S I LOVE YOU 41-end

Forty-one
“OK, THIS IS THE LAST one, I promise, girls!” Denise called as her bra was sent flying over
the changing room door.
Sharon and Holly groaned and collapsed onto their chairs again.
“You said that an hour ago,” Sharon complained, kicking off her shoes and massaging her
swollen ankles.
“Yeah, but I mean it this time. I have a really good feeling about this dress,” Denise said, full of
excitement.
“You said that an hour ago too,” Holly grumbled, resting her head back on the chair and closing
her eyes.
“Don't you go falling asleep on me now,” Sharon warned Holly, and her eyes immediately shot
open.
They had been dragged to every single wedding gown boutique in the city and Sharon and Holly
were exhausted, irritated and extremely fed up. Whatever excitement they had felt for Denise
and her wedding had been drained from their systems as Denise tried on dress after dress. And if
Holly heard Denise's irritating squeals one more time she would . . .
“Oooh, I love it!” Denise shrieked.
“OK, here's the plan,” Sharon whispered to Holly. “If she walks out of there looking like a
meringue sitting on a bicycle pump we are going to tell her she looks beautiful.”
Holly giggled. “Oh Sharon, we can't do that!”
“Oooh, wait till you see!” Denise shrieked again.
“On second thought . . .” Holly looked at Sharon miserably.
“OK, are you ready?”
“Yes,” Sharon groaned unenthusiastically.
“Ta-da!” She stepped out of the dressing room and Holly's eyes widened.
“Oh, that's so beautiful on you,” gushed the sales assistant who had been hovering nearby.
“Oh, stop it!” Denise cried. “You're no help to me at all! You've loved every single one of
them.”
Holly looked at Sharon uncertainly and tried not to laugh at the look on her face; she looked like
there was a bad smell in the air.
Sharon rolled her eyes and whispered, “Hasn't Denise ever heard of a thing called commission?”
“What are you two whispering about?” Denise asked.
“Oh, just about how pretty you look.”
Holly frowned at Sharon.
“Oh, do you like it?” Denise squealed again and Holly winced.
“Yes,” Sharon said unenthusiastically.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think Tom will be happy when he looks down the aisle and sees me walking toward
him?” Denise even practiced her walk just so the girls could imagine it.
“Yes,” Sharon repeated.
“But are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think it's worth the money?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“It'll be nicer with a tan, won't it?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, but does it make my bum look enormous?”
“Yes.”
Holly looked at Sharon startled, realizing she wasn't even listening to the questions anymore.
“Oh, but are you sure?” Denise carried on, obviously not even listening to the answers.
“Yes.”
“So will I get it?”
Holly expected the sales assistant to start jumping up and down with excitement screaming
“Yessss!” but she managed to contain herself.
“No!” Holly interrupted before Sharon said yes again.
“No?” Denise asked.
“No,” Holly confirmed.
“Do you not like it?”
“No.”
“Is it because it makes me look fat?”
“No.”
“Do you not think Tom will like it?”
“No.”
“Do you think it's worth the money, though?”
“No.”
“Oh.” She turned to face Sharon. “Do you agree with Holly?”
“Yes.”
The sales assistant rolled her eyes and approached another customer, hoping for better luck with
her.
“OK then, I trust you two,” Denise said, sadly taking one last look at herself in the mirror. “To
be honest I wasn't really that keen on it myself.”
Sharon sighed and put her shoes back on. “OK Denise, you said that was the last one. Let's go
get something to eat before I drop dead.”
“No, I meant it was the last dress I would try on in this shop. There's loads more shops to go to
yet.”
“No way!” Holly protested. “Denise, I am starving to death and at this stage all the dresses are
beginning to look the same to me. I need a break.”
“Oh, but this is my wedding day, Holly!”
“Yes and . . .” Holly tried to think of an excuse. “But Sharon's pregnant.”
“Oh, OK then, we'll get something to eat,” Denise said, disappointed, and headed back to the
changing room.
Sharon elbowed Holly in the ribs. “Hey, I'm not diseased, you know, just pregnant.”
“Oh, it's the only thing that I could think of,” Holly said tiredly.
The three of them trudged into Bewley's Café and managed to grab their usual spot by the
window overlooking Grafton Street.
“Oh, I hate shopping on Saturdays,” Holly moaned, watching as people bumped and crushed
one another on the busy street below.
“Gone are the days of shopping midweek, now you're no longer a lady of leisure,” Sharon
teased, as she picked up a club sandwich and began stuffing her face.
“I know, and I'm so tired, but I feel like I've earned the tiredness this time. Unlike before when I
just used to stay up late watching insomniac TV,” Holly said happily.
“Tell us about the little episode with Gerry's parents,” Sharon said with a mouthful of food.
Holly rolled her eyes. “They were just so rude to poor Daniel.”
“I'm sorry I was asleep. I'm sure if John had known that's what it was about he would have
woken me,” Sharon apologized.
“Oh, don't be silly, it wasn't a really big deal. It just felt like it at the time.”
“Too right. They can't tell you who to see and who not to see,” Sharon gave out.
“Sharon, I'm not seeing him.” Holly tried to get the record straight. “I have no intentions of
seeing anyone for at least another twenty years. We were just having a business dinner.”
“Oooh, a business dinner!” Sharon and Denise giggled.
“Well, it was that and it was also nice to have a bit of company.” Holly smiled. “And I'm not
bitching about you two,” she said quickly before they had a chance to defend themselves. “All
I'm saying is that when everyone else is busy it's nice to have someone else to chat to. Especially
male company, you know? And he's easy to get along with and he makes me feel very
comfortable. That's all.”
“Yeah, I understand,” Sharon nodded. “It's good for you to get out and meet new people
anyway.”
“So did you find out anything else about him?” Denise leaned forward, her eyes sparkling as she
dug for gossip. “He's a bit of a dark horse, that Daniel. Maybe he's hiding some huge secret.
Maybe the ghosts of his army past are coming back to torment him,” Denise joked.
“Eh . . . no, Denise, I don't think so,” Holly laughed. “Unless cleaning his boots in training camp
was a traumatizing event. He didn't last much longer than that,” she explained.
“I love yummy army men,” Denise drooled.
“And DJs,” Sharon added.
“Oh, and DJs of course,” Denise replied, laughing.
“Well, I told him my view about the army anyway,” Holly smiled.
“Oh no, you didn't!” Sharon laughed.
“What's this?” Denise asked.
“So what did he say?” Sharon ignored Denise.
“He just laughed.”
“What's this?” Denise asked again.
“Holly's theory about the army,” Sharon explained.
“And what is it?” Denise asked, intrigued.
“Oh, that fighting for peace is like screwing for virginity.”
The girls burst out laughing.
“Yeah, but you can have hours of endless fun trying,” Denise quipped.
“So you haven't mastered it yet?” Sharon asked.
“No, but at every available chance, we try, you know?” Denise replied, and the girls all giggled.
“Well, Holly, I'm glad you get along with him, because you're going to have to dance with him
at the wedding.”
“Why?” She looked at Denise confused.
“Because it's tradition for the best man to dance with the maid of honor at the wedding,” her
eyes sparkled.
Holly gasped, “You want me to be your maid of honor?”
Denise nodded, full of excitement. “Don't worry, I already asked Sharon and she doesn't mind,”
she assured Holly.
“Oh, I would love to!” Holly said happily. “But Sharon, are you sure you don't mind?”
“Oh, don't worry about me, I'm happy just being a blown-up bridesmaid.”
“You won't be blown up!” Holly laughed.
“Yes I will, I'll be eight months pregnant. I'll need to borrow Denise's marquee to wear as a
dress!”
“Oh, I hope you don't go into labor at the wedding.” Denise's eyes widened.
“Don't worry, Denise, I won't steal the limelight from you on your day.” Sharon smiled, “I won't
be due till the end of January so that'll be weeks later.”
Denise looked relieved.
“Oh, by the way, I forgot to show you the photograph of the baby!” Sharon said excitedly,
rooting through her bag. Finally she pulled out a small photograph of the scan.
“Where is it?” Denise asked, frowning.
“There.” Sharon pointed out the area.
“Whoa! That's one big boy,” Denise exclaimed, moving the picture closer to her face.
Sharon rolled her eyes. “Denise, that's a leg, you fool, we still don't know the sex yet.”
“Oh,” Denise blushed. “Well congratulations, Sharon, it looks like you're having a little alien.”
“Oh stop it, Denise,” Holly laughed. “I think it's a beautiful picture.”
“Good.” Sharon smiled and looked at Denise and Denise nodded at her, “Because I wanted to
ask you something.”
“What?” Holly looked worried.
“Well, John and I would love it if you would be our baby's godmother.”
Holly gasped with shock for the second time and tears filled her eyes.
“Hey, you didn't cry when I asked you to be maid of honor,” Denise huffed.
“Oh Sharon, I would be honored!” Holly said, giving her friend a big hug. “Thank you for
asking!”
“Thank you for saying yes! John will be so delighted!”
“Oh, don't you two start crying,” Denise moaned, but Sharon and Holly ignored her and
continued hugging.
“Hey!” Denise yelled, causing them to jump from their embrace.
“What?!”
Denise pointed out the window: “I can't believe I never noticed that wedding shop over there!
Drink up quick and we'll go there next,” she said excitedly as her eyes darted from dress to
dress.
Sharon sighed and pretended to pass out. “I can't, Denise, I'm pregnant . . .”
Forty-two
“HEY HOLLY, I WAS JUST thinking,” Alice said to Holly as they were reapplying their
makeup“ in the toilets at work before leaving for the day.
“Oh no, did it hurt?” Holly teased.
“Ha-ha,” she said dryly. “No, honestly, I was thinking about the horoscope in this month's
magazine and I think Tracey may have got it eerily right.”
Holly threw her eyes up to heaven. “How?”
Alice put down her lipstick and turned away from the mirror to face Holly. “Well, first there was
the thing about the tall, dark, handsome man who you are now seeing . . .”
“I'm not seeing him, we're just friends,” Holly explained for the millionth time.
Alice rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say. Anyway, then there was the thing . . .”
“I'm not,” Holly repeated.
“Yeah, yeah,” Alice said, disbelieving her. “Well then, there's the . . .”
Holly slammed down her makeup bag. “Alice, I am not seeing Daniel.”
“OK, OK.” She held up her hands defensively, “I get it! You're not seeing him, but please stop
interrupting me and listen!” She waited for Holly to calm down and listen. “OK, so the other
thing she said was that your lucky day is Tuesday, which is today . . .”
“Wow, Alice, I think you're on to something here,” Holly said sarcastically, applying her lip
liner.
“Listen!” Alice said impatiently and Holly shut up. “So she also said that blue was your lucky
color. So today being Tuesday you have been invited by a tall, dark, handsome man to the
launch of Blue Rock.” Alice looked pleased with herself as she summed it all up.
“So what?” Holly said, unimpressed.
