a summer holiday you're looking for?”
He nodded slowly.
They worked their way through the brochures and finally the man found a place that he liked.
Barbara was happy that he took her advice into account, unlike some of her other customers,
who just ignored every single bit of her knowledge. She should know what was best for them, it
being her job and all.
“OK, any month in particular?” she said, looking at the prices.
“August?” he asked, and those big brown eyes looked so deep into Barbara's soul she just
wanted to jump over the counter and give him a big hug.
“August is a good month,” she agreed with him. “Would you like a sea view or a pool view?
The sea view is an extra thirty euro,” she added quickly.
He stared into space with a smile on his face as though he were already there. “A sea view,
please.”
“Good choice. Can I take your name and address, please?”
“Oh . . . this isn't actually for me . . . it's a surprise for my wife and her friends.”
Those brown eyes looked sad.
Barbara cleared her throat nervously. “Well, that's very thoughtful of you, sir,” she felt she had
to add. “Could I have their names then, please?”
She finished taking his details and he settled the bill. She began to print the arrangements from
the computer to give to him.
“Oh, do you mind if I leave the details here with you? I want to surprise my wife and I would be
afraid of leaving papers around the house in case she finds them.”
Barbara smiled; what a lucky wife he had.
“I won't be telling her till July, so do you think it could be kept quiet till then?”
“That's no problem at all, sir, usually the flight times aren't confirmed till a few weeks before
anyway, so we would have no reason to call her. I'll give the other staff strict instructions not to
call the house.”
“Thank you for your help, Barbara,” he said, smiling sadly with those puppy eyes.
“It's been a pleasure, Mr. . . . Clarke?”
“It's Gerry.” He smiled again.
“Well, it's been a pleasure, Gerry, I'm sure your wife will have a wonderful time. My friend went
there last year and she loved it.” Barbara felt the need to reassure him his wife would be fine.
“Well, I better head back home before they think I've been kidnapped. I'm not even supposed to
be out of bed, you know.” He laughed again and a lump formed in Barbara's throat.
Barbara jumped to her feet and ran around the other side of the counter to hold the door open
for him. He smiled appreciatively as he walked past her and she watched as he slowly climbed
into the taxi that had been waiting outside for him. Just as Barbara was about to close the door
her boss walked in and it banged against his head. She looked over at Gerry, who was still
waiting in the taxi to move out onto the road and he laughed and gave her the thumbs-up.
Her boss threw her a look for leaving the counter unattended and marched into the staff room.
“Barbara,” he yelled, “have you been smoking in here again?” She rolled her eyes and turned to
face him.
“God, what's wrong with you? You look like you're about to burst into tears.”
It was the first of July and Barbara sat grumpily behind the counter of Swords Travel Agents.
Every day she had worked this summer had been a beautiful sunny day, and the last two days
she had off it had pissed down with rain. Today was typically the complete opposite. It was the
hottest day of the year, all her customers kept bragging as they strolled in, wearing their little
shorts and skimpy tops, filling the room with the smell of coconut sun cream. Barbara squirmed
in her chair in her uncomfortable and incredibly itchy uniform. She felt like she was back at
school again. She banged on the fan once more as it suddenly stalled.
“Oh, leave it, Barbara,” Melissa moaned. “That'll only make it worse.”
“As if that could be possible,” she grumbled, and spun around in her chair to face the computer,
where she pounded on the keypad.
“What is it with you today?” Melissa laughed.
“Oh, nothing much,” Barbara said through gritted teeth, “it's just the hottest day of the year and
we're stuck in this crappy job in this stuffy room with no air-conditioning in these horrible itchy
uniforms.” She shouted each word toward her boss's office, hoping he would hear. “That's all.”
Melissa sniggered. “Look, why don't you go outside for a few minutes to get some air and I'll
deal with this next customer,” she said, nodding to the woman making her way in.
“Thanks, Mel,” Barbara said, relieved at finally being able to escape. She grabbed her cigarettes.
“Right, I'm going to get some fresh air.”
Melissa looked down at Barbara's hand and rolled her eyes. “Hello, can I help you?” she smiled
at the woman.
“Yes, I was wondering if Barbara still works here?”
Barbara froze just as she was reaching the door and contemplated whether to run outside or go
back to work. She groaned and headed back to her seat. She looked at the woman behind the
counter; she was pretty, she decided, but her eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her
head as she stared frantically from one girl to the other.
“Yes, I'm Barbara.”
“Oh good!” The lady looked relieved and she dived onto the stool in front of her. “I was afraid
you might not work here anymore.”
“She wishes,” Melissa muttered under her breath and received an elbow in the stomach from
Barbara.
“Can I help you?”
“Oh God, I really hope you can,” the lady said a bit hysterically and rooted through her bag.
Barbara raised her eyebrows over at Melissa and the two of them tried to hold in their laughs.
“OK,” she said, eventually pulling out a crumpled envelope from her bag. “I received this today
from my husband and I was wondering if you could explain it to me.”
Barbara frowned as she stared at the crumpled piece of paper on the counter. A page had been
torn out of a holiday brochure and written on it were the words: “Swords Travel Agents. Attn:
Barbara.”
Barbara frowned again and looked at the page more closely. “My friend went there two years
ago on holiday, but other than that it means nothing to me. Did you not get any more
information?”
The lady shook her head vigorously.
“Well, can't you ask your husband for more information?” Barbara was confused.
“No, he's not here anymore,” she said sadly, and tears welled in her eyes. Barbara panicked; if
her boss saw her making someone cry she would really be given her marching orders. She was
on her last warning as it was.
“OK then, can I take your name and maybe it will come up on the computer.”
“It's Holly Kennedy.” Her voice shook.
“Holly Kennedy, Holly Kennedy.” Melissa repeated her name after listening in on their
conversation, “that name rings a bell. Oh, hold on, I was about to call you this week! That's
weird! I was under strict instructions from Barbara not to ring you until July for some reason . .
.”
“Oh!” Barbara interrupted her friend, finally realizing what was going on. “You're Gerry's
wife?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes!” Holly threw her hands to her face in shock. “He was in here?”
“Yes he was,” Barbara smiled encouragingly. “He was a lovely man,” she said, reaching out to
Holly's hand on the counter.
Melissa stared at the two of them, not knowing what was going on. Barbara's heart went out to
the lady across the counter, she was so young and it must be so hard for her right now. But
Barbara was delighted to be the bearer of good news. “Melissa, can you get Holly some tissues,
please, while I explain to her exactly why her husband was here?” She beamed across the
counter at Holly.
She let go of Holly's hand to tap away at the computer and Melissa returned with a box of
tissues. “OK, Holly,” she said softly. “Gerry has arranged a holiday for you and a Sharon
McCarthy and a Denise Hennessey to go to Lanzarote for one week, arriving on the
twenty-eighth of July to return home on the third of August.”
Holly's hands flew to her face in shock and tears poured from her eyes.
“He was adamant that he find the perfect place for you,” Barbara continued, delighted at her
new role. She felt like one of those female television hosts who spring surprises on their guests.
“That's the place you're going to,” she said, tapping the crumpled page in front of her. “You'll
have a fab time, believe me, my friend was there two years ago like I said already, and she just
loved it. There are loads of restaurants and bars around and . . .” She trailed off, realizing Holly
probably didn't give a damn about whether she had a good time or not.
“When did he come in?” Holly asked, still in shock.
Barbara, glad to help in her new role, happily tapped away on the computer. “The booking was
made on the twenty-eighth of November.”
“November?” Holly gasped. “He shouldn't even have been out of bed then! Was he on his
own?”
“Yes, but there was a taxi waiting outside for him the whole time.”
“What time of day was this?” Holly asked quickly.
“I'm sorry but I really can't remember. It was quite a long time ago–”
“Yes, of course, I'm sorry,” Holly interrupted.
Barbara completely understood. If that was her husband, well, if she ever met someone worth
becoming her husband, she would also want to know every single detail. Barbara told her as
much as she could remember until Holly could think of no more questions to ask.
“Oh, thank you, Barbara, thank you so much.” Holly reached over the counter and gave her a
big hug.
“No problem at all.” She hugged her back, feeling satisfied with her good deed of the day.
“Come back and let us know how you get on,” she smiled. “Here's your details.” She handed
her a thick envelope and watched her walk out of the room. She sighed, thinking the crappy job
might not be so crappy after all.
“What on earth was that all about?” Melissa was dying to find out. Barbara began to explain the
story.
“OK, girls, I'm taking my break now. Barbara, no smoking in the staff room.” Their boss closed
and locked his door and then turned around to face them. “Christ Almighty, what are you two
crying about now?”
Twenty-four
HOLLY EVENTUALLY ARRIVED AT HER house and waved to Sharon and Denise, who
were sitting on her garden wall bathing in the sun. They jumped up as soon as they saw her and
rushed over to greet her.
“God, you both got here quick,” she said, trying to inject energy into her voice. She felt
completely and utterly drained, and she really wasn't in the mood to have to explain everything
to the girls right now. But she would have to.
“Sharon left work as soon as you called and she collected me from town,” Denise explained,
studying Holly's face and trying to assess how bad the situation was.
“Oh, you didn't have to do that,” Holly said lifelessly as she put the key in the door.
“Hey, have you been working in your garden?” Sharon asked, looking around and trying to
lighten the atmosphere.
“No, my neighbor's been doing it, I think.” Holly pulled the key from the door and searched
through the bunch for the correct one.
“You think?” Denise tried to keep the conversation going while Holly battled with yet another
key in the lock.
“Well, it's either my neighbor or a little leprechaun lives down the end of my garden,” she
snapped, getting frustrated with the keys. Denise and Sharon looked at each other and tried to
figure out what to do. They motioned to each other to stay quiet, as Holly was obviously
stressed and finding it difficult to remember which key went in the door.
“Oh, fuck it!” Holly yelled and threw her keys on the ground. Denise jumped back, just
managing to keep the heavy bunch from slamming into her ankles.
Sharon picked them up. “Hey, hun, don't worry about it,” she said lightheartedly. “This happens
to me all the time, I swear the bloody things jump around on the key ring deliberately just to piss
us off.”
Holly smiled wearily, thankful that somebody else could take control for a while. Sharon slowly
worked her way through the keys, talking calmly to her in a singsong voice as though speaking
to a child. The door finally opened and Holly rushed in to turn the alarm off. Thankfully she
remembered the number, the year Gerry and she had met, and the year they got married.
“OK, why don't you two make yourselves comfortable in the living room and I'll follow you in a
minute.” Sharon and Denise did as they were told while Holly headed into the toilet to splash
cold water on her face. She needed to snap out of this daze, take control of her body and be as
excited about this holiday as Gerry had intended. When she felt a little more alive she joined the
girls in the living room.
She pulled the footrest over to the couch and sat opposite the girls.
“OK, I'm not going to drag this one out. I opened the envelope for July today and this is what it
said.” She rooted in her bag for the small card that had been attached to the brochure and
handed it to the girls. It read:
Have a good Holly day!
PS, I love you . . .
“Is that it?” Denise wrinkled up her nose, unimpressed. Sharon nudged her in the ribs. “Ow!”
“Well, Holly, I think it's a lovely note,” Sharon lied. “It's so thoughtful and it's . . . a lovely play
on words.”
Holly had to giggle. She knew Sharon was lying because she always flared her nostrils when she
wasn't telling the truth. “No, you fool!” she said, hitting Sharon over the head with a cushion.