“So it's a sign.”
“A sign that the color shirt I happened to be wearing that day was blue, which was why Tracey
chose that particular color, which I happened to be wearing because everything else I owned
was dirty. And she just picked the day off the top of her head. It means nothing, Alice.”
Alice sighed, “Oh ye of little faith.”
Holly laughed. “Well, if I am to believe your little theory, as screwed up as it is, then that also
means that Brian is going to win the lotto and he will also become the object of every woman's
affections.”
Alice bit her lip and looked sheepish.
“What?” Holly asked, knowing something was going through her bizarre little mind.
“Well, Brian won four euro on the scratch card today.”
“Whoopdeedoo,” Holly laughed. “Well, there's still the problem of at least one human being
finding him attractive.”
Alice remained silent.
“What now?” Holly demanded.
“Nothing,” Alice shrugged and smiled.
“You don't!” Holly said, shocked.
“I don't what?” Her face lit up.
“You don't fancy him, do you? You couldn't possibly!”
Alice shrugged. “He's nice, that's all.”
“Oh no!” Holly covered her face with her hands. “You're taking this way too far just to try to
prove a point to me.”
“I'm not trying to prove anything to you,” she laughed.
“Well then, I can't believe you fancy him!”
“Who fancies who?” Tracey asked, walking into the toilet.
Alice shook her head wildly at Holly, begging her not to tell.
“Oh nobody,” Holly muttered, staring at Alice in shock. How could Alice fancy the slimeball of
all slimeballs?
“Hey, did you hear Brian won money on the lotto scratch card today?” Tracey asked them from
the cubicle.
“We were just talking about that,” Alice laughed.
“I just might have psychic powers after all, Holly,” Tracey giggled and flushed the toilet.
Alice winked at Holly in the mirror and Holly headed out of the bathroom. “Come on, Alice, we
better get going to this thing or the photographer will go mad.”
“The photographer's already here,” Alice explained, applying some mascara.
“Where is he?”
“She.”
“Well then, where is she?”
“Ta-da!” Alice announced, taking a camera out of her bag.
“You're the photographer?” Holly laughed. “Well, at least we can both lose our jobs together
when this article is published,” she called over her shoulder as she headed back to her office.
Holly and Alice pushed their way through the crowds in Hogan's pub and made their way
upstairs to Club Diva. Holly gasped as they approached the door. A group of young muscular
males dressed in swimwear were banging out some Hawaiian drumbeats to welcome all the
guests. Some very skinny female models also dressed in skimpy bikinis greeted the girls at the
door by wrapping beautiful multicolored leis around their necks.
“I feel like I'm in Hawaii,” Alice giggled, snapping away with her camera. “Oh my God,” she
exclaimed as they entered the club.
Holly could barely recognize the club; it had been completely transformed. A huge water feature
greeted them as they entered. Aqua blue water cascaded down from some rocks, and it looked
like a miniature waterfall.
“Oh look, Blue Rock!” Alice laughed. “Very clever.”
Holly smiled; so much for her wonderful powers of journalistic observation, she hadn't even
copped that the water was actually the drink itself. Then she panicked; Daniel hadn't told her
anything about this, which meant she would have to adjust the article so she could hand it in to
Chris tomorrow. She looked around the club for Denise and Tom and saw her friend being
photographed as she held her hand up to the camera to show off her sparkly engagement ring.
Holly laughed at the big celebrity couple.
The bar staff were dressed in their bikinis and swimwear and they lined the entrance with trays
of blue drinks in their hands. Holly lifted a drink from the tray and took a sip, trying not to make
a face from its overly sweet taste as a photographer snapped her sipping the hot new drink for
winter. As Daniel had said, the floors were scattered with sand, making it appear as if they were
at a beach party. Each table was sheltered by a huge bamboo umbrella, the bar stools were all
big kettle drums and there was a wonderful barbecue smell in the air. Holly's mouth watered as
she spotted the waiters carrying trays of barbecued food to the tables. She darted to the nearest
table, helped herself to a kebab and took a big bite.
“Oh, so you do eat.” Holly found herself facing Daniel. Chewing valiantly, she swallowed her
food.
“Em, hello. I haven't had a thing to eat all day so I am absolutely starving. The place looks
great,” she said, looking around, keen to distract him from the sight of her with a mouthful of
kebab.
“Yeah, it worked well all right.” He looked pleased. Daniel was slightly more dressed than his
staff members; he wore faded blue jeans and a blue Hawaiian shirt with big pink and yellow
flowers. He still hadn't shaved and Holly wondered how painful it would be to kiss him with
that sharp stubble. Not for her to kiss him, of course. Somebody else . . . and why she was even
wondering about it annoyed her.
“Hey Holly! Let me get a photo of you and tall, dark, handsome man,” Alice yelled, rushing over
with her camera.
Holly was mortified.
Daniel laughed. “You should bring your friends here more often.”
“She's not my friend,” Holly said through gritted teeth and posed beside Daniel for the photo.
“Hold on a second,” Daniel said, covering the camera lens with his hand. He took a napkin from
the table and wiped the grease and barbecue sauce from Holly's face. Holly's skin tingled and
warmth rushed through her body. She convinced herself it was from her face blushing so much.
“Now it's gone,” he said, smiling at her, wrapping his arm around her and facing the camera.
Alice skipped away again and continued to snap all around her. Holly turned to Daniel. “Daniel,
once again I'm really sorry about the other night. Gerry's parents were so rude to you, and I'm
sorry if you felt uncomfortable.”
“Oh, there's no need to apologize again, Holly. In fact, there's no need to apologize at all. I only
felt uncomfortable for you. They shouldn't be able to tell you who to see and who not to see.
Anyway, if you're worried about me then there's no need.” He smiled and placed his hands on
her shoulders as though he were going to say something more, but someone called him from the
bar and he rushed over to sort the problem out.
“But I am not seeing you,” Holly muttered to herself. If she had to convince even Daniel of that
then they certainly had a problem. She hoped he didn't think there was more to the dinner than
there really was. He had called her almost every day since that episode. She realized that she
looked forward to his calls. There was that niggling thing at the back of her mind again. Holly
wandered over to Denise and joined her on the sun bed where she was sipping on the blue
concoction.
“Hey Holly, I saved this for you.” She pointed to the raft in the corner of the room and the two
girls giggled, remembering their big adventure out in the sea while on holiday.
“So what do you think of the hot new drink for winter?” Holly indicated the bottle.
Denise rolled her eyes. “Tacky. I've only had a few and my head is spinning already.”
Alice ran over to Holly dragging an enormously muscular man dressed in tiny little shorts. One
of his biceps was the size of Alice's waist. She handed the camera to Holly. “Take a picture of
the two of us, will you?”
Holly didn't think that these were the kind of photographs Chris was hoping for, but she obliged
Alice.
“It's for the screen saver on my computer at work,” Alice explained to Denise.
Holly enjoyed herself that evening, laughing and chatting with Denise and Tom while Alice ran
around taking photographs of all the half-naked male models. Holly felt guilty for ever being
annoyed by Tom all those months ago at the karaoke competition; he was a sweet guy and he
and Denise made a lovely couple. Holly barely got to speak to Daniel, as he was too busy
running around being the responsible manager. She watched as he gave orders to his staff and
they immediately got to work. It was obvious that his staff had great respect for him. He got
things done. Every time she spotted him heading over to her group, somebody stopped him in
his tracks for an interview or just for a chat. Most of the time, he was stopped by skinny young
girls in bikinis. They annoyed Holly, so she looked away.
“I don't know how I'm going to write this article,” Holly moaned to Alice as they made their
way outside into the cold air.
“Don't worry, Holly, you'll be fine; it's only eight hundred words, isn't it?”
“Yeah, only,” she said sarcastically. “You see, I already wrote a draft article a few days ago
because Daniel gave me all the information. But after seeing all that, I'll have to change it
extensively. It already almost killed me trying to get this version done in the first place.”
“You're really worried about this, aren't you?”
Holly sighed. “I just can't write, Alice. I was never any good at putting things into words and
describing exactly how things are.”
Alice looked thoughtful. “Have you got the article in the office?”
Holly nodded.
“Why don't we go over there now? I'll look over it, and maybe I'll make a few changes if it
needs it.”
“Oh Alice, thank you so much!” Holly said, hugging her with relief.
The following day Holly sat nervously before Chris and watched him read the article. His face
remained grumpy as he turned the page. Alice hadn't just made a few changes to the article, she
had completely rewritten it, and Holly thought it was incredible. It was funny yet informative
and she explained the night exactly as it had been, which Holly was unable to do. Alice was an
extremely talented writer and Holly couldn't understand why she was working at reception in a
magazine office instead of writing for them.
Finally, Chris finished reading and he slowly took off his reading glasses and looked up at Holly.
Holly's hands fidgeted on her lap and she felt like she had just cheated on a school exam.
“Holly, I don't know what you're doing in ad sales,” Chris finally said. “You are a fantastic
writer, I love it! It's cheeky and funny yet it gets the point across. It's fabulous.”
Holly smiled weakly. “Eh . . . thanks.”
“You have such a wonderful talent; I can't believe you tried to hide it from me.”
Holly's smile stayed glued onto her face.
“How would you feel about writing every now and again?”
Holly's face froze. “Well, Chris, I'm really much more interested in the advertising side of
things.”
“Oh, of course, and I will pay you more for this too. But if we are ever stuck again, at least I
know I have another talented writer on the team. Well done, Holly.” He grinned at her and held
out his hand.
“Eh . . . thanks,” Holly repeated, shaking his hand weakly. “I better get back to work now.” She
stood up from her chair and walked stiffly out of the office.
“Well, did he like it?” Alice asked loudly, walking down the hall.
“Eh . . . yeah, he loved it. He wants me to write more.” Holly bit her lip, feeling guilty for taking
all the credit.
“Oh.” Alice looked away. “Well, aren't you the lucky one?” She continued walking to her desk.
Forty-three
DENISE BANGED THE TILL CLOSED with her hip and handed the receipt over the counter
to the customer. “Thanks,” she smiled, and her smile quickly faded as soon as the customer
turned away from the counter. She sighed loudly, staring at the long queue forming in front of
the cash register. She would have to stand here at the till all day and she was just dying for a
cigarette break. But there was no way she could slip away, so she grumpily grabbed the item of
clothing from the next customer, de-tagged it, scanned it, and wrapped it.
“Excuse me, are you Denise Hennessey?” she heard a deep voice ask and she looked up to see
where the sexy voice had come from. She frowned as she saw a police officer before her.
She hesitated while trying to think if she had done anything illegal in the past few days, and
when she was satisfied that she was crime-free she smiled. “Yes, I am.”
“I'm Officer Ryan and I was wondering if you would accompany me to the station, please.”
It was more of a statement than a question, and Denise's mouth dropped open in shock. He was
no longer the sexy officer, he was the evil- lock- her- up- forever- in- a- tiny- cell- with- aluminous-
orange- jumpsuit- and- noisy- flip- flops- and- no- hot- water- or- makeup- type
officer. Denise gulped and had an image of herself being beaten up by a gang of tough angry
women that didn't care about mascara, in the exercise yard at the prison while the prison guards
looked on and made bets over who would win. She gulped, “What for?”
“If you just comply with what I've said, everything will be explained to you down at the
station.” He started to walk around the counter and Denise backed away slowly and looked at
the long line of customers helplessly. Everybody just stared back at her, amused by the scene
that was unfolding before them.
“Check his ID, love,” one of the customers shouted to her from the end of the queue.
Her voice shook as she demanded to see his ID, which was a completely useless operation, as
she had never seen a police ID before nor did she know what a real one would look like. Her
hand trembled as she held the ID and studied it closely, but she didn't read a thing. She was too
self-conscious of the crowd of customers and staff that had gathered to stare at her with looks of
disgust on their faces. They were all thinking the same thing: She was a criminal.
Denise hardened, refusing to go without a fight. “I refuse to go with you until you tell me what
this is about.”
He walked toward her again. “Ms. Hennessey, if you just work with me here, then there will be
no need to use these.” He took out a pair of handcuffs from his trousers. “There's no need to
make a scene.”
“But I didn't do anything!” she protested, starting to panic.
“Well, we can discuss that down at the station, can't we?” He began to get irate.
Denise backed away, she was determined to let her customers and staff know that she hadn't
done anything wrong. She would not go with this man to the station until he explained what
she had supposedly done wrong. She stopped backing away and crossed her arms across her
chest to show how tough she was.
“I said I will not go with you until you tell me what this is about.”
“OK then,” he shrugged, walking toward her. “If you insist.” He opened his mouth to speak and
she yelled as she felt the cold silver handcuffs being slapped around her wrists. It wasn't exactly
the first time she had ever worn a pair of handcuffs, so she wasn't surprised at how they felt, but
she was in so much shock she couldn't speak; she just watched everyone's surprised expressions
as the officer led her by the arm out of the shop.
“Good luck, love,” the customer shouted again as she was led by the queue. “If they send you to
Mount Joy tell my Orla I said hi and that I'll be there to visit her at Christmas.”
Denise's eyes widened and images of her pacing a cell that she shared with a psycho murderer
jumped into her mind. Maybe she would find a little bird with a broken wing and nurse it and
teach it to fly to pass the years inside . . .
Her face reddened as they stepped out onto Grafton Street, and the crowds immediately
scattered as soon as they saw the garda and a hardened criminal. Denise kept her eyes down to
the ground, hoping nobody she knew would spot her being arrested. Her heart beat wildly and
she briefly thought of escape. She looked around quickly and tried to figure out an escape route,
but she was too slow; she was already being led toward a beat-up-looking minibus, the
well-known color blue of the police with blackened-out windows. Denise sat in the front row of
seats behind the driver, and although she could sense people behind her, she sat rigidly in her
seat, too terrified to turn around and meet her future fellow inmates. She leaned her head against
the window and said good-bye to freedom.
“Where are we going?” she asked as they drove past the police station. The female police officer
driving the car and Officer Ryan ignored her and stared ahead of them.
“Hey!” she shouted. “I thought you said you were taking me to the station!” They continued to
stare straight ahead.
“Hey! Where are we going?!”
No answer.
“I haven't done anything wrong!”
Still no answer.
“I'm innocent goddammit! Innocent, I tell you!”
Denise started kicking the chair in front of her, trying to get their attention. Her blood started to
boil when the female officer pushed a cassette into the player and turned the music up. Denise's
eyes widened at the choice of song.
Officer Ryan turned around in his chair with a big grin on his face. “Denise, you have been a
very naughty girl.” He stood up and made his way in front of her. She gulped as he started to
gyrate his hips to the song “Hot Stuff.”
She was about to give him a great big kick between his legs when she heard whooping and
laughing from the back of the bus. She twisted herself around and spotted her sisters, Holly,
Sharon and about five other friends picking themselves up from the floor of the minibus. She
had been in so much shock she hadn't even noticed them when she got on the bus. She finally
figured out what was really happening when her sisters placed a veil on her head while
screaming “Happy hen party!” That was the main clue.
“Oh, you bitches!” Denise spat at them, effing and blinding them until she had used every single
curse word invented, and even made up a few of her own.
The girls continued to hold their stomachs with laughter.
“Oh, you are so lucky I didn't kick you in the balls!” Denise screamed at the gyrating garda.
“Denise, this is Paul,” her sister Fiona giggled, “and he's your stripper for the day.”
Denise narrowed her eyes and continued to curse at them. “I almost had a heart attack, I hope
you know! I thought I was going to prison. Oh my God, what will my customers think? And my
staff! Oh my God, my staff think I'm a criminal.” Denise closed her eyes as though she were in
pain.
“We told them about it last week,” Sharon giggled. “They were all just playing along.”
“Oh, the little bitches,” Denise repeated. “When I go back to work I'm going to fire the lot of
them. But what about the customers?” Denise asked, panicking.
“Don't worry,” her sister said. “We told your staff to inform the customers it was your hen party
after you left the shop.”
Denise rolled her eyes. “Well, knowing them they deliberately won't, and if they don't then there
will be complaints, and if there are complaints I will be so fired.”
“Denise! Stop worrying! You don't think we would have done this without running it by your
boss. It's OK!” Fiona explained. “They thought it was funny, now relax and enjoy the
weekend.”
“Weekend? What the hell are you girls going to do to me next?! Where are we going for the
weekend?” Denise looked around at her friends, startled.
“We're going to Galway, and that's all you need to know,” Sharon said mysteriously.
“If I wasn't bloody handcuffed I'd slap you all in the face,” Denise threatened.
The girls all cheered as Paul stripped out of his uniform and poured baby oil over his body for
Denise to massage into his skin. Sharon unlocked the handcuffs of a gobsmacked Denise.
“Men in uniform are so much nicer out of them . . . ,” Denise mumbled, rubbing her wrists as
she watched him flex his muscles before her.
“Lucky she's engaged, Paul, or you would be in big trouble!” the girls teased.
“Big trouble is right,” Denise mumbled again, staring in shock as the rest of the clothes came
off. “Oh girls! Thank you so much!” she giggled, her voice a very different tone than before.
“Are you OK, Holly? You've barely said a word since we got into this van,” Sharon said,
handing her a glass of champagne and keeping a glass of orange juice for herself. Holly turned to
look out of the window and stared at the green fields as they flew by. The green hills were
dotted with little white specks as the sheep climbed to new heights, oblivious to the wonderful
views. Neat stone walls separated each field and you could see the gray lines, jagged like those
in jigsaw puzzles, for miles, connecting each piece of land together. Holly had yet to find a few
pieces for her own puzzled mind.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I'm OK.”
“Oh, I really have to ring Tom!” Denise groaned, collapsing onto the double bed she and Holly
were sharing in the hotel room. Sharon was fast asleep on the single bed beside them and had
refused to listen to Denise's hilarious idea of Sharon having to sleep in the double bed on her
own due to the size of her rapidly growing bump. She had gone to bed much earlier than the
other girls after eventually becoming bored of their drunken behavior.
“I'm under strict orders not to let you ring Tom,” Holly yawned. “This is a girls-only weekend.”
“Oh please,” Denise whimpered.
“No. I am confiscating your phone.” She grabbed the mobile from Denise's hand and hid it in
the press beside the bed.
Denise looked like she was going to cry. She watched as Holly lay back on the bed and closed
her eyes, and she began to formulate a plan. She would wait until Holly was asleep and then she
would call Tom. Holly had been so quiet all day it was really starting to irritate Denise. Every
time Denise had asked her a question she got nothing but yes or no answers back, and every
attempt to strike up a conversation failed. It was obvious that Holly wasn't enjoying herself, but
what really annoyed Denise was to see that Holly wasn't even trying to enjoy herself, or even
pretending to be enjoying herself. Denise could understand that Holly was upset and that she
had a lot to deal with in her life, but it was her hen party and she couldn't help feeling that Holly
was bringing the atmosphere down a bit.
The room was still spinning. Having closed her eyes, Holly was now unable to sleep. It was five
o'clock in the morning, which meant that she had been drinking for almost twelve hours, and
her head was pounding. Sharon had given in long ago and had done the sensible thing by going
to bed early. Her stomach became queasy as the walls spun around and around and around . . .
She sat up on the bed and tried to keep her eyes open so she could avoid the feeling of
seasickness.
She turned to face Denise on the bed so that they could talk, but the sound of her friend's snores
ended all thought of communication between them. Holly sighed and looked around the room.
She wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep in her own bed, where she could be
surrounded by familiar smells and noises. She felt her way across the bedcovers in the dark for
the remote control and flicked on the television. Commercial presentations adorned the screen.
Holly watched as they demonstrated a new knife to slice oranges without spraying yourself in
the face with the juice. She saw the amazing socks that never got lost in the wash and stayed
together at all times.
Denise snored loudly beside her and she kicked Holly in the shins as she changed position. Holly
winced and rubbed her leg as she watched with sympathy Sharon's extremely frustrated struggle
to lie on her stomach. Eventually she settled on her side and Holly rushed to the toilet and hung
her head over the toilet seat, prepared for whatever might come. She wished she hadn't drunk so
much, but with all the talk of weddings and husbands and happiness she had needed all the wine
in the bar to prevent her from screaming at everyone to shut up. She dreaded to think what the
next two days would be like. Denise's friends were twice as bad as Denise. They were loud and
hyper and acted exactly the way girls should on a hen weekend, but Holly just didn't have the
energy to keep up with them. At least Sharon had the excuse of being pregnant; she could
pretend she wasn't feeling well or that she was tired. Holly had no excuse apart from the fact
that she had turned into a complete bore, and she was saving that excuse for a time when she
really needed it.
It felt like only yesterday that Holly had had her own hen party, but in fact it was more than
seven years ago. She had flown over to London with a group of ten girls for the weekend to
party hard, but she ended up missing Gerry so much she had to speak to him on the phone every
hour. Back then she had been so excited about what was to come and the future had looked so
bright.
She was to marry the man of her dreams and live and grow with him for the rest of their lives.
For the entire weekend she was away she counted the hours until she could return home. She
was so excited on the flight back to Dublin. Although they had been apart for only a few days, it
had felt like an eternity. He had been waiting for her at arrivals with a huge board in his hand
saying MY FUTURE WIFE. She had dropped her bags when she saw him and run into his arms
and hugged him so tight. She had never wanted to let go; what a luxury it was for people to be
able to hold their loved ones whenever they wanted. The scene at the airport seemed like a
scene from a movie now, but it had been real: real feelings, real emotions and real love, because
it was real life. Real life had become a nightmare for her.