Sharon began to laugh. “Oh good, because I was beginning to worry there for a second.”
“Sharon, you are always so supportive you make me sick sometimes!” Holly exclaimed. “Now
this is what else was inside.” She handed them the crumpled page that was torn from the
brochure.
She watched with amusement as the girls tried to figure out Gerry's writing and Denise finally
held her hand up to her mouth. “Oh my God!” she gasped, sitting forward on her seat.
“What what what?” Sharon demanded and leaned forward with excitement. “Did Gerry buy you
a holiday?”
“No.” Holly shook her head seriously.
“Oh.” Sharon and Denise both sat back in their seats with disappointment.
She allowed an uncomfortable silence to gather between them before she spoke again.
“Girls,” she said with a smile beginning to spread across her face, “he bought us a holiday!”
The girls opened a bottle of wine.
“Oh, this is incredible,” Denise said after the news had sunk in. “Gerry's such a sweetie.”
Holly nodded, feeling proud of her husband, who had once again managed to surprise them all.
“So you went down to this Barbara person?” Sharon asked.
“Yes, and she was the sweetest girl,” Holly smiled. “She sat with me for ages, telling me about
the conversation they had that day.”
“That was nice.” Denise sipped her wine. “When was it by the way?”
“He went in at the end of November.”
“November?” Sharon looked thoughtful. “That was after the second operation.”
Holly nodded. “The girl said he was pretty weak when he went in.”
“Isn't it funny that none of us had any idea at all?” Sharon said, still astonished by the whole
thing.
They all nodded silently.
“Well, it looks like we're all off to Lanzarote!” Denise cheered and she held her glass up. “To
Gerry!”
“To Gerry!” Holly and Sharon joined in.
“Are you sure Tom and John won't mind?” Holly asked, suddenly aware that the girls had
partners to think of.
“Of course John won't mind!” Sharon laughed. “He'll probably be delighted to be rid of me for a
week!”
“Yeah, and me and Tom can go away for a week another time, which actually suits me fine,”
agreed Denise. “Because that way we're not stuck together for two weeks on our first holiday
together!” she laughed.
“Sure you two practically live together anyway!” Sharon said, nudging her.
Denise gave a quick smile but didn't answer and the two of them dropped the subject. That
annoyed Holly, because they were always doing that. She wanted to hear how her friends were
getting on in their relationships but nobody seemed to tell her any of the juicy gossip out of fear
of hurting her. People seemed to be afraid to tell her about how happy they were or about the
good news in their lives. Then again they also refused to moan about the bad things. So instead
of being informed of what was really going on in her friends' lives she was stuck with this
mediocre chitchat about . . . nothing, really, and it was starting to bother her. She couldn't be
shielded from other people's happiness forever, what good would that do her?
“I have to say that leprechaun really is doing a great job on your garden, Holly,” Denise cut into
her thoughts as she looked out the window.
Holly blushed. “Oh I know. I'm sorry for being a bitch earlier, Denise,” she apologized. “I
suppose I should really go next door and thank him properly.”
After Denise and Sharon had headed off home Holly grabbed a bottle of wine from under the
stairs and carried it next door to her neighbor. She rang the bell and waited.
“Hi Holly,” Derek said, opening the door. “Come in, come in.”
Holly looked past him and into the kitchen and saw the family sitting around the table eating
dinner. She backed away from the door slightly.
“No, I won't disturb you, I just came by to give you this”–she handed him the bottle of wine–“as
a token of my thanks.”
“Well Holly, this is really thoughtful of you,” he said, reading the label. Then he looked up with
a confused expression on his face. “But thanks for what, if you don't mind me asking?”
“Oh, for tidying up my garden,” she said, blushing. “I'm sure the entire estate was cursing me for
ruining the appearance of the street,” she laughed.
“Holly, your garden certainly isn't a worry to anyone, we all understand, but I haven't been
tidying it for you, I'm sorry to say.”
“Oh.” Holly cleared her throat, feeling very embarrassed. “I thought you had been.”
“No, no.” He shook his head.
“Well, you wouldn't by any chance know who has been?” she laughed like an idiot.
“No, I have no idea,” he said, looking very confused. “I thought it was you, to be honest. How
odd.”
Holly wasn't quite sure what to say next.
“So perhaps you would like to take this back,” he said awkwardly, thrusting the wine bottle
toward her.
“Oh no, that's OK,” she laughed again, “you can keep that as thanks for . . . not being neighbors
from hell. Anyway, I'll let you get back to dinner.” She ran off down the driveway with her face
burning with embarrassment. What kind of fool wouldn't know who was tidying her own
garden?
She knocked on a few more doors around the estate and to her continued embarrassment
nobody seemed to know what she was talking about. Everyone seemed to have jobs and lives,
and remarkably enough they didn't spend their days monitoring her garden. She returned to her
house even more confused. As she walked in the door the phone was ringing and she ran to
answer it.
“Hello?” she panted.
“What were you doing, running a marathon?”
“No, I was chasing leprechauns,” Holly explained.
“Oh, cool.”
The oddest thing was that Ciara didn't even question her.
“It's my birthday in two weeks.”
Holly had completely forgotten. “Yeah, I know,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Well, Mum and Dad want us all to go out for a family dinner . . .”
Holly groaned loudly.
“Exactly,” and she screamed away from the phone, “Dad, Holly said the same thing as me.”
Holly giggled as she heard her father cursing and grumbling in the background.
Ciara returned to the phone and spoke loudly so her father could hear, “OK, so my idea is to go
ahead with the family dinner but to invite friends as well so that it can actually be an enjoyable
night. What do you think?”
“Sounds good,” Holly agreed.
Ciara screamed away from the phone, “Dad, Holly agrees with my idea.”
“That's all very well,” Holly heard her dad yelling, “but I'm not paying for all those people to
eat.”
“He has a point.” Holly added, “Tell you what, why don't we have a barbecue? That way Dad
can be in his element and it won't be so expensive.”
“Hey, that's a cool idea!” Ciara screamed away from the phone once again, “Dad, what about
having a barbecue?”
There was a silence.
“He's loving that idea,” Ciara giggled. “Mr. Super Chef will once again cook for the masses.”
Holly also giggled at the thought. Her dad got so excited when they had barbecues; he took the
whole thing so seriously and stood by the barbecue constantly while watching over his
wonderful creations. Gerry had been like that too. What was it with men and barbecues?
Probably it was the only thing that the two of them could actually cook, either that or they were
closet pyromaniacs.
“OK, so will you tell Sharon and John, Denise and her DJ bloke, and will you ask that Daniel
guy to come too? He's yummy!” she laughed hysterically.
“Ciara, I hardly know the guy. Ask Declan to ask him, he sees him all the time.”
“No, because I want you to subtly tell him that I love him and want to have his babies.
Somehow I don't think Declan would feel very comfortable doing that.”
Holly groaned.
“Stop it!” Ciara gave out, “He's my birthday treat!”
“OK,” she gave in, “but why do you want all my friends there, what about your friends?”
“Holly, I've lost contact with all my friends, I've been away for so long. And all my other friends
are in Australia and the stupid bastards haven't bothered to call me,” she huffed.
Holly knew to whom she was referring. “But don't you think this would be a great opportunity
to catch up with your old friends? You know, invite them to a barbecue; it's a nice, relaxed
atmosphere.”
“Yeah right, what would I have to tell them when they start asking questions? Have you a job?
Eh . . . no. Have you a boyfriend? Eh . . . no. Where do you live? Eh . . . actually I still live with
my parents. How pathetic would I sound?”
Holly gave up. “OK, whatever . . . anyway, I'll call the others and . . .”
Ciara had already hung up.
Holly decided to get the most awkward phone call out of the way first and she dialed the
number to Hogan's.
“Hello, Hogan's.”
“Hi, can I speak to Daniel Connelly, please?”
“Yeah, hold on.” She was put on hold and “Greensleeves” belted out into her ear.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Daniel?”
“Yeah, who's this?”
“It's Holly Kennedy.” She danced nervously around her bedroom, hoping he would recognize
the name.
“Who?” he yelled as the noise in the background became louder.
Holly dived onto her bed in embarrassment. “It's Holly Kennedy? Declan's sister?”
“Oh Holly, hiya, hold on a second while I go somewhere quieter.”
Holly was stuck listening to “Greensleeves” again and she danced around her bedroom and
started singing along.
“Sorry Holly,” Daniel said, picking up the phone again and laughing. “You like 'Greensleeves'?”
Holly's face went scarlet and she hit herself across the head. “Em, no, not really.” She couldn't
think of what else to say, then she remembered why she was ringing.
“I was just ringing to invite you to a barbecue.”
“Oh great, yeah, I would love to go.”
“It's Ciara's birthday on Friday week; you know my sister, Ciara?”
“Eh . . . yes, the one with the pink hair.”
Holly laughed. “Yeah, stupid question, everyone knows Ciara. Well, she wanted me to invite
you to the barbecue and to subtly tell you that she wants to marry you and have your babies.”
Daniel started laughing. “Yes . . . that was very subtle all right.”
Holly wondered whether he was interested in her sister, if she was his type.
“She's twenty-five on Friday week,” Holly felt like adding for some unknown reason.
“Oh . . . right.”
“Em, well, Denise and your friend Tom are coming as well, and Declan will be there with his
band of course, so you'll know plenty of people.”
“Are you going?”
“Of course!”
“Good, I'll know even more people then, won't I?” he laughed.
“Oh great, she'll be delighted you're coming.”
“Well, I would feel rude for not accepting an invitation from a princess.”
At first Holly thought he was flirting and then she realized he was referring to the documentary,
so she mumbled some sort of incoherent answer. He was just about to hang the phone up when
a thought suddenly popped into her head, “Oh, there's just one more thing.”
“Go for it,” he said.
“Is that position behind the bar still available?”
Twenty-five
THANK GOD IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL day, Holly thought, as she locked her car and walked
around to the back of her parents' house. The weather had drastically changed that week and it
had rained and rained continuously. Ciara was in hysterics about what would become of her
barbecue and she had been hell to be with all week. Luckily for everyone's sake the weather had
returned to its former splendor. Holly already had a good tan from lying out in the sun all month,
one of the perks of not having a job, and she felt like showing it off today by wearing a cute
little denim skirt she had bought in the summer sales and a simple tight white T-shirt that made
her look even browner.
Holly was proud of the present she had bought Ciara and she knew Ciara would love it. It was a
butterfly belly button ring that had a little pink crystal in each wing. She had chosen it so it
would coordinate with Ciara's new butterfly tattoo and her pink hair, of course. She followed
the sounds of laughter and was glad to see that the garden was full with family and friends.
Denise had already arrived with Tom and Daniel, and they had all flaked out on the grass.
Sharon had arrived without John and she was sitting chatting to Holly's mum, no doubt
discussing Holly's progress in life. Well, she was out of the house, wasn't she? That was a
miracle in itself.
Holly frowned as she noted Jack was once again not present. Ever since he had helped her carry
out the task of cleaning out Gerry's wardrobe, he had been unusually distant. Even when they
were children Jack had always been great at understanding Holly's needs and feelings without
her having to point them out to him, but when she had told him that she needed space after
Gerry's death, she didn't mean she wanted to be completely ignored and isolated. It was so out
of character for him not to be in contact for so long. Nerves fluttered through Holly's stomach
and she prayed that he was all right.
Ciara was standing in the middle of the garden screaming at everyone and loving being the
center of attention. She was dressed in a pink bikini top to match her pink hair and blue denim
cutoffs.