Yes, she had finally managed to drag herself out of bed every morning, yes, she even managed
to get dressed most of the time. Yes, she had succeeded in finding a new job where she had met
new people, and yes, she had finally started buying food again and feeding herself. But no, she
didn't feel ecstatic about any of these things. They were just formalities, something else to check
off on the “things that normal people do” list. None of these things filled the hole in her heart; it
was as if her body had become one great jigsaw, just like the green fields with their pretty gray
stone walls connecting the whole of Ireland. She had started working on the corners and the
edges of her jigsaw because they were the easy bits, and now that they were all in place she
needed to do all the bits in between, the hard parts. But nothing she had done so far had
managed to fill that hole in her heart; that piece of the jigsaw had yet to be found.
Holly cleared her throat loudly and pretended to have a coughing fit just so the girls would wake
up and talk to her. She needed to talk, she needed to cry and she needed to vent all her
frustrations and disappointments about her life. But what more could she say to Sharon and
Denise that she hadn't said before? What more advice could they give her that they hadn't given
her before? She repeated the same old worries over and over. Sometimes her friends would
succeed in getting through to her and she would feel positive and confident, only to find herself
thrown back into despair days later.
After a while Holly tired of staring at the four walls, threw on a tracksuit and made her way
back downstairs to the hotel bar.
Charlie groaned with frustration as the table down the back of the bar began to roar with
laughter again. He wiped down the bar counter and glanced at his watch. Five-thirty and he was
still here working and he couldn't wait to go home. He had thought he was so lucky when the
girls from the hen party had eventually gone to bed earlier than expected, and he was about to
tidy up and go home when another gang arrived at the hotel after a nightclub had finished in
Galway city. And they were still here. In fact, he would have preferred if the girls had stayed up
instead of the arrogant crowd sitting down the back. They weren't even residents of the hotel,
but he had to serve them because the group included the daughter of the owner of the hotel,
who had brought all her friends back to the bar. She and her arrogant boyfriend, and he couldn't
stand them.
“Don't tell me you're back for more!” the barman laughed as one of the women from the hen
party walked into the room. She walked toward the bar, bumping into the wall many times as
she tried to make her way to the high stool. Charlie tried not to laugh. “I just came down for a
glass of water,” she hiccuped. “Oh my God,” she wailed, catching sight of herself in the mirror
over the bar. Charlie had to admit that she did look a bit shocking; a bit like the scarecrow in his
dad's farm. Her hair looked like straw and was sticking out in all directions, her eyes had black
circles around them from smudging her mascara, and her teeth were stained from the red wine.
“There you go,” Charlie said, placing a glass of water on a beer mat in front of her.
“Thanks.” She dipped her finger into her glass and wiped the mascara from her eyes and rubbed
the wine stains from her lips.
Charlie began to laugh and she squinted at his name tag.
“What are you laughing at, Charlie?”
“I thought you were thirsty, but I would have given you a facecloth if you'd asked for one,” he
chuckled.
The woman laughed and her features softened. “I find the ice and lemon helps my skin.”
“Well, that's a new one.” Charlie laughed and continued to wipe down the counter. “Did you
girls have fun tonight?”
Holly sighed, “I suppose.” Fun wasn't a word she often used anymore. She had laughed along
with the jokes all night, she had felt excited for Denise, but she didn't feel like she was
completely there. She felt like the shy girl at school who was always just there but never spoke
and was never spoken to. She didn't recognize the person she had become; she wanted to be
able to stop staring at the clock whenever she went out, hoping the night would soon be over so
she could go home and crawl into bed. She wanted to stop wishing time would pass and instead
enjoy the moment. She was finding it hard to enjoy moments.
“Are you OK?” Charlie stopped wiping the counter and watched her. He had a horrible feeling
she was going to cry, but he was used to it at this stage. A lot of people became emotional when
they drank.
“I miss my husband,” she whispered, and her shoulders trembled.
The corners of Charlie's lips turned into a smile.
“What's so funny?” She looked at him angrily.
“How long are you here for?” he asked.
“The weekend,” she told him, twisting a worn tissue around her finger.
He laughed. “Have you never gone the weekend without seeing him?”
He watched the woman frown. “Only once before,” she finally replied, “and that was at my own
hen party.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Seven years ago.” A tear spilled down the woman's face.
Charlie shook his head. “That's a long time ago. Well, if you did it once, you can do it again,” he
smiled. “Seven years lucky, isn't that what they say?”
Holly snorted into her drink. Lucky her arse.
“Don't worry,” Charlie said gently. “Your husband's probably miserable without you.”
“Oh God, I hope not.” Holly's eyes widened.
“Well then, see?” he replied. “I'm sure he hopes you're not miserable without him either. You're
supposed to be enjoying your life.”
“You're right,” Holly said, perking up. “He wouldn't want me to be unhappy.”
“That's the spirit.” Charlie smiled and jumped as he saw his boss's daughter coming toward the
bar with one of those looks on her face.
“Hey Charlie,” she yelled. “I've been trying to get your attention for ages. Maybe if you stopped
chatting to the customers at the bar and did a bit of work, me and my friends wouldn't be so
thirsty,” she said bitchily.
Holly's mouth dropped open with shock. That woman had a nerve speaking to Charlie like that,
and her perfume was so strong it made Holly start to cough lightly.
“I'm sorry, do you have a problem?” The woman's head darted toward Holly, and she looked her
up and down.
“Yes, actually,” Holly slurred, taking a sip of her water. “Your perfume is disgusting and it's
making me want to throw up.”
Charlie dropped to his knees behind the counter to pretend to look for a lemon to slice and
started laughing. He tried to block out the sounds of the two women snapping at each other so
he would stop laughing.
“What's the delay here?” a deep voice inquired. Charlie shot to his feet at the sound of her
boyfriend's voice. He was even worse. “Why don't you sit down, honey, and I'll bring the drinks
over,” he said.
“Fine, at least someone is polite around here,” she snapped, looking Holly up and down once
more before storming off to her table. Holly watched her hips go boom-boom-boom as they
went from side to side. She must be a model or something, Holly decided. That would explain
the tantrums.
“So how are you?” the man beside Holly asked, staring at her chest.
Charlie had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying anything as he poured a pint of
Guinness from the tap and then allowed it to sit on the counter for a while. He had a feeling the
woman at the bar wouldn't succumb to Stevie's charms anyway, especially as she seemed to be
so head over heels about her husband. Charlie was looking forward to seeing Stevie being
ceremoniously dumped.
“I'm fine,” Holly replied shortly, staring straight ahead, deliberately avoiding eye contact.
“I'm Stevie,” he said, holding out his hand to her.
“I'm Holly,” she mumbled and took his hand lightly, not wanting to be overly rude.
“Holly, that's a lovely name.” He held her hand for much too long and Holly was forced to look
up into his eyes. He had big blue sparkly eyes.
“Eh . . . thanks,” she said, embarrassed by his compliment, and her face flushed.
Charlie sighed to himself. Even she had fallen for it, his only hope of satisfaction for the night
gone.
“Can I buy you a drink, Holly?” Steve asked smoothly.
“No thanks, I have one here.” She sipped on her water again.
“OK, well, I'm just going to bring these drinks down to my table and then I'll be back to buy the
lovely Holly a drink.” He smiled at her creepily as he walked away. Charlie rolled his eyes as
soon as he turned his back.
“Who the hell is that eejit?” Holly asked, looking bewildered, and Charlie laughed, delighted
that she hadn't fallen for him. She was a lady with sense even if she was crying because she
missed her husband after only one day of separation.
Charlie lowered his voice, “That's Stevie, boyfriend of that blond bitch who was here a minute
ago. Her dad owns this hotel, which means I can't exactly tell her where to go, although I would
love to. Not worth losing my job over.”
“Definitely worth losing your job over, I should think,” Holly said, staring at the beautiful
woman and thinking nasty thoughts. “Anyway, good night, Charlie.”
“You off to bed?”
She nodded. “It's about time; it's after six,” she tapped on her watch. “I hope you get home
soon,” she smiled.
“I wouldn't bet on it,” he replied and watched her leave the bar. Stevie followed after her and
Charlie, thinking this was suspicious, made his way closer to the door just to make sure she was
OK. The blonde, noticing her boyfriend's sudden departure, left her table and arrived at the door
with Charlie at the same time. They both stared down the corridor in the direction Holly and
Stevie had headed.
The blonde gasped and her hand flew to her mouth.
“Hey!” Charlie called out angrily as he witnessed a distressed Holly pushing a drunken Stevie
away from her. Holly angrily wiped her mouth, disgusted with his attempts to kiss her. She
backed away from him. “I think you've got the wrong idea here, Stevie. Go back to the bar to
your girlfriend.”
Stevie wobbled slightly on his feet and slowly turned to face his girlfriend and an angry Charlie,
who was charging toward them.
“Stevie!” she shrieked. “How could you?!” She ran from the hotel with tears streaming down
her face. She was closely followed by a protesting Stevie.
“Uggghh!” Holly said with disgust to Charlie. “I did not want to do that at all!”
“Don't worry, I believe you,” Charlie said, placing his hand comfortingly on her shoulder. “I saw
what happened through the door.”
“Ah well, thanks very much for coming to my rescue!” Holly complained.
“Got here too late, sorry. But I must admit, I did enjoy her witnessing that,” he laughed,
referring to the blonde, and bit his lip feeling guilty.
Holly smiled as she stared down the corridor at Stevie and his frantic girlfriend screaming and
fighting with each other.
“Oops,” she said, smiling at Charlie.
Holly knocked into everything in the bedroom as she tried to make her way back to her bed in
the darkness. “Ouch!” she yelped, stubbing her toe on the bedpost.
“Sshhh!” Sharon said sleepily and Holly grumbled all the way to her bed.
She tapped Denise on the shoulder continuously until she woke up.
“What? What?” Denise moaned sleepily.
“Here.” Holly forced a mobile phone in Denise's face. “Phone your future husband, tell him you
love him and don't let the girls know.”
The next day Holly and Sharon went for a long walk on the beach just outside Galway city.
Although it was October, the air had warmth in it and Holly didn't need her coat. She stood in a
long-sleeved top and listened to the water gently lapping. The rest of the girls had decided to go
for a liquid lunch and Holly's stomach wasn't quite ready for that today.
“Are you OK, Holly?” Sharon approached her from behind and wrapped her arm around her
friend's shoulders.
Holly sighed. “Every time someone asks me that question, Sharon, I say, 'I'm fine, thank you,'
but to be honest, I'm not. Do people really want to know how you feel when they ask how are
you? Or are they just trying to be polite?” Holly smiled. “The next time the woman across the
road from my house says to me, 'How are you?' I'm going to say to her, 'Well, actually I'm not
very well at all, thank you. I'm feeling a bit depressed and lonely. Pissed off at the world.