Holly approached her with her present, which was immediately grabbed from her hand and
ripped open. She needn't have bothered wrapping it so neatly.
“Oh Holly, I love it!” Ciara exclaimed and threw her arms around her sister.
“I thought you would,” Holly said, glad she had chosen the right thing, because otherwise her
beloved sister would no doubt have let her know about it.
“I'm gonna wear it now actually,” Ciara said, ripping out her current belly button ring and
piercing the butterfly through her skin.
“Ugh,” Holly shuddered. “I could have gone without seeing that, thank you very much.”
There was a beautiful smell of barbecued food in the air and Holly's mouth began to water. She
wasn't surprised to see all the men huddled around the barbecue with her dad in pride of place.
Hunter men must provide food for women.
Holly spotted Richard and she marched over. Ignoring the small talk she just charged right in.
“Richard, did you tidy my garden?”
Richard looked up from the barbecue with a confused expression on his face. “Excuse me, did I
what?” The rest of the men stopped their conversation and stared.
“Did you tidy my garden?” she repeated with her hands on her hips. She didn't know why she
was acting so angry with him, just a force of habit probably, because if he had tidied it he had
done her a huge favor. It was just annoying to keep returning home to see another section of her
garden cleared and to not know who was doing it.
“When?” Richard looked around at the others frantically, as though he had been accused of
murder.
“Oh, I don't know when,” she snapped. “During the days for the past few weeks.”
“No, Holly,” he snapped back. “Some of us have to work, you know.”
Holly glared at him and her father interjected. “What's this, love, is someone working on your
garden?”
“Yes, but I don't know who,” she mumbled, rubbing her forehead and trying to think again. “Is
it you, Dad?”
Frank shook his head wildly, hoping his daughter hadn't finally lost the plot.
“Is it you, Declan?”
“Eh . . . think about it, Holly,” he said sarcastically.
“Is it you?” she turned to the stranger standing next to her father.
“Um . . . no, I just flew into Dublin . . . um . . . for the . . . um, weekend,” he replied nervously
with an English accent.
Ciara started laughing. “Let me help you, Holly. Is anybody here working on Holly's garden?”
she yelled to the rest of the party. Everybody stopped what they were doing and shook their
heads with blank expressions on their faces.
“Now wasn't that much easier?” Ciara cackled.
Holly shook her head with disbelief at her sister and joined Denise, Tom and Daniel on the far
side of the garden.
“Hi, Daniel.” Holly leaned over to greet Daniel with a kiss on the cheek.
“Hi, Holly, long time no see.” He handed her a can from beside him.
“You still haven't found that leprechaun?” Denise laughed.
“No,” Holly said, stretching her legs out in front of her and resting back on her elbows. “But it
is just so odd!” She explained the story to Tom and Daniel.
“Do you think maybe your husband organized it?” Tom blurted out, and Daniel threw his friend
a look.
“No,” Holly said, looking away, angry that a stranger knew her private business, “it's not part of
that.” She scowled at Denise for telling Tom.
Denise just held her hands up helplessly and shrugged.
“Thanks for coming, Daniel.” Holly turned to him, ignoring the other two.
“No problem at all, I was glad to come.”
It was weird seeing him out of his usual wintery clothes; he was dressed in a navy vest and navy
combat shorts that went just below his knees with a pair of navy trainers. She watched his
biceps as he took a slug of his beer. She had had no idea he was that fit.
“You're very brown,” she commented, trying to think of an excuse for being caught staring at
his biceps.
“And so are you,” he said, purposely staring at her legs.
Holly laughed and tucked them up underneath her. “A result of unemployment, what's your
excuse?”
“I was in Miami for a while last month.”
“Ooh, lucky you, did you enjoy it?”
“Had a great time,” he nodded, smiling. “Have you ever been?”
She shook her head. “But at least us girls are heading off to Spain next week. Can't wait.” She
rubbed her hands together excitedly.
“Yes I heard that. I'd say that was a nice surprise for you.” He gave her a smile, his eyes
crinkling at the corners.
“You're telling me.” Holly shook her head, still not quite believing it.
They chatted together for a while about his holiday and their lives in general and Holly gave up
eating her burger in front of him, as she could find no easy way of eating it without tomato
ketchup and mayonnaise dribbling down her mouth every time it was her turn to speak.
“I hope you didn't go to Miami with another woman or poor Ciara will be devastated,” she
joked, and then kicked herself for being so nosy.
“No, I didn't,” he said seriously. “We broke up a few months ago.”
“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,” she said genuinely. “Were you together long?”
“Seven years.”
“Wow, that's a long time.”
“Yeah.” He looked away and Holly could tell he didn't feel comfortable talking about it, so she
quickly changed the subject.
“By the way, Daniel,” Holly lowered her voice to a hushed tone and Daniel moved his head
closer. “I just wanted to thank you so much for looking out for me the way you did after the
documentary. Most men run away when they see a girl cry; you didn't, so thank you.” Holly
smiled gratefully.
“No problem at all, Holly. I don't like to see you upset.” Daniel returned the smile.
“You're a good friend,” Holly said, thinking aloud.
Daniel looked pleased. “Why don't we all go out for drinks or something before you go away?”
“Maybe I can get to know as much about you as you know about me.” Holly laughed. “I think
you know my whole life story by this stage.”
“Yeah, I'd like that,” Daniel agreed, and they arranged a time to meet.
“Oh, by the way, did you give Ciara that birthday present?” Holly asked excitedly.
“No,” he laughed. “She's been kind of . . . busy.”
Holly turned around to look at her sister and spotted her flirting with one of Declan's friends,
much to Declan's disgust. Holly laughed at her sister. So much for wanting Daniel's babies.
“I'll call her over, will I?”
“Go on,” Daniel said.
“Ciara!” Holly called. “Got another pressie for you!”
“Ooh!” Ciara screamed with delight and abandoned a very disappointed-looking young man.
“What is it?” She collapsed on the grass beside them.
Holly nodded over at Daniel. “It's from him.”
Ciara excitedly turned to face him.
“I was wondering if you would like a job working behind the bar at Club Diva?”
Ciara's hands flew to her mouth. “Oh Daniel, that would be brill!”
“Have you ever worked behind a bar?”
“Yeah, loads of times.” She waved her hand dismissively.
Daniel raised his eyebrows; he was looking for a bit more information than that.
“Oh, I've done bar work in practically every country I've been to, honestly!” she said excitedly.
Daniel smiled. “So do you think you'll be able for it?”
“Ooh, would I ever!” she squealed and threw her arms around him.
Any excuse, Holly thought, as she watched her sister practically strangling Daniel. His face
started to turn red and he made “rescue me” faces toward Holly.
“OK, OK, that's enough, Ciara,” she laughed, dragging her off Daniel. “You don't want to kill
your new boss.”
“Oh sorry,” Ciara said, backing off. “This is so cool! I have a job, Holly!” she squealed again.
“Yes, I heard,” Holly said.
Suddenly the garden became very quiet and Holly looked around to see what was happening.
Everyone was facing the conservatory and Holly's parents appeared at the door with a large
birthday cake in their hands singing “Happy Birthday.” Everyone else joined in and Ciara
jumped up, lapping up all the attention. As her parents stepped outside, Holly spotted someone
following behind them with a huge bouquet of flowers. Her parents walked toward Ciara and
placed the birthday cake on the table before her and the stranger behind slowly removed the
bouquet from his face.
“Mathew!” Ciara gasped.
Holly grabbed Ciara's hand as her face went white.
“I'm sorry for being such a fool, Ciara.” Mathew's Australian accent echoed around the garden.
Some of Declan's friends smirked loudly, obviously feeling uncomfortable at this open show of
emotion. He actually looked like he was acting out a scene from an Australian soap, but then
again drama always seemed to work for Ciara. “I love you! Please take me back!” he announced,
and everyone turned to stare at Ciara to see what she would say.
Her lower lip started to tremble and she ran over to Mathew and jumped onto him, wrapping
her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.
Holly was overcome with emotion and tears welled in her eyes at the sight of her sister being
reunited with the man she loved. Declan grabbed his camera and began filming.
Daniel wrapped his arm around Holly's shoulders and gave her an encouraging squeeze. “I'm
sorry, Daniel,” Holly said, wiping her eyes, “but I think you've just been dumped.”
“Not to worry,” he laughed. “I shouldn't mix business with pleasure anyway.” He seemed
relieved.
Holly continued to watch as Mathew spun Ciara around in his arms.
“Oh, get a room!” Declan yelled with disgust, and everyone laughed.
Holly smiled at the jazz band as she passed and looked around the bar for Denise. They had
arranged to meet up in the girls' favorite bar, Juicy, known for its extensive cocktail menu and
relaxing music. Holly had no intentions of getting drunk tonight, as she wanted to be able to
enjoy her holiday as much as she could the next day. She intended on being bright-eyed and
bushy-tailed for her week of relaxation, thanks to Gerry. She spotted Denise snuggling up to
Tom on a comfortable large black leather couch in a conservatory area that overlooked the River
Liffey. Dublin was lit up for the night and all its colors were reflected in the water. Daniel sat
opposite Denise and Tom sucking fiercely on a strawberry daiquiri, eyes surveying the room.
Nice to see Tom and Denise were ostracizing everyone again.
“Sorry I'm late,” Holly apologized, approaching her friends. “I just wanted to finish packing
before I came out.”
“You're not forgiven,” Daniel said quietly into her ear as he gave her a welcoming hug and kiss.
Denise looked up at Holly and smiled, Tom waved slightly and they returned their attention to
each other.
“I don't know why they even bother inviting other people out. They just sit there staring into
each other's eyes ignoring everyone else. They don't even talk to each other! And then they
make you feel like you've interrupted them if you strike up a conversation. I think they've got
some weird telepathic conversation going on there,” Daniel said, sitting down again and taking
another sip from his glass. He made a face at the sweet taste. “And I really need a beer.”
Holly laughed. “Oh, so all round it sounds like you've been having a fantastic night.”
“Sorry,” Daniel apologized. “It's just been so long since I've spoken to another human being,
I've forgotten my manners.”
Holly giggled. “Well, I've come to rescue you.” She picked up the menu and surveyed the choice
of drinks before her. She chose a drink with the lowest alcohol content and settled down in the
cozy chair. “I could fall asleep here,” she remarked, snuggling further down into the chair.
Daniel raised his eyebrows. “Then I would really take it personally.”
“Don't worry, I won't,” she assured him. “So, Mr. Connelly, you know absolutely everything
about me. Tonight I am on a mission to find out about you, so be prepared for my
interrogation.”
Daniel smiled. “OK, I'm ready.”
Holly thought about her first question. “Where are you from?”
“Born and reared in Dublin.” He took a sip of the red cocktail and winced again. “And if any of
the people I grew up with saw me drinking this stuff and listening to jazz, I'd be in trouble.”
Holly giggled.
“After I finished school I joined the army,” he continued.
Holly raised her eyes, impressed. “Why did you decide to do that?”
He didn't even think about it. “Because I hadn't a clue what I wanted to do with my life, and the
money was good.”
“So much for saving innocent lives,” Holly laughed.
“I only stayed with the army for a few years.”
“Why did you leave?” Holly sipped on her lime-flavored drink.
“Because I realized I had urges to drink cocktails and listen to jazz music and they wouldn't
permit it in the army barracks,” he explained.
Holly giggled. “Really, Daniel.”
He smiled. “Sorry, it just wasn't for me. My parents had moved down to Galway to run a pub
and the idea of that appealed to me. So I moved down to Galway to work there and eventually
my parents retired, I took over the pub, decided a few years ago that I wanted to own one of my
own, worked really hard, saved my money, took out the biggest mortgage ever and moved back
to Dublin and bought Hogan's. And here I am talking to you.”
Holly smiled. “Well, that's a wonderful life story, Daniel.”
“Nothing special, but a life all the same.” He returned her smile.
“So where does the ex come into all this?” Holly asked.
“She's right in between running the pub in Galway and leaving to come to Dublin.”
“Ah . . . I see,” Holly nodded, understanding. She drained her glass and picked up the menu
again. “I think I'll have Sex on the Beach.”
“When? On your holidays?” Daniel teased.
Holly thumped him playfully on the arm. Not in a million years.
Twenty-six
“WE'RE ALL GOING ON OUR summer Holly days!” the girls sang in the car all the way to
the airport. John had offered to drive them to the airport but he was fast regretting it. They were
acting like they had never left the country before. Holly couldn't remember the last time she had
truly felt so excited. She felt like she was back at school and off on a school tour. Her bag was
packed with packets of sweets, chocolate and magazines, and they couldn't stop singing cheesy
songs in the back of the car. Their flight wasn't until 9:00 P.M., so they wouldn't arrive at their
accommodation until the early hours of the morning.
They reached the airport and piled out of the car while John lifted their suitcases out of the boot.
Denise ran across the road and into the departure lounge as if doing so would get her there any
faster, but Holly stood back from the car and waited for Sharon, who was saying her good-byes
to her husband.
“You'll be careful now, won't you?” he asked her worriedly. “Don't be doing anything stupid
over there.”
“John, of course I'll be careful.”
John wasn't listening to a word she said. “Because it's one thing messing around over here, but
you can't act like that in another country, you know.”
“John,” Sharon said, wrapping her arms around his neck, “I'm just going for a nice relaxing
holiday; you don't need to worry about me.”
He whispered something in her ear and she nodded, “I know, I know.”
They gave each other a long good-bye kiss and Holly watched her lifelong friends embrace. She
felt around in the front pocket of her bag for the August letter from Gerry. She would be able to
open it in a few days while lying on the beach. What luxury. The sun, sand, sea and Gerry all in
one day.
“Holly, take care of my wonderful wife for me, will you?” John asked, breaking into Holly's
thoughts.
“I will, John. We're only going for a week, you know.” Holly laughed and gave him a hug.
“I know, but after seeing what you girls get up to on your nights out, I'm just a little worried,”
he smiled. “You enjoy yourself, Holly, you deserve the rest.”
John watched them as they dragged their luggage across the road and into the departure lounge.
Holly paused as she entered the door and took in a deep breath. She loved airports. She loved
the smell, she loved the noise, and she loved the whole atmosphere as people walked around
happily tugging their luggage, looking forward to going on their holidays or heading back home.
She loved to see people arriving and being greeted with a big cheer by their families and she
loved to watch them all giving each other emotional hugs. It was a perfect place for
people-spotting. The airport always gave her a feeling of anticipation in the pit of her stomach
as though she were about to do something special and amazing. Queuing at the boarding gate,
she felt like she was waiting to go on a roller coaster ride at a theme park, like an excited little
child.
Holly followed Sharon and they joined Denise halfway down the extremely long check-in
queue.
“I told you we should have come earlier,” Denise moaned.
“Well then, we would just be waiting at the boarding gate for the same amount of time,”
reasoned Holly.
“Yeah, but at least there's a bar there,” explained Denise, “and it's the only place in this entire
stupid building that us smoker freaks can smoke in,” she mumbled.
“Good point,” Holly thought aloud.
“Now, can I just point out something to you two before we even leave. I'm not going to be
doing any crazy drinking or having any wild nights. I just want to be able to relax by the pool or
on the beach with my book, enjoy a few meals out and go to bed early,” Sharon said seriously.
Denise looked at Holly in shock. “Is it too late to invite someone else, Hol? What do you
reckon? Sharon's bags are still packed and John can't be too far down the road.”
Holly laughed. “No, I have to agree with Sharon on this one. I just want to go and relax and not
do anything too stressful.”
Denise pouted like a child.
“Oh, don't worry, pet,” Sharon said softly, “I'm sure there will be other kids your age that you
can play with.”
Denise threw her the finger. “Well, if they ask me if I have anything to declare when we get
there, I'm telling everyone my two friends are dry shites.”
Sharon and Holly sniggered.
After thirty minutes of queuing they finally checked in and Denise ran around the shop like a
madwoman buying a lifetime supply of cigarettes.
“Why is that girl staring at me?” Denise said through gritted teeth, eyeing up the girl at the end
of the bar.
“Probably because you're staring at her,” Sharon responded, checking her watch. “Only fifteen
more minutes.”
“No honestly, girls.” Denise turned back around to face them. “I'm not being paranoid here, she
is definitely staring at us.”
“Well then, why don't you go over to her and ask her if she wants to take it outside,” Holly
joked and Sharon sniggered.
“Oh, here she comes,” Denise sang and turned her back to her.
Holly looked up and saw a skinny blond-haired girl with big fake tits heading toward them.
“You better get those knuckle-dusters out, Denise, she looks like a dangerous one,” Holly
teased and Sharon choked on her drink.
“Hi there!” the girl squeaked.
“Hello,” Sharon said, trying not to laugh.
“I didn't mean to be rude by staring, but I just had to come over and see if it was really you!”
“It's me all right,” Sharon said sarcastically, “in the flesh.”
“Oh, I just knew it!” the girl squealed and jumped up and down with excitement. Unsurprisingly
her chest stayed still. “My friends kept telling me I was wrong but I knew it was you! That's
them over there.” She turned around and pointed to the end of the bar and the other four spice
girls twinkled their fingers back. “My name's Cindy . . .”
Sharon choked on her water again.
“. . . And I'm just the biggest fan of all of you,” she squealed excitedly. “I just love that show
that you're all in, I've watched it dozens and dozens of times! You play Princess Holly, don't
you?” she said, pointing a manicured nail in Holly's face.
Holly opened her mouth to speak but Cindy kept on talking.
“And you play her lady!” she pointed at Denise. “And you!” she squealed even louder, pointing
at Sharon, “you were friends with that Australian rock star!”
The girls looked at each other worriedly as she pulled out a chair and sat down at their table.
“You see, I'm an actress myself . . .”
Denise rolled her eyes.
“. . . And I would just love to work on a show like yours. When are you making the next one?”
Holly opened her mouth to explain that they weren't actually actresses but Denise beat her to it.
“Oh, we're in discussions right now about our next project,” she lied.
“Oh, how fantastic!” Cindy clapped her hands. “What's it about?”
“Well, we can't really say right now, but we have to go to Hollywood for filming.”
Cindy looked like she was going to have a heart attack. “Oh my God! Who's your agent?”
“Frankie,” Sharon interrupted Denise, “so Frankie and us are all going to Hollywood.”
Holly couldn't hold her laugh in.
“Oh, don't mind her, Cindy, she's just excited,” explained Denise.
“Wow, and so you should be!” Cindy looked down at Denise's boarding pass on the table and
nearly had heart failure. “Wow, you girls are going to Lanzarote too?!”
Denise grabbed her boarding pass and shoved it in her bag, as if that would make a difference.
“I'm going there with my friends. They're just over there,” she turned around again and waved
at them again and they waved back again. “We're staying in a place called Costa Palma Palace.
Where are you guys staying?”
Holly's heart sank. “Oh, I can't quite remember the name, girls, can you?” She looked to Sharon
and Denise with wide eyes.
They shook their heads vigorously.
“Oh well, not to worry,” she shrugged her shoulders happily, “I'll see you when we land
anyway! I better go now and board, I wouldn't want the plane to fly off without me!” She
squeaked so loudly that the surrounding tables turned to stare. She gave each of the girls a big
hug and tottered off back to her friends.
“Looks like we needed those knuckle-dusters after all,” Holly said miserably.
“Oh, it doesn't matter,” perked up Sharon, always the optimist. “We can just ignore her.”
They all stood up and headed over to the boarding gate. As they made their way to their seats
Holly's heart sank once again and she immediately dived into the seat on the far side of the aisle.
Sharon sat down beside her and Denise's face was a picture when she realized who she had to
sit next to.
“Oh fab! You get to sit beside me!” Cindy squeaked at Denise. Denise threw Sharon and Holly
a nasty look and plonked herself beside Cindy.
“See? I told you that you'd find yourself a little friend to play with,” Sharon whispered to
Denise. Sharon and Holly broke into fits of laughter.
Twenty-seven
FOUR HOURS LATER THE PLANE glided over the sea and landed at Lanzarote Airport,
causing everyone to cheer and applaud. No one on the plane was more relieved than Denise.
“Oh, I have the biggest headache,” she complained to the girls as they made their way to the
luggage reclaim. “That bloody girl just talks and talks and talks.” She massaged her temples and
closed her eyes, relieved at the peace.
Sharon and Holly spotted Cindy and her crew making their way over to them and they dashed
off into the crowd, leaving Denise standing alone with her eyes closed.
They beat their way through the crowd so they had a good view of the luggage. Everybody
thought it would be a great idea to stand right next to the conveyer belt and to lean forward so
that nobody beside them could see what was coming. They stood there for almost half an hour
before the conveyer belt even started moving and a further half an hour later they were still
standing there waiting for their bags while the majority of the crowd had headed outside to their
coaches.
“You bitches,” Denise said, angrily approaching them, dragging her suitcase behind her. “You
still waiting for your bags?”
“No, I just find it strangely comforting standing here and watching the same leftover bags going
around and around and around. Why don't you go on ahead to the coach and I'll just stay here
and continue enjoying myself,” Sharon said sarcastically.
“Well, I hope they lost your case,” Denise snapped. “Or even better, I hope your bag burst open
and all your big knickers and bras are spread all over the conveyer belt for everyone to see.”
Holly looked at Denise with amusement. “You feel better now?”
“Not until I have a cigarette,” she replied, but she still managed to smile.
“Ooh, there's my bag!” Sharon said happily and swung it off the conveyer belt, managing to
whack Holly in the shins.
“Ow!”
“Sorry, but must save clothes.”
“If they've lost my clothes I'm going to sue them,” Holly said angrily. By now everyone else had
gone and they were the only people left inside. “Why am I always the last person waiting for my
bags?” she asked her friends.
“Murphy's Law,” Sharon explained. “Ah, here it is.” She grabbed the suitcase and once again
whacked it against Holly's already sore shins.
“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Holly yelled, rubbing her legs. “Could you at least swing the bloody thing the
other way?!”
“Sorry,” Sharon looked apologetic, “I only swing one way, darling.”
The three of them headed off to meet their holiday rep.
“Stop, Gary! Get off me!” they heard a voice screeching as they rounded a corner. They
followed the sound and spotted a young woman dressed in a red holiday rep uniform being
attacked by a young man also dressed in a holiday rep uniform. The girls approached her and she
straightened herself up.
“Kennedy, McCarthy and Hennessey?” she said in a thick London accent.
The girls nodded.
“Hi, I'm Victoria and I'm your holiday rep for the next week.” She plastered a smile on her face.
“So follow me and I'll show you to the coach.” She winked cheekily at Gary and led the girls
outside.