Envious of you and your perfect little family but not particularly envious of your husband for
having to live with you.' And then I'll tell her about how I started a new job and met lots of new
people and how I'm trying hard to pick myself up but that I'm now at a loss about what else to
do. Then I'll tell her how it pisses me off when everyone says time is a healer when at the same
time they also say absence makes the heart grow fonder, which really confuses me, because that
means that the longer he's gone the more I want him. I'll tell her that nothing is healing at all
and that every morning I wake up in my empty bed it feels like salt is being rubbed into those
unhealing wounds.” Holly took a deep breath. “And then I'll tell her about how much I miss my
husband and about how worthless my life seems without him. How uninterested I am in getting
on with things without him, and I'll explain how I feel like I'm just waiting for my world to end
so that I can join him. She'll probably just say, 'Oh that's good,' like she always does, kiss her
husband good-bye, hop into her car and drop her kids at school, go to work, make the dinner
and eat the dinner, and go to bed with her husband and she'll have it all done while I'm still
trying to decide what color shirt to wear to work. What do you think?” Holly finally finished
and turned to Sharon.
“Oooh!” Sharon jumped and her arm flew away from Holly's shoulders.
“Oooh?” Holly frowned. “I say all that and all you can say is 'Oooh'?”
Sharon placed her hand over her bump and laughed. “No, you silly, the baby kicked!”
Holly's mouth dropped open.
“Feel it!” Sharon giggled.
Holly placed her hand over Sharon's swollen belly and felt the tiny little kick. Both their eyes
filled with tears.
“Oh Sharon, if only every minute of my life were filled with perfect little moments like this I
would never moan again.”
“But Holly, nobody's life is filled with perfect little moments. And if it were, they wouldn't be
perfect little moments. They would just be normal. How would you ever know happiness if you
never experienced downs?”
“Oooh!” they both shrieked again as the baby kicked for a third time.
“I think this little boy is going to be a footballer like his daddy!” Sharon laughed.
“Boy?” Holly gasped. “You're having a boy?”
Sharon nodded happily and her eyes glistened. “Holly, meet baby Gerry. Gerry, meet your
godmother Holly.”
Forty-four


“HI, ALICE,” HOLLY SAID, HOVERING in front of her desk. Holly had been standing there
for a few minutes now and Alice hadn't said a word yet.
“Hi,” Alice said shortly, refusing to look up at her.
Holly took a deep breath. “Alice, are you mad at me?”
“No,” she said shortly again. “Chris wants to see you in his office again. He wants you to write
another article.”
“Another article?” Holly gasped.
“That's what I said.”
“Alice, why don't you do it?” Holly said softly. “You're a fantastic writer. I'm sure if Chris knew
you could write he would def–”
“He knows,” she interrupted.
“What?” Holly was confused. “He knows you can write?”
“Five years ago I applied for a job as a writer, but this was the only job going. Chris said if I
hung on then maybe something would come up.” Holly wasn't used to seeing the usually chirpy
Alice looking so . . . upset wasn't even the word. She was just angry.
Holly sighed and made her way into Chris's office. She had a sneaking suspicion she would be
writing this one all on her own.
Holly smiled as she flicked through the pages of the November magazine she had worked on. It
would be out in the shops tomorrow, the first of November, and she felt so excited. Her first
magazine would be on the shelves and she could also open Gerry's November letter. Tomorrow
would be a good day.
Although she had only sold the ad space, she felt great pride in being a member of a team that
managed to produce something so professional-looking. It was a far cry from that pathetic
leaflet she had printed up years ago and she giggled at the memory of mentioning it in her
interview. As if it would impress Chris at all. But despite all that she felt she had really proven
herself. She had taken her job by the reins and guided it through to success.
“It's nice to see you looking so happy,” Alice snapped, strolling tartly into Holly's office and
throwing two little scraps of paper onto her desk. “You got two calls while you were out. One
from Sharon and one from Denise. Please tell your friends to call you on your lunch break, as it's
a waste of time for me.”
“OK, thanks,” Holly said, glancing at the messages. Alice had scrawled something completely
illegible, most likely on purpose. “Hey, Alice!” Holly called after her before she slammed the
door behind her.
“What?” she snapped.
“Did you read the article on the launch? The photos and everything turned out great! I'm really
proud,” Holly grinned broadly.
“No, I have not!” Alice said, looking disgusted, and she slammed the door behind her.
Holly giggled and chased her out of the office with the magazine in her hand.
“But look at it, Alice! It's so good! Daniel will be so happy!”
“Well whoopdeedoo for you and Daniel,” Alice snapped, busying herself with random bits of
paper at her desk.
Holly rolled her eyes. “Look, stop being such a baby and read the damn thing!”
“No!” Alice huffed.
“Fine then, you won't see the photo of you with that gorgeous half-naked man then . . .” Holly
turned and walked away slowly.
“Give me that!” Alice snapped the magazine from Holly's hand and flicked through the pages.
Her jaw dropped as she reached the page of the Blue Rock launch.
At the top of the page it read “Alice in Wonderland,” with the photograph of her and the
muscular model that Holly had taken.
“Read it out loud,” Holly ordered.
Alice's voice shook as she began to read: “A new Alco pop has hit the shelves and our party
correspondent Alice Goodyear went to find out if the hot new drink for winter was as it claimed
to be . . .” She trailed off and her hands flew to her mouth in shock. “Party correspondent?” she
squealed.
Holly called Chris out of his office and he came out to join them, a broad grin on his face.
“Well done, Alice; that was a fantastic article you wrote. It was very amusing,” he told her with
a pat on the shoulder. “So I created a new page called Alice in Wonderland where you will go to
all the weird and wonderful things you love to go to and write about them every month.”
Alice gasped at them and stuttered, “But Holly . . .”
“Holly can't spell,” Chris laughed. “You, on the other hand, are a great writer. One I should
have used before now. I'm very sorry, Alice.”
“Oh my God!” she gasped, ignoring him. “Thank you so much, Holly!” She threw her arms
around her and squeezed her so hard Holly couldn't breathe.
Holly tried to pull Alice's arms away from around her neck and gasped for air. “Alice, this was
the hardest secret to keep from anyone ever!”
“It must have been! How on earth didn't I notice this?” Alice looked at Holly, startled, then
turned to Chris. “Five years, Chris,” she said accusingly.
Chris winced and nodded.
“I waited five years for this,” she continued.
“I know, I know.” Chris looked like a chastised schoolboy and he scratched his eyebrow
awkwardly. “Why don't you step into my office now and we can talk about that.”
“I suppose I could do that,” Alice replied sternly, but she couldn't hide the glint of happiness in
her eyes. As Chris headed toward his office, Alice turned to Holly and winked before doing a
quick skip behind him.
Holly made her way back to her own office. Time to get working on the December edition.
“Oops!” she said, tripping over a pile of handbags lying outside her door. “What's all this?”
Chris made a face as he stepped out of his office to make Alice a cup of tea for a change. “Oh
they're John Paul's handbags.”
“John Paul's handbags?” Holly giggled.
“It's for the article he's doing on this season's handbags, or something stupid like that.” Chris
pretended not to have an interest.
“Oh, they're gorgeous,” Holly said, bending down to pick one up.
“Nice, aren't they?” John Paul said, leaning against the door frame of his office.
“Yeah, I love this one,” Holly said, sliding it over her shoulder. “Does it suit me?”
Chris made another face. “How can a handbag not suit someone; it's a handbag for Christ's
sake!”
“Well then, you'll have to read the article I'm writing next month, won't you?” John Paul
wagged a finger at his boss, “Not all handbags suit everyone, you know.” He turned to Holly,
“You can have it if you want.”
“For keeps?” she gasped. “This must cost hundreds.”
“Yeah, but I've got loads of them, you should see the amount of stuff the designer gave me.
Trying to sweeten me up with freebies; the cheek of him!” John Paul pretended to be outraged.
“I bet it works, though,” Holly said.
“Absolutely, the first line of my article will be: Everybody go out and buy one, they're fab!” he
laughed.
“What else have you got?” Holly tried to peek behind him into the office.
“I'm doing an article on what to wear for all the Christmas parties coming up. A few dresses
arrived today. In fact,” he looked her up and down and Holly sucked in her belly, “there's one
that would look fab on you, come in and try it on.”
“Oh goody,” Holly giggled. “I'll just have a look, though, John Paul, because to be honest, I
have no need for a party dress this year.”
Overhearing the exchange, Chris shook his head and yelled from his office, “Does anybody in
this bloody office ever do any work?”
“Yes!” Tracey yelled back. “Now shut up and don't be distracting us.” Everyone in the office
laughed and Holly could swear she saw Chris smile before he slammed his office door shut for
dramatic effect.
After searching through John Paul's collection, Holly went back to work and eventually called
Denise back.
“Hello? Disgusting, stuffy and ridiculously expensive clothes shop. Pissed off manager speaking,
how can I help you?”
“Denise!” Holly gasped. “You can't answer the phone like that!”
Denise giggled, “Oh don't worry, I have caller ID so I knew it was you.”
“Hmmm.” Holly was suspicious; she didn't think Denise had caller ID on her work phone. “I got
a message you called earlier.”
“Oh yeah, I was just ringing you to confirm you were going to the ball; Tom is going to buy a
table this year.”
“What ball?”
“The Christmas ball we go to every year, you dope.”
“Oh yeah, the Christmas ball they always hold in the middle of November?” Holly laughed.
“Sorry, but I can't make it this year.”
“But you don't even know what date it's on yet!” Denise protested.
“Well, I assume it's being held on the same date as every other year, which means I can't make
it.”
“No, no, it's on the thirtieth of November this year, so you can make it!” Denise said excitedly.
“Oh, the thirtieth . . .” Holly paused and pretended to flick through some pages on her desk very
loudly. “No Denise, I can't, sorry. I'm busy on the thirtieth. I have a deadline . . . ,” she lied.
Well, she did have a deadline, but the magazine would be out in the shops on the first of
December, which meant she really didn't need to be in work on the thirtieth at all.
“But we don't have to be there till at least eight o'clock,” Denise tried to convince her. “You
could even come at nine if it was easier, you would just miss the drinks reception first. It's on a
Friday night, Holly, they can't expect you to work late on a Friday . . .”
“Look Denise, I'm sorry,” Holly said firmly. “I'm just far too busy.”
“Well that makes a change,” she muttered under her breath.
“What did you say?” Holly asked, getting slightly angry.
“Nothing,” Denise said shortly.
“I heard you; you said that makes a change, didn't you? Well, it just so happens that I take my
work seriously, Denise, and I have no plans to lose my job over a stupid ball.”
“Fine then,” Denise huffed. “Don't go.”
“I won't!”
“Fine!”
“Good, well I'm glad that's fine with you, Denise.” Holly couldn't help but smile at the
ridiculousness of the conversation.
“I'm glad you're glad,” Denise huffed.
“Oh, don't be so childish, Denise.” Holly rolled her eyes. “I have to work, simple as that.”
“Well, that's no surprise, that's all you ever do these days,” Denise blurted out angrily. “You
never come out anymore; every time I ask you out you're busy doing something apparently much
more important, like work. At my hen weekend you looked like you were having the worst time
of your life, and then you didn't even bother coming out the second night. In fact, I don't know
why you bothered to come at all. If you have a problem with me, Holly, I wish you would just
say it to my face instead of being such a miserable bore!”
Holly sat in shock and stared at the phone. She couldn't believe Denise had said those things.
She couldn't believe Denise could be so stupid and selfish to think that this whole thing was
about her and not Holly's own private worries. No wonder she felt like she was going insane,
when one of her best friends couldn't even understand her.
“That is the most selfish thing I have ever heard anyone say.” Holly tried to control her voice
but she knew her anger was spilling out into her words.
“I'm selfish?” Denise squealed. “You're the one who hid in the hotel room on my hen's
weekend! My hen's weekend! You're supposed to be my maid of honor!”
“I was in the room with Sharon, you know that!” Holly defended herself.
“Oh bullshit! Sharon would have been fine on her own. She's pregnant, not bloody dying. You
don't need to be by her side twenty-four-seven!”
Denise went quiet as she realized what she had said.
Holly's blood boiled, and as she spoke her voice shook with rage, “And you wonder why I don't
go out with you. Because of stupid, insensitive remarks like that. Did you ever think for one
moment that it might be hard for me? The fact that all you talk about are your bloody wedding
arrangements and how happy you are and how excited you are and how you can't wait to spend
the rest of your life with Tom in wedded bliss. In case you hadn't noticed, Denise, I didn't get
that chance because my husband died. But I am very happy for you, really I am. I'm delighted
you're happy and I'm not asking for any special treatment at all, I'm just asking for a bit of
patience and for you to understand that I will not get over this in a few months! As for the ball, I
have no intention of going to a place that Gerry and I had been going to together for the past
ten years. You might not understand this, Denise, but funnily enough I would find it a bit
difficult, to say the least. So don't book a ticket for me, I am perfectly happy staying at home,”
she yelled and slammed the phone down. She burst into tears and lay her head down on the desk
as she sobbed. She felt lost. Her best friend couldn't even understand her. Maybe she was going
mad. Maybe she should be over Gerry already. Maybe that's what normal people did when their
loved ones died. Not for the first time she thought she should have bought the rule book for
widows to see what the recommended time for grieving was so she wouldn't have to keep on
inconveniencing her family and friends.
Her weeping eventually died down into little sobs and she listened to the silence around her.
She realized that everyone must have heard everything she'd said and she felt so embarrassed
she was afraid to go to the bathroom for a tissue. Her head was hot and her eyes felt swollen
from all her tears. She wiped her teary face on the end of her shirt.
“Shit!” she swore, swiping some papers off her desk as she realized she had smudged
foundation, mascara and lipstick all along the sleeve of her 'spensive white shirt. She sat up to
attention as she heard a light rapping sound on her door.
“Come in,” her voice shook.
Chris entered her office with two cups of tea in his hands.
“Tea?” he offered, raising his eyebrows at her, and she smiled weakly, remembering the joke
they had shared on the day of her interview. He placed the mug down in front of her and relaxed
in the chair opposite.
“Having a bad day?” he asked as gently as his gruff voice could.
She nodded as tears rolled down her face. “I'm sorry, Chris.” She waved a hand as she tried to
compose herself. “It won't affect my work,” she said shakily.
He waved his hand dismissively. “Holly, I'm not worried about that, you're a great worker.”
She smiled, grateful for the compliment. At least she was doing something right.
“Would you like to go home early?”
“No thanks, work will keep my mind off things.”
He shook his head sadly. “That's not the way to go about it, Holly. I should know that, of all
people. I've buried myself inside these walls and it doesn't help things. Not in the long run
anyway.”
“But you seem happy,” her voice trembled.
“Seeming and being are not one and the same. I know you know that.”
She nodded sadly.
“You don't have to put on a brave face all the time, you know.” He handed her a tissue.
“Oh, I'm not brave at all.” She blew her nose.
“Ever hear the saying that you need to be scared to be brave?”
Holly thought about that. “But I don't feel brave, I just feel scared.”
“Oh, we all feel scared at times. There's nothing wrong with that and there will come a day
when you will stop feeling scared. Look at all you've done!” He held his hands up displaying her
office. “And look at all this!” He flicked through the pages of the magazine. “That's the work of
a very brave person.”
Holly smiled, “I love the job.”
“And that's great news! But you need to learn to love more than your job.”
Holly frowned. She hoped this wasn't one of those get-over-one-man-by-sleeping-under-another
type chats.
“I mean learn to love yourself, learn to love your new life. Don't just let your entire life revolve
around your job. There's more to it than that.”
Holly raised her eyebrows at him. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.
“I know I'm not the greatest example of that,” he nodded. “But I'm learning too . . .” He placed
his hand on the table and started to brush away imaginary crumbs while he thought about what
to say next. “I heard you don't want to go to this ball.”
Holly cringed at the fact he had heard her phone conversation.
Chris continued. “There were a million places I refused to go to when Maureen died,” he said
sadly. “We used to go for walks in the Botanic Gardens every Sunday, and I just couldn't go
there anymore after I lost her. There were a million little memories contained in every flower and
tree that grew in there. The bench we used to sit on, her favorite tree, her favorite rose garden,
just everything about it reminded me of her.”
“Did you go back?” Holly asked, sipping the hot tea, feeling it warm her insides.
“A few months ago,” he said sadly. “It was a difficult thing to do but I did it and now I go every
Sunday again. You have to confront things, Holly, and think of things positively. I say to myself,
this is a place we used to laugh in, cry in, fight in, and when you go there and remember all
those beautiful times you feel closer to your loved one. You can celebrate the love you had
instead of hiding from it.”
He leaned forward in his chair and stared directly into her eyes. “Some people go through life
searching and never find their soul mates. They never do. You and I did, we just happened to
have them for a shorter period of time. It's sad, but it's life! So you go to this ball, Holly, and you
embrace the fact that you had someone whom you loved and who loved you back.”
Tears trickled down Holly's face as she realized he was right. She needed to remember Gerry
and be happy about the love they shared and the love she still continued to feel; but not to cry
about them, not to yearn for the many more years with him that would never come. She thought
of the line he had written in his last letter to her, “Remember our wonderful memories, but
please don't be afraid to make some more.” She needed to put the ghost of Gerry that haunted
her to rest but to keep his memory alive.
There was still life for her after his death.
Forty-five
“I'M SO SORRY, DENISE,” HOLLY apologized to her friend. They were sitting in the staff
room of Denise's workplace surrounded by boxes of hangers, rails of clothes, bags and
accessories, which were untidily strewn around the room. There was a musty smell in the air
from the dust that had landed on the rails and rails of clothes that had been sitting out for so
long. A security camera attached to the wall stared at them and recorded their conversation.
Holly watched Denise's face for a reaction and saw her friend purse her lips and nod her head
wildly, as if to let Holly know it was OK.
“No, it's not OK.” Holly sat forward in her chair, trying to have a serious discussion. “I didn't
mean to lose my temper on the phone. Just because I'm feeling extrasensitive these days, it
doesn't give me the right to take it out on you.”
Denise looked brave enough to finally speak. “No, you were right, Holly . . .”
Holly shook her head and tried to disagree but Denise kept on talking, “I've been so excited
about this wedding that I didn't stop to think about how you might be feeling.” Her eyes rested
on her friend, whose face looked pale against her dark jacket. Holly was doing so well it was
easy for them all to forget that she still had ghosts to be rid of.
“But you're right to be excited,” Holly insisted.
“And you're right to be upset,” Denise said firmly. “I didn't think, I just didn't think.” She held
her hands to her cheeks as she shook her head. “Don't go to the ball if you don't feel
comfortable. We will all understand.” She reached out to hold her friend's hands.
Holly felt confused. Chris had succeeded in convincing her to go to the ball, but now her best
friend was saying it was OK not to go. She had a headache, and headaches scared her. She
hugged Denise good-bye in the shop, promising to call her later to give her a decision about the
ball.
She headed back to the office feeling even more unsure than before. Maybe Denise was right, it
was only a stupid ball and she didn't have to go if she didn't want to. However, it was a stupid
ball that was hugely representative of Holly and Gerry's time together. It was a night they had
both enjoyed, a night they would share with their friends and an opportunity to dance to their
favorite songs. If she went without him she would be destroying that tradition, replacing happy
memories with an entirely different one. She didn't want to do that. She wanted to hang on to
every single shred of memory of the two of them together. It was scaring her that she was
forgetting his face. When she dreamed about him he was always somebody else; a person she
made up in her mind with a different face and a different voice.
Now and again she rang his mobile phone just to hear his voice on his answering machine, she
had even been paying the mobile company every month just to keep his account open. His smell
had faded from the house; his clothes long gone under his own orders. He was fading from her
mind, and she clung to every little bit of him that she could. She deliberately thought about him
every night right before she went to sleep just so that she would dream about him. She even
bought his favorite aftershave and splashed it around the house so she wouldn't feel so alone.
Sometimes she would be out and a familiar smell or song would transport her back to another
time and place. A happier time.
She would catch a glimpse of him walking down the street or driving by in a car and she would
chase that person for miles only to discover it wasn't him; just a look-alike. She couldn't seem to
let go. She couldn't let go because she didn't want to let go, and she didn't want to let go
because he was all she had. But she didn't really have him, so she felt lost and confused.
Just before reaching the office Holly poked her head into Hogan's. She was feeling much more
at ease with Daniel. Since that dinner where she had felt so uncomfortable in his company, she
had realized that she was being ridiculous. She understood now why she had felt that way.
Before, the only close friendship she had ever had with a man was with Gerry, and that was a
romantic relationship. The idea of becoming so close to Daniel seemed strange and unusual.
Holly had since convinced herself that there didn't need to be a romantic link for her to share a
friendship with an unattached man. Even if he was good-looking.
And the ease she felt had become a feeling of companionship. She had felt that from the
moment she'd met him. They could talk for hours discussing her feelings, her life, his feelings,
his life, and she knew that they had a common enemy: loneliness. She knew that he was
suffering from a different kind of grief and they were helping each other through the difficult
days, when they needed a caring ear or someone to make them laugh. And there were many of
those days.
“Well?” he said, walking around from behind the bar. “Will Cinderella go to the ball?”
Holly smiled and scrunched up her nose, about to tell him that she wouldn't be going, when she
stopped herself. “Are you going?”
He smiled and scrunched up his nose and she laughed. “Well, it's going to be another case of
Couples 'R' Us. I don't think I could cope with another night of Sam and Samantha or Robert
and Roberta.” He pulled out a high stool for her at the bar and she sat down.
Holly giggled, “Well, we could just be terribly rude and ignore them all.”
“Then what would be the point in going?” Daniel sat beside her and rested his leather boot on
the footrest of her chair. “You don't expect me to talk to you all night, do you? We've talked the
ears off each other by now; maybe I'm bored of you.”