It was two o'clock in the morning, and yet a warm breeze greeted them as they stepped outside.
Holly smiled to the girls, who felt it too; now they were really on holiday. When they stepped
into the coach everybody cheered and Holly silently cursed them all, hoping this wasn't going to
be a cheesy “let's all make friends” holiday.
“Woo-hoo,” Cindy sang over to them. She was standing up from her chair and waving at them.
“I kept you all a seat back here!”
Denise sighed loudly over Holly's shoulder and the girls trudged down to the backseat of the
bus. Holly was lucky to sit next to the window, where she could ignore the rest of them. She
hoped Cindy would understand that she wanted to be left alone, the major hint being that Holly
had ignored her from the moment she had tottered over to their table.
Forty-five minutes later they reached Costa Palma Palace and the excitement once again
returned to Holly's stomach. There was a long driveway in and tall palm trees lined the center of
the drive. A large fountain was lit up with blue lights outside the main entrance and to her
annoyance everybody on the bus cheered once again when they pulled up outside. The girls
were booked into a studio apartment, which was a nice neat size containing one bedroom with
twin beds, a small kitchen and living area with a sofa bed, a bathroom, of course, and a balcony.
Holly stepped onto the balcony and looked out to the sea. Although it was too dark to see
anything, Holly could hear the water gently lapping up against the sand. She closed her eyes and
listened.
“Cigarette, cigarette, must have cigarette,” Denise joined her, ripping the cigarette packet open
and inhaling deeply. “Ah! That's much better; I no longer have the desire to kill people.”
Holly laughed; she was looking forward to spending time with her friends. “Hol, do you mind if
I sleep on the sofa bed? That way I can smoke . . .”
“Only if you keep the door open, Denise,” Sharon yelled from inside. “I'm not waking up in the
morning to the stink of smoke.”
“Thanks,” Denise said happily.
At nine o'clock that morning Holly was woken up to the sound of Sharon stirring. Sharon
whispered to her she was going down to the pool to save them some sun beds. Fifteen minutes
later Sharon returned to the apartment. “The Germans have nicked all the sun beds,” she said
grumpily. “I'll be down on the beach if you want me.” Holly sleepily mumbled some sort of
response and fell back asleep again. At ten o'clock Denise jumped on her in bed and they
decided to get up and join Sharon at the beach.
The sand was hot and they had to keep moving so as not to burn the soles of their feet. As
proud as Holly had been about her tan back in Ireland, it was obvious they had just arrived on
the island, as they were the whitest people there. They spotted Sharon sitting under the shade of
an umbrella reading her book.
“Oh, this is so beautiful, isn't it?” Denise smiled, looking around.
Sharon looked up from her book and smiled. “Heaven.”
Holly looked around to see if Gerry had come to the same heaven. Nope, no sign of him. All
around her there were couples, couples massaging sun cream onto each other's bodies, couples
walking hand in hand along the beach, couples playing beach tennis, and directly in front of her
sun bed, a couple was snuggled up together sunbathing. Holly didn't have any time to be
depressed, as Denise had stepped out of her sundress and was hopping around on the hot sand
in nothing but a skimpy leopard-skin thong.
“Will one of you put sun cream on me?”
Sharon put her book down and stared at her over the rim of her reading glasses. “I'll do it, but
you can put the cream on your tits and bum yourself.”
“Damn,” Denise joked. “Don't worry about it, I'll go ask someone else then.” Denise sat at the
end of Sharon's sun bed while Sharon applied the cream. “You know what, Sharon?”
“What?”
“You'll get an awful tan line if you keep that sarong on.”
Sharon looked down at herself and pulled the little skirt further down her legs. “What tan? I
never get a tan. I've nice Irish skin, Denise. Didn't you know that the color blue was the new
brown?”
Holly and Denise laughed. As much as Sharon tried to tan over the years she just ended up
getting sunburned and then peeling. She had finally given up trying for a tan and accepted the
fact that her skin was meant to be blue.
“Besides, I look like such a blob these days I wouldn't want to scare everyone off.”
Holly looked at her friend, annoyed at her for calling herself a blob. She had put a little bit of
weight on but was by no means fat.
“Why don't you go up to the swimming pool then and scare all those Germans away?” Denise
joked.
“Yeah girls, we really need to get up earlier tomorrow to get a place by the pool. The beach gets
boring after a while,” Holly suggested.
“Don't vorry. Ve vill get ze Germans,” joked Sharon.
The girls relaxed by the beach for the rest of the day, occasionally dipping themselves into the
sea to cool down. They ate lunch at the beach bar and generally had a lazy day just as they had
planned. Holly gradually felt all the stress and tension working its way out of her muscles, and
for a few hours she felt free.
That night they successfully managed to avoid the Barbie Brigade and enjoyed dinner in one of
the many restaurants that lined the busy street not far from the complex.
“I can't believe it's ten o'clock and we're heading back to the apartment already,” Denise said
while staring longingly at the huge choice of bars around them.
People overflowed from the outdoor bars and onto the streets, music vibrating from every
building, mixing together to form an unusual eclectic sound. Holly could almost feel the ground
pulsing beneath her. Conversation between them stopped as they took in the sights, sounds and
smells around them. There was loud laughter, clinking glasses and singing coming from every
direction. Neon lights flashed and buzzed, each battling for its own customers. On the street,
bar owners fought hard against each other to convince passersby to enter, handing out leaflets,
free drinks and concessions.
Tanned young bodies hung out in big groups around the outdoor tables and strolled confidently
by them on the street, the smell of coconut sun cream rich in the air. Looking at the average age
of the clientele, Holly felt old.
“Well, we can go to a bar for a few drinks if you want,” Holly said uncertainly, watching the
younger ones dancing around on the street.
Denise stopped walking and scanned the bars in order to choose one.
“All right, beautiful.” A very attractive man stopped and flashed his pearly whites at Denise. He
had an English accent. “Are you coming in here with me?”
Denise stared at the young man for a while, lost in thought. Sharon and Holly smirked at each
other, knowing that Denise wouldn't be going to bed early after all. In fact, Denise might not
get to bed at all that night, knowing her.
Finally Denise snapped out of her trance and straightened herself up. “No thank you, I have a
boyfriend and I love him!” she announced proudly. “Come on, girls!” she said to Holly and
Sharon and walked off in the direction of the hotel.
The two girls remained on the street, mouths open in shock. They couldn't quite believe it. They
had to run to catch up with her.
“What are you two gawking at?” Denise smiled.
“You,” Sharon said, still shocked. “Who are you and what have you done with my man-eating
friend?”
“OK.” Denise held her hands up in the air and grinned. “Maybe being single isn't all it's cracked
up to be.”
Holly lowered her eyes and kicked a stone along the path as they made their way back to their
resort. It sure wasn't.
“Well good for you, Denise,” Sharon said happily, wrapping her arm around Denise's waist and
giving her a little squeeze.
A silence fell between them and Holly listened as the music faded away slowly, leaving only a
beat of the bass in the distance.
“That street made me feel so old,” Sharon said suddenly.
“Me too!” Denise's eyes widened. “Since when did people start going out so young?”
Sharon began to laugh. “Denise, the people aren't getting younger, we are getting older, I'm
afraid.”
Denise thought about that for a while. “Well, it's not like we're old old, for God's sake. I mean,
it's not exactly time for us to hang up our dancing shoes and grab our walking sticks. We could
stay out all night if we wanted to, we just . . . are tired. We've had a long day . . . oh God, I do
sound old.” Denise rambled on to herself as Sharon was too busy watching Holly, head down,
kicking a stone along the path.
“Holly, are you OK? You haven't said a word in a while.” Sharon was concerned.
“Yeah, I was just thinking,” Holly said quietly, keeping her head down.
“Thinking about what?” Sharon asked softly.
Holly's head shot up. “Gerry.” She looked at the girls. “I was thinking about Gerry.”
“Let's go down to the beach,” Denise suggested, and they slipped out of their shoes and allowed
their feet to sink into the cool sand.
The sky was clear black and a million little stars twinkled down on them; it was as if someone
had thrown glitter up into a massive black net. The full moon rested itself low over the horizon,
reflecting its beam and showing where the sea met the sky. The girls sat in its path along the
shore. The musical water gently lapped before them, calming them, relaxing them. The air was
warm but a small cool breeze brushed past Holly, causing her hair to tickle her skin. She closed
her eyes, took a deep breath and filled her lungs with fresh air.
“That's why he brought you here, you know,” Sharon said, watching her friend relaxing.
Holly's eyes remained closed and she smiled.
“You don't talk about him much, Holly,” Denise said casually, making designs with her finger in
the sand.
Holly slowly opened her eyes. Her voice was quiet but warm and silky. “I know.”
Denise looked up from drawing circles in the sand. “Why not?”
Holly paused for a while and looked out to the black sea. “I don't know how to talk about him.”
She thought for a while. “I don't know whether to say 'Gerry was' or 'Gerry is.' I don't know
whether to be sad or happy when I talk about him to other people. It's like if I'm happy when I
talk about him, certain people judge and expect me to be crying my eyes out. When I'm upset
when talking about him, it makes people feel uncomfortable.” She stared out to the black sea
sparkling in the background and her voice was quieter when she spoke again. “I can't tease him
in conversation like I used to because it feels wrong. I can't talk about things he told me in
confidence because I don't want to give his secrets away, because they're his secrets. I just don't
quite know how to remember him in conversation. It doesn't mean I don't remember him up
here,” she tapped the side of her temples.
The three girls sat cross-legged on the soft sand.
“John and I talk about Gerry all the time.” Sharon looked at Holly with glittering eyes. “We talk
about the times he made us laugh, which was a lot.” The girls laughed at the memory. “We even
talk about the times we fought. Things we loved about him, things he did that really annoyed
us.”
Holly raised her eyebrows.
Sharon continued, “Because to us, that's just how Gerry was. He wasn't all nice. We remember
all of him, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.”
There was a long silence.
Denise was the first to speak. “I wish my Tom had known Gerry.” Her voice trembled a little.
Holly looked at her in surprise.
“Gerry was my friend too,” she said, tears pricking in her eyes. “And Tom didn't even know him
at all. So I try to tell him things about Gerry all the time just so he knows that not long ago, one
of the nicest men on this earth was my friend and I think everyone should have known him.”
Her lip wobbled and she bit down on it hard. “But I can't believe that someone I now love so
much, who knows everything else about me, doesn't know a friend that I loved for ten years.”
A tear ran down Holly's cheek and she reached out to hug her friend. “Well then, Denise, we'll
just have to keep telling Tom about him, won't we?”
They didn't bother meeting up with their holiday rep the next morning, as they had no intention
of going on any tours or taking part in any silly sports tournaments. Instead, they got up early
and took part in the sun bed dance, running around trying to throw their towels on the sun beds
to reserve their positions for the day. Unfortunately, they still hadn't managed to get up early
enough. (“Don't those bloody Germans ever sleep?” Sharon had given out.) Finally after Sharon
had sneakily thrown a few towels away from some unattended beds, the girls managed to get
three beds together.
Just as Holly found herself nodding off she heard piercing screams and a crowd ran by her. For
some reason, Gary, one of the holiday reps, thought it would be a really funny idea to dress in
drag and be chased around the swimming pool by Victoria. Everyone around the pool cheered
them on as the girls rolled their eyes. Eventually Victoria caught Gary and they both managed to
fall on top of each other into the swimming pool.
Everyone applauded.