“Fine then!” Holly pretended to be insulted. “I was planning on ignoring you anyway.”
“Phew!” Daniel wiped his brow and pretended to look relieved. “I'm definitely going then.”
Holly became serious. “I think I really need to be there.”
Daniel stopped laughing. “Well then, we shall go.”
Holly smiled at him. “I think it would be good for you too, Daniel,” she said softly.
His foot dropped from her chair and he turned his head away from her to pretend to survey the
lounge. “Holly, I'm fine,” he said unconvincingly.
Holly hopped off her chair, held him by the cheeks and kissed him roughly on the forehead.
“Daniel Connelly, stop trying to be all macho and strong. It doesn't wash with me.”
They hugged each other good-bye and Holly marched back to her office, determined not to
change her mind again. She banged loudly up the stairs and marched straight by Alice, who was
still staring dreamily at her article. “John Paul!” Holly yelled. “I need a dress, quick!”
Forty-six
HOLLY WAS RUNNING LATE AS she rushed around her bedroom trying to get dressed for
the ball. She had spent the past two hours applying her makeup, crying and smudging it and
then reapplying it. She rolled the mascara brush over her eyelashes for the fourth time, praying
the tear reservoir had run dry for the night. An unlikely prospect, but a girl could always hope.
“Cinderella, your prince has arrived!” Sharon yelled upstairs to Holly.
Holly's heart raced, she needed more time. She needed to sit down and rethink the idea of going
to the ball all over again, as she had completely forgotten her reasons for going. Now she was
faced with only the negatives.
Reasons not to go: She didn't want to go at all, she would spend all night crying, she would be
stuck at a table full of so-called friends who hadn't talked to her since Gerry had died, she felt
like shit, she looked like shit and Gerry wouldn't be there.
Reasons to go: She had an overwhelming feeling that she needed to go.
She breathed slowly, trying to prevent a whole new batch of tears from appearing.
“Holly, be strong, you can do this,” she whispered to her reflection in the mirror. “You need to
do this, it will help you, it will make you stronger.” She repeated this over and over again until a
creak at the door made her jump.
“Sorry,” Sharon apologized, appearing from around the door. “Oh Holly, you look fabulous!”
she said excitedly.
“I look like shit,” Holly grumbled.
“Oh, stop saying that,” Sharon said angrily. “I look like a blimp and do you hear me
complaining? Accept the fact that you're a babe!” She smiled at her in the mirror, “You'll be
fine.”
“I just want to stay home tonight, Sharon. I have to open Gerry's last message.” Holly couldn't
believe the time had come to open the last one. After tomorrow there would be no more kind
words from Gerry, and she still felt that she needed them. In all her excitement back in April,
she couldn't wait for the months to pass so that she could rip the envelopes open and read that
perfect handwriting, but she had wished the months away all too quickly and now it was the
end. She wanted to stay in that night and savor their last special moment.
“I know,” Sharon said, understanding. “But that can wait for a few hours, can't it?”
Holly was just about to say no when John shouted up the stairs. “Come on, girls! The taxi's
waiting! We have to collect Tom and Denise!”
Before Holly followed Sharon downstairs she slid open the drawer of her dressing table and
took out the November letter from Gerry she had opened weeks ago. She needed his words of
encouragement to help her out now. She ran her fingers over the ink and pictured him writing it.
She pictured the face he made when he wrote that she always used to tease him about. It was a
face of pure concentration; his tongue even licked his lips as he wrote. She loved that face. She
missed that face. She slid the card from the envelope. She needed strength from this letter, and
she knew she would find it. Every day, she read:
Cinderella must go to the ball this month. And she will look glamorous and beautiful and have
the time of her life just like always . . . But no white dresses this year . . .
PS, I love you . . .
Holly took a deep breath and followed Sharon downstairs.
“Wow,” Daniel said, his mouth dropping open. “You look fabulous, Holly.”
“I look like shit,” Holly grumbled, and Sharon shot her a look. “But thanks,” she quickly added.
John Paul had helped her choose a simple black halter-neck dress, with a split to the thigh up
the middle. No white dresses this year.
They all piled into the seven-seater taxi, and as they approached each set of traffic lights Holly
prayed that they would turn red. No such luck. For once the traffic on the streets of Dublin
cleared, and after picking up Tom and Denise, they made it to the hotel in record time. Despite
her prayers, a mud slide didn't cascade down the Dublin Mountains and no volcano erupted.
Hell refused to freeze over too.
They stepped up to the table just inside the door of the function room and Holly looked to the
ground as she felt all eyes in their direction from the women eager to see how the newcomers
were dressed. When they were satisfied that they were still the most beautiful people there, they
turned away and continued their conversations. The woman sitting behind the desk smiled as
they approached her. “Hello Sharon, hello John, hi Denise . . . oh gosh!” Her face might actually
have gone whiter under her streaky fake-tanned face, but Holly couldn't be sure. “Oh hello,
Holly, it's so good of you to come considering . . .” She trailed off and quickly flicked through
the guest list to tick off their names.
“Let's go to the bar,” Denise said, linking her arm in Holly's and dragging her away from the
woman.
As they walked across the room to the bar a woman Holly hadn't spoken to for months
approached her. “Holly, I was sorry to hear about Gerry. He was a lovely man.”
“Thank you.” Holly smiled and was dragged away again by Denise. They finally reached the bar.
“Hi there, Holly,” a familiar voice behind her said.
“Oh hello, Paul,” she said, turning to face the large businessman who sponsored the charity. He
was tall and overweight with a bright red face, probably due to the stress of running one of
Ireland's most successful businesses. That and the fact that he drank too much. He looked like
he was choking underneath the tightness of his bow tie and he pulled at it, looking
uncomfortable. The buttons on his tuxedo looked like they were about to pop any moment.
Holly didn't know him very well; he was just one of the people she knew from meeting at the
ball every year.
“You're looking as lovely as always.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Can I get you a drink?”
he asked, holding his hand up to attract the barman's attention.
“Oh no, thanks,” she smiled.
“Ah let me,” he said, taking his bulging wallet out of his pocket. “What'll you have?”
Holly gave in, “A white wine then, please, if you insist.” She smiled.
“I might as well get a drink for that miserable husband of yours,” he laughed. “What's he
having?” he asked, searching the room for him.
“Oh, he's not here, Paul,” Holly said, feeling uncomfortable.
“Ah why not? The dryshite. What's he up to?” Paul asked loudly.
“Em, he passed away early in the year, Paul,” Holly said gently, hoping not to embarrass him.
“Oh,” Paul reddened even more and he cleared his throat nervously. He stared down at the bar.
“I'm very sorry to hear that,” he stuttered and looked away. He pulled at his bow tie again.
“Thank you,” Holly said, counting the seconds in her head till he made an excuse to leave the
conversation. He left after three seconds, saying he had to bring his wife her drink. Holly was
left standing at the bar alone, as Denise had made her way back to the group with their drinks.
She picked up her glass of wine and headed over.
“Hi, Holly.”
She turned to see who had called her name.
“Oh, hello, Jennifer.” She was faced with another woman she knew only from attending the
ball. She was dressed in an over-the-top ball gown, dripping in expensive jewelry, and she held a
glass of champagne between the thumb and forefinger of her gloved hand. Her blond hair was
almost white, and her skin was dark and leathery as a result of too much sun.
“How are you? You look fab, the dress is fab!” She sipped on her champagne and looked Holly
up and down.
“I'm fine, thank you, you?”
“I'm just fab, thanks. Gerry not with you tonight?” she looked around the room for him.
“No, he passed away in February,” she repeated gently.
“Oh gosh, I'm so sorry to hear that.” She placed her glass of champagne down on the table next
to them and her hands flew to her face, her forehead creasing with worry. “I had no idea. How
are you keeping, you poor love?” she reached out and placed her hand on Holly's arm.
“I'm fine, thank you,” Holly repeated, smiling to keep the atmosphere light.
“Oh, you poor thing.” Jennifer's voice was hushed and she looked at her pityingly. “You must
be devastated.”
“Well yes, it is hard, but I'm dealing with it. Trying to be positive, you know?”
“Gosh, I don't know how you can be, that's awful news.” Her eyes continued to bore into Holly.
She seemed to look at her differently now. Holly nodded along and wished this woman would
stop telling her what she already knew.
“And was he ill?” she probed.
“Yes, he had a brain tumor,” she explained.
“Oh dear, that's awful. And he was so young.” Every word she emphasized became a
high-pitched screech.
“Yes he was . . . but we had a happy life together, Jennifer.” She once again tried to keep the
atmosphere positive, a concept she didn't think this woman was aware of.
“Yes you did, but what a shame it wasn't a longer life. That's devastating for you. Absolutely
awful and so unfair. You must feel miserable. And how on earth did you come here tonight?
With all these couples around?” She looked around at all the couples as though there were
suddenly a bad smell in the air.
“Well, you just have to learn to move on,” Holly smiled.
“Of course you do. But it must be so difficult. Oh, how awful.” She held her gloved hands up to
her face, looking appalled.
Holly smiled and spoke through gritted teeth, “Yes, it's difficult, but like I said you just have to
stay positive and move on. Anyway, speaking of moving on, I better go and join my friends,”
she said politely and dashed off.
“You all right?” Daniel asked as she joined her friends.
“Yes I'm fine, thank you,” she repeated for the tenth time that night. She glanced over at
Jennifer, who was in a huddle with her female friends talking and staring over at Holly and
Daniel.
“I have arrived!” a loud voice announced at the door. Holly turned around to see Jamie, the
party animal, standing at the door with his arms held high in the air. “I have once again dressed
in my penguin suit and I am ready to partaaay!” He did a little dance before joining the group,
attracting stares from around the room. Just what he wanted. He made his way around their
circle greeting the men with a handshake and the women with a kiss on the cheek, sometimes
“hilariously” switching the gesture. He paused when he got to Holly and he glanced back and
forth from Holly to Daniel a couple of times. He shook Daniel's hand stiffly, pecked Holly on
the cheek quickly as though she were diseased, and rushed off. Holly tried to swallow the lump
in her throat angrily. That had been very rude.
His wife, Helen, smiled timidly over at Holly from across the other side of their circle but didn't
come over. Holly wasn't surprised. It had obviously been too difficult for them to drive ten
minutes down the road to visit Holly after Gerry died, so she would hardly expect Helen to take
ten steps toward her to say hello. She ignored them and turned to talk to her real friends, the
people who had supported her for the past year.
Holly was laughing at one of Sharon's stories when she felt a light tapping on her shoulder. She
turned around mid-laughter to face a very sad-looking Helen.
“Hi, Helen,” she said happily.
“How are you?” Helen said quietly, touching Holly gently on the arm.
“Oh I'm fine,” Holly nodded. “You should listen to this story, it's very funny.” She smiled and
continued to listen to Sharon.