Minutes later as Holly was taking a quiet swim a woman announced into a microphone attached
to her head that she was going to begin aqua aerobics in the pool in five minutes. Victoria and
Gary, helped by the Barbie Brigade, ran around all the sun beds dragging everyone up and
forcing them to take part.
“Ah, would you ever fuck off!” Holly heard Sharon scream at one of the members of the Barbie
Brigade as she tried to drag her into the pool. Holly was soon forced out of the pool by the
approaching herd of hippopotami who were about to dive in for their aqua aerobics session.
They sat through an incredibly annoying half hour session of aerobics with the instructor yelling
out the movements into the headpiece. When it was finally over they announced a water polo
tournament was about to take place, so the girls immediately jumped up and headed over to the
beach for some peace and quiet.
“You ever hear from Gerry's parents, Holly?” Sharon asked as she and Holly lounged on their
inflatable rafts in the sea.
“Yeah, they send me postcards every few weeks telling me where they are and how they're
getting on.”
“So they're still on that cruise?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you miss them?”
“To be honest, I don't really think they feel like they're part of me anymore. Their son's gone and
they have no grandchildren, so I don't think they feel we have any connection anymore.”
“That's bullshit, Holly. You were married to their son and that makes you their daughter-in-law.
That's a very strong connection.”
“Oh, I don't know,” she sighed. “I just don't think that's enough for them.”
“They're a bit backward, aren't they?”
“Yeah, very. They hated me and Gerry 'living in sin' as they said. Couldn't wait for us to get
married. And then they were even worse when we did! They couldn't understand why I wouldn't
change my name.”
“Yeah, I remember that,” Sharon said. “His mum gave me an earful at the wedding. She said it
was the woman's duty to change her name as a sign of respect to her husband. Imagine that?
The cheek of her!”
Holly laughed.
“Ah well, you're better off without them being around anyway,” Sharon assured her.
“Hello girls.” Denise floated out to meet them.
“Hey, where have you been?” Holly asked.
“Oh, I was just chatting to some bloke from Miami. Really nice guy.”
“Miami? That's where Daniel went on holiday,” she said, lightly running her fingers through the
clear blue water.
“Hmmm,” Sharon replied, “nice guy, Daniel, isn't he?”
“Yeah, he's a really nice guy,” Holly agreed. “Very easy to talk to.”
“Tom was telling me he's really been through the wars recently,” Denise said, turning to lie on
her back.
Sharon's ears pricked up at the sound of gossip, “Why's that?”
“Oh, he was engaged to be married to some chick and it turns out she was sleeping with
someone else. That's why he moved to Dublin and bought the pub, to get away from her.”
“I know, it's awful, isn't it?” Holly said sadly.
“Why, where did he live before?” Sharon asked.
“Galway. He used to run a pub there,” Holly explained.
“Oh,” Sharon said, surprised, “he doesn't have a Galway accent.”
“Well, he grew up in Dublin and joined the army, then he left and moved to Galway where his
family owns a pub, then he met Laura, they were together for seven years, were engaged to be
married, but she cheated on him so they broke up and he moved back to Dublin and bought
Hogan's.” Holly caught her breath.
“Don't know much about him, do you?” Denise teased.
“Well, if you and Tom had paid the slightest bit more attention to us the other night in the pub
then maybe I wouldn't know so much about him,” Holly replied playfully.
Denise sighed loudly. “God, I really miss Tom,” she said sadly.
“Did you tell the guy from Miami that?” Sharon laughed.
“No, I was just chatting to him,” Denise said defensively. “To be honest, nobody else interests
me. It's really weird, it's like I can't even see any other men, and I mean that I don't even notice
them. And as we are currently surrounded by hundreds of half-naked men, I think that's saying a
lot.”
“I think they call it love, Denise.” Sharon smiled at her friend.
“Well, whatever it is, I've never felt like this before.”
“It's a nice feeling,” Holly said more to herself.
They lay in silence for a while, all lost in their own thoughts, allowing the gentle motion of the
waves to soothe them.
“Holy shit!” Denise suddenly yelled, causing the other two to jump. “Look how far out we are!”
Holly sat up immediately and looked around. They were out so far from the shore everybody on
the beach looked like little ants.
“Oh shit!” panicked Sharon, and as soon as Sharon panicked Holly knew they were in trouble.
“Start swimming, quick!” Denise yelled, and they all lay on their stomachs and started splashing
around with all their might. After a few minutes of tirelessly going at it they gave up, out of
breath. To their horror they were even farther out than they had been when they started.
It was no use, the tide was moving out too quickly, and the waves were just too strong.
Twenty-eight
“HELP!” DENISE SCREAMED AT THE top of her lungs and waved her arms around wildly.
“I don't think they can hear us,” Holly said with tears welling in her eyes.
“Oh, could we be any more stupid?” Sharon gave out and continued to rant on about the
dangers of rafts in the sea.
“Oh, forget about that, Sharon,” Denise snapped. “We're here now so let's all scream together
and maybe they'll hear us.”
They all cleared their throats and sat up on their rafts as much as they possibly could without
causing them to sink under their weight.
“OK, one, two, three . . . HELP!” they all yelled, and waved their arms around frantically.
Eventually they stopped screaming and stared in silence at the dots on the beach to see if it had
made any impact. Everything remained as it was.
“Please tell me there aren't any sharks out here,” Denise whimpered.
“Oh please, Denise,” Sharon snapped viciously, “that is the last thing we need to be reminded of
right now.”
Holly gulped and stared down into the water. The once clear blue water had darkened. Holly
hopped off her raft to see how deep it was, and as her legs dangled, her heart began to pound.
Their situation was bad. Sharon and Holly tried to swim for it while dragging their rafts behind
them, while Denise continued her bloodcurdling screams.
“Jesus, Denise,” Sharon panted, “the only thing that's gonna respond to that is a dolphin.”
“Look, why don't you two just stop swimming because you've been at it now for a few minutes
and you're still right beside me.”
Holly stopped swimming and looked up. Denise stared back at her.
“Oh.” Holly tried to hold back her tears. “Sharon, we might as well stop and save our energy.”
Sharon stopped swimming and the three of them huddled together on their rafts and cried.
There was really nothing more they could do, Holly thought, beginning to panic even more.
They had tried shouting for help, but the wind was carrying their voices in the other direction;
they had tried swimming, which had been completely pointless, as the tide was too strong. It
was beginning to get chilly and the sea was looking dark and ugly. What a stupid situation to
get themselves into. Through all her fear and worry, Holly managed to surprise herself by feeling
completely humiliated.
She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry, but the unusual sound of both began to tumble out of
her mouth, causing Sharon and Denise to stop crying and stare at her as though she had ten
heads.
“At least one good thing came out of this,” Holly half laughed and half cried.
“There's a good thing?” Sharon said, wiping her eyes.
“Well, the three of us always talked about going to Africa,” she giggled like a madwoman, “and
by the looks of things, I would say we're probably halfway there.”
The girls looked out to sea to their future destination. “It's a cheaper mode of transport too,”
Sharon joined in with Holly.
Denise stared at them as if they were mad, and just one look at her lying in the middle of the
ocean naked with only a leopard-skin thong on and blue lips was enough to set the girls off
laughing.
“What?” Denise looked at them wide-eyed.
“I'd say we're in deep deep trouble here,” Sharon giggled.
“Yeah,” Holly agreed, “we're in way over our heads.”
They lay there laughing and crying for a few minutes more till the sound of a speedboat
approaching caused Denise to sit up and start waving frantically again. Holly and Sharon
laughed even harder at the sight of Denise's chest bouncing up and down as she waved at the
approaching lifeguards.
“It's just like a regular night out with the girls,” Sharon giggled, watching Denise being dragged
half naked into the boat by a muscular lifeguard.
“I think they're in shock,” one lifeguard said to the other as they dragged the remaining
hysterical girls onto the boat.
“Quick, save the rafts!” Holly just about managed to blurt out through her laughter.
“Raft overboard!” Sharon screamed.
The lifeguards looked at each other worriedly as they wrapped warm blankets around the girls
and sped off back to the shore.
As they approached the beach there appeared to be a large crowd gathering. The girls looked at
one another and laughed even harder. As they were lifted off the boat there was a huge
applause; Denise turned and curtsied to them all.
“They clap now, but where were they when we needed them,” Sharon grumbled.
“Traitors,” Holly giggled.
“There they are!” They heard a familiar squeal and saw Cindy and the Barbie Brigade pushing
their way through the crowd. “Oh my God!” she squeaked. “I saw the whole thing through my
binoculars and called the lifeguards. Are you OK?” She looked to each of them frantically.
“Oh, we're fine,” Sharon said rather seriously. “We were the lucky ones. The poor rafts never
even had a chance.” With that Sharon and Holly cracked up laughing and were ushered away to
be looked at by a doctor.
That night the girls realized the seriousness of what had happened to them and their moods
drastically changed. They sat in silence throughout dinner, all thinking about how lucky they
were to be rescued and kicking themselves for being so careless. Denise squirmed
uncomfortably in her chair and Holly noticed she had barely touched her food.
“What's wrong with you?” Sharon said, sucking in a piece of spaghetti, which caused the sauce
to splash all over her face.
“Nothing,” Denise said, quietly refilling her glass with water.
They sat in silence for another little while.
“Excuse me, I'm going to the toilet.” Denise stood up and walked awkwardly into the ladies.
Sharon and Holly frowned at each other.
“What do you think is wrong with her?” Holly asked.
Sharon shrugged, “Well, she's drunk about ten liters of water through dinner, so no wonder she
keeps going to the toilet,” she exaggerated.
“I wonder if she's mad at us for going a bit funny out there today.”
Sharon shrugged again and they continued to eat in silence. Holly had reacted unusually out
there in the water, and it bothered her to think about why she had. After the initial panic of
thinking she was going to die, Holly became feverishly giddy as she realized that if she did die
she knew she would be with Gerry. It bothered her to think that she didn't care whether she
lived or died. Those were selfish thoughts. She needed to change her perspective on life.
Denise winced as she sat down.
“Denise, what is wrong with you?” Holly asked.
“I'm not telling either of you or you'll laugh,” she said childishly.
“Oh come on, we're your friends, we won't laugh,” Holly said, trying to keep the smile off her
face.
“I said no.” She filled her glass with more water.
“Ah come on, Denise, you know you can tell us anything. We promise not to laugh.” Sharon
said it so seriously that Holly felt bad for smiling.
Denise studied both their faces, trying to decide whether they could be trusted.
“Oh, OK,” she sighed loudly and mumbled something very quietly.
“What?” Holly said, moving in closer.
“Honey, we didn't hear you, you were too quiet,” Sharon said, pulling her chair in closer.
Denise looked around the restaurant to make sure nobody was listening and she moved her head
into the center of the table. “I said, from lying out in the sea for so long, my bum is sunburnt.”
“Oh,” Sharon said, sitting back in her chair abruptly.
Holly looked away to avoid eye contact with Sharon, and she counted the bread rolls in the
basket to take her mind off what Denise had just said.
There was a long silence.
“See, I said you would both laugh,” Denise huffed.
“Hey, we're not laughing,” Sharon said shakily.
There was another silence.
Holly couldn't help herself. “Just make sure you put plenty of sun cream on it so that it doesn't
peel.” The two of them finally broke down.
Denise just nodded her head and waited for them to stop laughing. She had to wait a long time.
In fact, hours later as she lay on the sofa bed trying to sleep she still waited.
The last thing she heard before she went to sleep was a smart remark from Holly: “Make sure
you lie on your front, Denise.” This was followed by more laughter.
“Hey, Holly,” Sharon whispered after they had finally calmed down. “Are you excited about
tomorrow?”
“What do you mean?” Holly asked, yawning.
“The letter!” Sharon replied, surprised that Holly didn't remember immediately. “Don't tell me
that you forgot.”
Holly reached her hand under her pillow and felt around for the letter. In one hour she would be
able to open Gerry's sixth letter. Of course she hadn't forgotten.
The next morning Holly awoke to the sound of Sharon throwing up in the toilet. She followed
her in and gently rubbed her back and held her hair back.
“You OK?” she asked worriedly after Sharon had eventually stopped.
“Yeah, it's just those bloody dreams I had all night. I dreamt I was on a boat and on a raft and all
sorts of things. I think it was just seasickness.”
“I had those dreams too. It was scary yesterday, wasn't it?”
Sharon nodded. “I'm never going on a raft again,” she smiled weakly.
Denise arrived at the bathroom door already dressed in her bikini. She had borrowed one of
Sharon's sarongs to cover up her burned behind and Holly had to bite her tongue to stop herself
from teasing her, as she was clearly in a great deal of pain.
When they arrived down at the swimming pool, Denise and Sharon joined the Barbie Brigade.
Well, it was the least they could do, seeing as they were the ones who had called for help. Holly
couldn't believe that she had fallen asleep before midnight the previous night. She had planned
to get up quietly without waking the girls, sneak out to the balcony and read the letter. How she
fell asleep in all her excitement was beyond her, but she couldn't listen to the Barbie Brigade
any longer. Before Holly was dragged into any conversation she signaled to Sharon that she was
leaving, and Sharon gave her an encouraging wink, knowing why she was disappearing. Holly
wrapped her sarong around her hips and carried her small beach bag containing the all-important
letter.
She positioned herself away from all the excited shouts of children and adults playing and stereo
blaring out the latest chart songs. She found a quiet corner and made herself comfortable on her
beach towel to avoid more contact with the burning sand. The waves crashed and fell. The
seagulls called out to one another in the clear blue sky, flew down, dipped themselves into the
cool, crystal water to catch their breakfasts. It was morning and already the sun was hot.
Holly carefully pulled the letter out of her bag as though it were the most delicate thing in the
world, and she ran her fingers along the neatly written word, “August.” Taking in all the sounds
and smells of the world around her she gently tore open the seal and read Gerry's sixth message.
Hi Holly,
I hope you're having a wonderful holiday. You're looking beautiful in that bikini, by the way! I
hope I picked the right place for you, it's the place you and I almost went for our honeymoon,
remember? Well, I'm glad you got to see it in the end . . .
Apparently, if you stand at the very end of the beach near the rocks across from your hotel, and
look around the corner to the left, you'll see a lighthouse. I'm told that's where the dolphins
gather . . . not many people know that. I know you love dolphins . . . tell them I said hi . . .
PS, I love you, Holly . . .
With shaking hands, Holly put the card back into the envelope and secured it safely in a pocket
of her bag. She felt Gerry's eyes on her as she stood up and quickly rolled up the beach towel.
She felt he was here with her. She quickly ran to the end of the beach, which suddenly stopped
because of a cliff. She put her trainers on and began to climb the rocks so she could see around
the corner.
And there it was.
Exactly where Gerry had described it, the lighthouse sat high on the cliff, bright white as though
it were some sort of torch to heaven. Holly carefully climbed over the rocks and made her way
around the little cove. She was on her own now. It was completely private. And then she heard
the noises. The squeaks of dolphins playing near the shore away from the view of all the tourists
on the beaches beside it. Holly collapsed on the sand to watch them play and listen to them talk
to one another.
Gerry sat beside her.
He may even have held her hand.
Holly felt happy enough to head back to Dublin, relaxed, destressed and brown. Just what the
doctor ordered. That didn't stop her from groaning when the plane landed in Dublin Airport to
heavy rain. This time the passengers didn't applaud and cheer and the airport seemed like a very
different place from the one she had left last week. Once again, Holly was the last person to
receive her luggage, and an hour later they trudged gloomily out to John, who was waiting in
the car.
“Well, it looks like the leprechaun didn't do any more work in your garden while you were
away,” Denise said, looking at the garden as John reached Holly's home.
Holly gave her a friends a big hug and a kiss and made her way into her quiet, empty house.
There was a horrible musty smell inside and she moved to the kitchen patio doors to let the fresh
air circulate.
She froze just as she was turning the key in the door and stared outside.
Her entire back garden had been relandscaped.
The grass was cut. The weeds were gone. The garden furniture had been polished and
varnished. A fresh coat of paint gleamed from her garden walls. New flowers had been planted
and in the corner, underneath the shade of the great oak tree, sat a wooden bench. Holly looked
around in shock; who on earth was doing all this?
Twenty-nine
IN THE DAYS FOLLOWING HER return from Lanzarote, Holly kept a low profile. Holly,
Denise and Sharon were all keen to spend the next few days apart from one another. It wasn't
something they had talked about, but after living in each other's ears every day for a whole
week, Holly was sure they all agreed it would be healthy to spend some time apart. Ciara was
impossible to get hold of, as she was either working hard at Daniel's club or spending time with
Mathew. Jack was spending his last few precious weeks of summer freedom down in Cork at
Abbey's parents' house before he had to go back to school, and Declan was . . . well, who knew
where Declan was.
Now she was back, she wasn't exactly bored with her life, but she wasn't exactly overjoyed
either. It just seemed so . . . nothing and so pointless. She'd had the holiday to look forward to,
but now felt she had no real reason to get out of bed in the morning. And as she was taking a
time-out from her friends, she really had nobody else to talk to. There was only so much
conversation she could have with her parents. Compared to last week's sweltering heat in
Lanzarote, Dublin was wet and ugly, which meant she couldn't even work at maintaining her
beautiful tan or appreciate her new back garden.
Some days she never even got out of bed, she just watched television and waited . . . waited for
next month's envelope from Gerry, wondering what journey he would take her on next. She
knew her friends would disapprove after she'd been so positive on holiday, but when he was
alive she'd lived for him, and now that he was gone she lived for his messages. Everything was
about him. She had truly believed that her purpose in life had been to meet Gerry and enjoy all
their days together for the rest of their lives. What was her purpose now? Surely she had one, or
perhaps there had been an error in the administration up above.
Something that she did feel she should do was to catch the leprechaun. After further
interrogation of her neighbors she still knew nothing more of her mystery gardener, and she was
beginning to think the whole thing had just been an awful mistake. Eventually she had herself
convinced that a gardener had made a mistake and that he was working on the wrong garden, so
she checked the post every day for a bill that she was going to refuse to pay. But no bill arrived,
of that variety anyway. Plenty of others arrived and she was running out of money fast. She had
loans up to her eyeballs, electricity bills, phone bills, insurance bills, everything that came
through her door was a bloody bill, and she hadn't a clue how she was going to continue paying
them all. But she didn't even care; she had become numb to all those irrelevant problems in life.
She just dreamed the impossible dreams.
One day Holly realized why the leprechaun hadn't returned. Her garden was only tidied when
she wasn't home. So she got out of bed early one morning and drove her car around the corner
from her house. She walked back home and settled down on her bed and waited for her mystery
gardener to appear.
After three days of Holly repeating this behavior, the rain finally stopped and the sun began to
shine again. Holly was about to give up hope of ever solving her mystery when she heard
someone approach her garden. She jumped out of bed in a panic, unprepared for what she
should do, even though she had spent days planning. She peeped over her windowsill and
spotted a young boy who looked about twelve years old walking down her drive tugging a
lawnmower along behind him. She threw on Gerry's oversized dressing gown and raced down
the stairs not caring what she looked like.
She pulled open the front door, causing the young boy to jump. His arm froze in midair and his
finger hovered just over the doorbell. His mouth dropped open at the sight of the woman in
front of him.
“A-ha!” Holly yelled happily. “I think I caught my little leprechaun!”
His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish's; he was clearly unsure of what to say. Eventually
he scrunched up his face as though he were about to cry and screamed, “Da!”
Holly looked up and down the road in search of his father and decided to squeeze as much
information out of the boy as she could before the adult reached them.
“So you're the one who's been working on my garden.” She folded her arms across her chest.
He shook his head wildly and gulped.
“You don't have to deny it,” she said gently, “you've been caught now.” She nodded over at the
lawnmower.
He turned around to stare at it and yelled again, “Da!” His dad slammed the door of a van and
made his way over to her house.
“What's wrong, son?” He wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders and looked at Holly for
an explanation.
Holly wasn't going to fall for this little charade. “I was just asking your son here about your little
scam.”
“What scam?” He looked angry.
“The one where you work on my garden without my permission and then you expect me to pay
for it. I've heard about this kind of thing before.” She put her hands on her hips and tried to look
like she couldn't be messed with.
The man looked confused. “Sorry, I don't know what you're talking about, missus. We've never
worked on your garden before.” He stared around at the state of her front garden, thinking the
woman was insane.
“Not this garden, you landscaped my back garden.” She smiled and raised her eyebrows,
thinking she had caught him.
He laughed back at her. “Landscaped your garden? Lady, are you mad? We cut grass, that's all.
See this? This is a lawnmower, nothing else. All it does is cut the bloody grass.”
Holly dropped her hands from her hips and slowly placed them in the pockets of her gown.
Maybe they were telling the truth. “Are you sure you haven't been in my garden?” she squinted
her eyes.
“Lady, I have never even worked on this street before, never mind your garden, and I can
guarantee I won't be working in your garden in the future.”
Holly's face fell. “But I thought–”
“I don't care what you thought,” he interrupted. “In future, you try to get your facts straight
before you start terrorizing my kid.”
Holly looked at the young boy and saw his eyes fill with tears. Her hands flew to her mouth
with embarrassment. “Gosh, I'm so sorry,” she apologized. “Just hold on there a minute.”
She rushed into the house to get her purse and squeezed her last fiver into the boy's chubby little
hand. His face lit up.
“OK, let's go,” his dad said, turning his son around by the shoulders and leading him down the
drive.
“Da, I don't wanna do this job anymore,” the boy moaned to his dad as they carried on to the
next house.
“Ah, don't worry, son, they all won't be as mad as her.”
Holly closed the door and studied her reflection in the mirror. He was right; she had turned into
a madwoman. Now all she needed was a house full of cats. The sound of the phone ringing
pulled Holly's eyes away from her image.
“Hello?” Holly said, answering the phone.
“Hiya, how are you?” Denise asked happily.
“Oh, full of the joys of life,” Holly said sarcastically.
“Oh, me too!” she giggled in response.
“Really? What's got you so happy?”
“Oh nothing much, just life in general,” she giggled again.
Of course, just life. Wonderful, wonderful, beautiful life. What a silly question.
“So what's happening?”
“I'm calling to invite you out for dinner tomorrow night. I know it's short notice, so if you're too
busy . . . cancel whatever it is you have planned!”
“Hold on and let me check my diary,” Holly said sarcastically.
“No problem,” Denise said seriously and was silent while she waited.
Holly rolled her eyes. “Oh look at that, whaddaya know? I appear to be free tomorrow night.”
“Oh goody!” Denise said happily. “We're all meeting at Chang's at eight.”
“Who's we?”
“Sharon and John are going and some of Tom's friends too. We haven't been out together for
ages, so it'll be fun!”
“OK then, see you tomorrow.” Holly hung up feeling angry. Had it completely slipped Denise's
mind that Holly was still a grieving widow and that life just wasn't fun for her anymore? She
stormed upstairs and opened her wardrobe. Now what piece of old and disgusting clothing
would she wear tomorrow night, and how on earth was she going to afford an expensive meal?
She could barely even afford to keep her car on the road. She grabbed all her clothes from her
wardrobe and flung them across the room, screaming her head off until she finally felt sane
again. Perhaps tomorrow she would buy those cats.
Thirty
HOLLY ARRIVED AT THE RESTAURANT at eight-twenty, as she had spent hours trying
on different outfits and ripping them off again. Eventually she settled with the outfit that she
had been instructed to wear by Gerry for the karaoke just so she could feel closer to him. She
hadn't been coping very well over the past few weeks; she had had more downs than ups and
was finding it harder to pick herself back up again.
As she was walking toward the table in the restaurant her heart sank.
Couples “R” Us.
She paused halfway there and quickly sidestepped, hiding behind a wall. She wasn't sure she
could go through with this. She hadn't the strength to keep battling with her emotions. She
looked around to find the easiest escape route; she certainly couldn't leave the way she had
come in or they would definitely see her. She spotted the fire escape beside the kitchen door,
which had been left open to clear some of the smoke. The moment she stepped out into the cool
fresh air she felt free again. She walked across the car park, trying to formulate an excuse to tell
Denise and Sharon.
“Hi, Holly.”
She froze and slowly turned around, realizing she had been caught. She spotted Daniel leaning
against his car smoking a cigarette.
“Hiya, Daniel.” She walked toward him. “I didn't know you smoked.”
“Only when I'm stressed.”
“You're stressed?” They greeted each other with a hug.
“I was trying to figure out whether to join Happy Couples United in there.” He nodded toward
the restaurant.
Holly smiled. “You too?”
He laughed, “Well, I won't tell them I saw you if that's what you want.”
“So you're going in?”
“Have to face the music sometime,” he said, grimly stabbing out his cigarette with his foot.
Holly thought about what he'd said. “I suppose you're right.”
“You don't have to go in if you don't want to. I don't want to be the cause of you having a
miserable night.”
“On the contrary, it would be nice to have another loner in my company. There are so very few
of our kind in existence.”
Daniel laughed and held out his arm. “Shall we?”
Holly linked her arm in his and they slowly made their way into the restaurant. It was
comforting to know she wasn't alone in feeling alone.
“By the way, I'm getting out of here as soon as we finish the main course,” he laughed.
“Traitor,” she answered, thumping him on the arm. “Well, I have to leave early anyway to catch
the last bus home.” She hadn't had the money to fill the tank in the car for the past few days.
“Well then, we have the perfect excuse. I'll say we have to leave early because I'm driving you
home and you have to be home by . . . what time?”
“Half-eleven?” At twelve she planned on opening the September envelope.
“Perfect time.” He smiled and they made their way into the restaurant feeling slightly reinforced
by each other's company.
“Here they are!” Denise announced as they made their way to the table.
Holly sat beside Daniel, sticking to her alibi like glue. “Sorry we're late,” she apologized.
“Holly, this is Catherine and Thomas, Peter and Sue, Joanne and Paul, Tracey and Bryan, John
and Sharon you know, Geoffrey and Samantha, and last but not least, this is Des and Simon.”
Holly smiled and nodded at all of them.
“Hi, we're Daniel and Holly,” Daniel said smartly, and Holly giggled beside him.
“We had to order already, if you don't mind,” Denise explained. “But we just ordered loads of
different dishes so we can all share them. Is that OK?”
Holly and Daniel nodded.
The woman beside Holly, whose name she couldn't remember, turned to her and spoke loudly,
“So Holly, what do you do?”
Daniel raised his eyebrows at Holly.
“Sorry, what do I do when?” Holly answered seriously. She hated nosy people. She hated
conversations that revolved around what people did for a living, especially when those people
were complete strangers that she had just met less than a minute ago. She felt Daniel shaking
with laughter beside her.
“What do you do for a living?” the woman asked again.
Holly had intended on giving her a funny but slightly rude answer but suddenly stopped herself
as all the conversations around the table died down and focused on her. She looked around with
embarrassment and cleared her throat nervously, “Em . . . well . . . I'm between jobs right now.”
Her voice shook.
The woman's lips began to twitch and she scraped a piece of bread from between her teeth
rudely.
“What is it that you do?” Daniel asked her loudly, breaking the silence.
“Oh, Geoffrey runs his own business,” she said, proudly turning to her husband.
“Oh right, but what is it that you do?” Daniel repeated.
The lady seemed disconcerted that her answer hadn't been good enough for him. “Well, I keep
myself busy all day every day doing various things. Honey, why don't you tell them about the
company?” She turned to her husband again to divert the attention from herself.
Her husband leaned forward in his seat. “It's just a small business.” He took a bite out of his
bread roll, chewed it slowly, and everyone waited while he swallowed so he could continue.
“Small but successful,” his wife added for him.
Geoffrey finally finished eating his bread. “We make car windshields and sell them to the
warehouses.”
“Wow, that's very interesting,” Daniel said dryly.
“So what is it that you do, Dermot?” she said, turning to look at Daniel.
“Sorry, my name is Daniel actually. I'm a publican.”
“Right,” she nodded and looked away. “Awful weather we're having these days, isn't it?” she
addressed the table.
Everyone fell into conversation and Daniel turned to Holly. “Did you enjoy your holiday?”
“Oh, I had a fabulous time,” she answered. “We took it easy and relaxed every day, didn't do
anything wild and weird.”
“Just what you needed,” he smiled. “I heard about your near-death experience.”
Holly rolled her eyes. “I bet Denise told you that.”
He nodded and laughed.
“Well, I'm sure she gave you the exaggerated version.”
“Not really, she just told me about how you were surrounded by sharks and had to be airlifted
from the sea by a helicopter.”
“She didn't!”
“No, not really,” he laughed. “Still, that must have been some conversation you were having to
not notice you were drifting out to sea!”
Holly's face blushed a little as she recalled that they had been talking about him.
“OK everyone,” Denise called. “You're probably wondering why Tom and I invited you all here
tonight.”
“Understatement of the year,” Daniel mumbled, and Holly giggled.
“Well, we have an announcement to make.” She looked around at everyone and smiled.
Holly's eyes widened.
“Myself and Tom are getting married!” Denise squealed, and Holly's hands flew up to her mouth
in shock. She did not see that one coming.
“Oh Denise!” she gasped, and walked around the table to hug them. “That's wonderful news!
Congratulations!”
She looked at Daniel's face; it had gone white.
They popped open a bottle of champagne and everyone raised their glasses as Jemima and Jim or
Samantha and Sam or whatever their names were made a toast.
“Hold on! Hold on!” Denise stopped them just before they started. “Sharon, did you not get a
glass?”
Everyone looked at Sharon, who was holding a glass of orange juice in her hand.
“Here you go,” Tom said, pouring her a glass.
“No no no! Not for me, thanks,” she said.
“Why not?” Denise huffed, upset that her friend wouldn't celebrate with her.
John and Sharon looked at each other and smiled. “Well, I didn't want to say anything because
it's Denise and Tom's special night . . .”
Everyone urged her to speak.
“Well . . . I'm pregnant! John and I are going to have a baby!”
John's eyes began to water and Holly just froze in shock in her seat. She did not see that one
coming either. Tears filled her eyes as she went over to congratulate Sharon and John. Then she
sat down and took deep breaths. This was all too much.
“So let's make a toast to Tom and Denise's engagement and Sharon and John's baby!”
Everyone clinked glasses and Holly ate dinner in silence, not really tasting anything.
“You want to make that time eleven o'clock?” Daniel asked quietly, and she nodded in
agreement.
After dinner Holly and Daniel made their excuses to leave and nobody really tried to persuade
them to stay.
“How much should I leave toward the bill?” Holly asked Denise.
“Oh, don't worry about it.” She waved her hand at her dismissively.
“No, don't be silly, I couldn't let you pay for it. How much, honestly?”
The woman beside her grabbed the menu and started adding up the price of all the meals they
had bought. There had been so many and Holly had only picked at her own and had even
avoided eating a starter so she could afford it.
“Well, it works out as about fifty each, and that's including all the wine and bottles of
champagne.”
Holly gulped and stared down at the thirty euro in her hand.
Daniel grabbed her hand and pulled her up. “Come on, let's go, Holly.”
She opened her mouth to make the excuse of not bringing as much money as she thought, but
when she opened the palm of her hand and looked at the money, there appeared to be an extra
twenty.
She smiled at Daniel gratefully and they both headed out to the car.
They sat in the car in silence, both thinking about what had happened that night. She wanted to
feel happy for her friends, really she did, but she couldn't shake off the feeling of being left
behind. Everyone else's lives were moving on except hers.
Daniel pulled up outside her house. “Do you want to come in for a tea or coffee or anything?”
She was sure he would say no and was shocked when he undid his seat belt and accepted her
offer. She really liked Daniel, he was very caring and fun to be with, but right now she just
wanted to be alone.
“That was some night, wasn't it?” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. Holly just shook her head
with disbelief. “Daniel, I have known those girls practically all of my life, and I did not see any
of that coming.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I've known Tom for years too and he didn't mention a
thing.”
“Although Sharon wasn't drinking when we were away,” she hadn't listened to a word Daniel
had said, “and she did throw up a few mornings, but she said it was seasickness . . .” She trailed
off and her brain went into overdrive as things started to add up.
“Seasickness?” Daniel asked, confused.
“After our near-death experience,” she explained.
“Oh, right.”
This time neither of them laughed.
“It's funny,” he said, settling down into the couch. Oh no, Holly thought; he's never going to
leave the house now.
“The lads always said that myself and Laura would be the first to get married,” he continued. “I
just didn't think that Laura would be getting married before me.”
“She's getting married?” Holly asked gently.
He nodded and looked away. “He used to be a friend of mine, too,” he laughed bitterly.
“Obviously he's not anymore.”
“Nope,” he shook his head. “Obviously not.”
“Sorry to hear that,” she said genuinely.
“Ah well, we all get our fair share of bad luck. You know that better than anyone.”
“Huh, fair share,” she repeated.
“I know, there's nothing fair about it, but don't worry, we'll have our good luck too.”
“You think?”
“I hope.”
They sat in silence for another while and Holly watched the clock. It was five past twelve. She
really needed to get him out of the house so she could open the envelope.
He read her mind. “So how're the messages from above going?”
Holly sat forward and placed her mug down on the table. “Well, I've another one to open
tonight actually. So . . .” She looked at him.
“Oh right,” he said, jumping to attention. He sat up quickly and put his mug down on the table.
“I better leave you at it so.”
Holly bit her lip, feeling guilty at ushering him out so quickly, but she was also relieved he was
finally going.
“Thanks a million for the lift, Daniel,” she said, following him to the door.
“No problem at all.” He quickly grabbed his coat from the banister and headed out the door.
They gave each other a quick hug.
“See you soon,” she said, feeling like a right bitch, and watched him walk down to his car in the
rain. She waved him off and her guilt immediately faded as soon as she closed the door. “Right
Gerry,” she said as she headed toward the kitchen and picked up the envelope from the table.
“What have you got in store for me this month?”