Helen left her hand on Holly's arm and eventually tapped her again after a few minutes. “I mean,
how are you since Gerry . . .”
Holly gave up listening to Sharon.
“Since Gerry died, do you mean?” Holly understood that people sometimes felt awkward about
these situations. Holly often did too, but she felt that if someone had brought the subject up
themselves they could at least be adult enough to carry the conversation through properly.
Helen appeared to wince at Holly's question. “Well yes, but I didn't want to say . . .”
“It's OK, Helen; I've accepted that that's what happened.”
“Have you?”
“Of course I have,” Holly frowned.
“It's just that I haven't seen you for a very long time so I was beginning to get worried . . .”
Holly laughed. “Helen, I still live around the corner from you in the same house as before, my
home phone number is still the same, as is my mobile number. If you were ever that worried
about me I was never that difficult for you to find.”
“Oh yes, but I didn't want to intrude . . .” She trailed off as if that were her explanation for not
seeing Holly since the funeral.
“Friends don't intrude, Helen,” Holly said politely, but she hoped she had gotten her message
across.
Helen's cheeks blushed slightly and Holly turned away to answer Sharon.
“Keep me a seat beside you, will you? I just need to run to the ladies again,” Sharon asked,
doing a little dance on the spot.
“Again?” Denise blurted out. “You were just there five minutes ago!”
“Yes, well, this tends to happen when you have a seven-month-old baby pushing down on your
bladder,” she explained before waddling off to the toilet.
“It's not actually seven months old, though, is it?” Denise said, scrunching her face up.
“Technically it's minus two months, because otherwise that would mean that the baby would be
nine months old when he was born and then they would be celebrating his first birthday after
only three months. And usually babies are walking by the time they're one.”
Holly frowned at her. “Denise, why do you torment yourself with thoughts like that?”
Denise frowned and turned to Tom, “I'm right though, aren't I, Tom?”
“Yes love,” he smiled sweetly at her.
“Chicken,” Holly teased Tom.
The bell was rung, signaling that it was time to take their places in the dining area and the
crowds began to swarm in. Holly took her seat and placed her new handbag down on the chair
beside her to reserve it for Sharon. Helen wandered over and pulled out the chair to sit down.
“Sorry Helen, but Sharon asked me to save this seat for her,” Holly explained politely.
Helen waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, Sharon won't mind,” she said, plonking herself down
on the chair and squashing Holly's new handbag. Sharon made her way over to the table and
stuck out her bottom lip in disappointment. Holly apologized and motioned over to Helen as her
excuse. Sharon rolled her eyes and stuck her fingers in her mouth and pretended to gag. Holly
giggled.
“Well, you're in high spirits,” Jamie announced to Holly, sounding very unimpressed.
“Is there any reason why I shouldn't be?” Holly replied tartly.
Jamie answered with some smart retort that a few people laughed at because he was “so funny,”
and Holly ignored him. She didn't find him funny anymore, though she and Gerry had always
been among those people who hung on his every word. Now he was just being stupid.
“Are you OK?” Daniel asked quietly from beside her.
“Yes I'm fine, thank you,” she replied, taking a sip of wine.
“Oh, you don't have to give me that bullshit answer, Holly. It's me,” he laughed.
Holly smiled and groaned. “People are being very nice and all by offering me their sympathies,”
she lowered her voice to a whisper so Helen couldn't hear, “but I feel like I'm back at his funeral
again. Having to pretend to be all strong and superwoman-like even though all some of them
want is for me to be devastated because it's so awful.” She mimicked Jennifer and rolled her
eyes. “And then there are the people who don't know about Gerry and this is so not the place to
have to tell them.” Daniel listened to her patiently.
He nodded when she finally stopped talking. “I understand what you're saying. When Laura and
I broke up I felt that for months everywhere I went I was telling people that we had broken up.
But the good thing is that eventually word goes around so you can stop having those awkward
conversations with people all the time.”
“Any word on Laura by the way?” Holly asked. She enjoyed having bitching sessions about
Laura even though she had never met her. She loved to hear stories about her from Daniel and
then the two of them would spend the night talking about how much they hated her. It passed
the time, and right now Holly really needed something to avoid having to talk to Helen.
Daniel's eyes lit up. “Yes, actually I do have a bit of gossip about her,” he laughed.
“Oooh good, I love a bit of gossip,” Holly said, rubbing her hands together with delight.
“Well, a friend of mine named Charlie who works as a barman in Laura's dad's hotel told me
that her boyfriend tried to come on to some other woman who was a guest in the hotel and
Laura caught him, so they split up.” He laughed evilly and had a twinkle in his eye. He was
delighted to hear of her heartbreak.
Holly froze because that story sounded rather familiar. “Eh . . . Daniel, what hotel does her
father own?”
“Oh, the Galway Inn. It's a real kip of a place but it's in a nice area, across the road from the
beach.”
“Oh.” Holly didn't know what to say and her eyes widened.
“I know,” Daniel laughed. “It's brilliant, isn't it? I can tell you, if I ever met the woman who
split them up I would buy her the most expensive bottle of champagne I could find.”
Holly smiled weakly, “Would you now . . .” He better start saving his money then . . . Holly
stared at Daniel's face curiously, interested to know why on earth Daniel had once been
interested in Laura. Holly would have bet all her money against those two ever being together;
she didn't seem his type, whatever his “type” was. Daniel was so easygoing and friendly and
Laura was . . . well, Laura was a bitch. Holly couldn't think of any other word to describe her.
“Em, Daniel?” Holly nervously tucked her hair behind her ears, preparing herself to question
him on his choice of women.
He smiled at her, eyes still twinkling from the news of his ex-girlfriend and ex–best friend's
breakup. “Yes, Holly.”
“Well, I was just wondering. Laura seems to sound like a bit of a . . . em . . . a . . . bitch, to be
honest.” She bit her lip and studied his face to see if she had insulted him. His face was blank as
he stared at the candlesticks in the center of the table and listened. “Well,” she continued,
feeling as though she had to tiptoe carefully around this subject, knowing how badly Laura had
broken Daniel's heart. “Well, my question is really, what ever did you see in her? How could you
two ever have been in love? You're both so different, well, at least you sound like you're so
different.” She backpedaled fast, remembering she wasn't supposed to have ever met Laura.
Daniel was silent for a moment and Holly feared she had stepped into the wrong territory.
He dragged his eyes away from the flame dancing around on the candlestick to face Holly. His
lips broke into a sad smile. “Laura isn't really a bitch, Holly. Well, for leaving me for my best
friend she is . . . but as a person, when we were together, she was never a bitch. Dramatic, yes.
A bitch, no.” He smiled and turned his body around to face Holly properly. “You see, I loved the
drama of our relationship. I found it exciting; she enthralled me.” His face became animated as
he explained their relationship and his speech quickened with the excitement of the memory of
his lost love. “I loved waking up in the morning and wondering what kind of mood she would
be in that day, I loved our fights, I loved the passion of them and I loved how we would make
love after them.” His eyes danced. “She would make a song and dance about most things, but I
suppose that's what I found different and attractive about her. I used to always tell myself that
as long as she kept making a song and dance about our own relationship, then I knew she cared.
If she hadn't, then it wouldn't have been worth it really. I loved the drama,” he repeated,
believing himself even more this time. “Our temperaments contrasted, but we made a good
team; you know what they say about opposites attracting . . .” He looked into the face of his
new friend and saw her concern. “She didn't treat me badly, Holly, she wasn't a bitch in that
way . . .” He smiled more to himself. “She was just . . .”
“Dramatic,” Holly finished for him, finally understanding. He nodded.
Holly watched his face as he got lost in another memory. She supposed it was possible for
anybody to love anybody. That was the great thing about love; it came in all different shapes,
sizes and temperaments.
“You miss her,” Holly said gently, putting her hand on his arm.
Daniel snapped out of his daydream and stared deeply into Holly's eyes. A shiver went down her
spine and she felt the hairs on her arms stand up. He snorted loudly and twisted back around in
his chair, “Wrong again, Holly Kennedy.” He nodded his head and frowned, as though she had
said the most bizarre thing ever. “Completely and utterly wrong.” He picked up his knife and
fork and began to eat his salmon starter. Holly gulped back some cool water and turned her
attention to the plate that was being set before her.
After dinner and a few bottles of wine Helen stumbled over to Holly, who had escaped over to
Sharon and Denise's side of the table. She gave her a big hug and tearily apologized for not
keeping in touch.
“That's OK, Helen. Sharon, Denise and John have been very supportive friends, so I wasn't
alone.”
“Oh, but I feel so awful,” Helen slurred.
“Don't,” Holly said, anxious to continue her enjoyable conversation with the girls.
But Helen insisted on talking about the good old times when Gerry was alive and when
everything was rosy. She talked about all the times that she and Gerry had shared together,
which were memories that Holly wasn't particularly interested in. Eventually Holly had enough
of Helen's tearful whinging and realized that all her friends were up having fun on the dance
floor.
“Helen, please stop,” Holly finally interrupted. “I don't know why you feel you have to discuss
this with me tonight when I am trying to enjoy myself, but you obviously feel guilty for not
keeping in touch with me. To be honest, I think that if I hadn't come to this ball tonight I still
wouldn't have heard from you for another ten months and more. And that's not the kind of
friend I need in my life. So please stop crying on my shoulder and let me enjoy myself.”
Holly felt that she had phrased it reasonably, but Helen looked like she had been slapped in the
face. A small dose of what Holly had felt for the past year. Daniel appeared out of nowhere,
took Holly by the hand and led her to the dance floor to join all her friends. As soon as they
reached the dance floor the song ended and Eric Clapton's “Wonderful Tonight” began. The
dance floor began to empty out bar a few couples and Holly was left facing Daniel. She gulped.
She hadn't planned on this. She had only ever danced with Gerry to this song.
Daniel placed his hand lightly on her waist and gently took her hand and they began to circle
around. Holly was stiff. Dancing with another man felt wrong. A tingle went down her spine
and she shuddered. Daniel must have thought she was cold and he pulled her closer to keep her
warm. She was led around the floor in a trance until the song ended and she made the excuse of
having to go to the toilet. She locked herself in the cubicle and leaned against the door taking
deep breaths. She had been doing so well up until now. Even with everyone asking her about
Gerry she had remained calm. But the dance had shaken her. Perhaps it was time to go home
while the going was good. She was about to unlock the door when she heard a voice outside say
her name. She froze and listened to the women chatting outside.
“Did you see Holly Kennedy dancing with that man tonight?” a voice asked. The unmistakable
whine of Jennifer.
“I know!” another voice spoke with a tone of disgust. “And her husband not yet cold in his
grave!”
“Ah leave her alone,” another woman said lightheartedly, “they could just be friends.”
Thank you, Holly thought.
“But I doubt it,” she continued and the women giggled.
“Did you see the way they were wrapped around each other? I don't dance with any of my
friends like that,” Jennifer said.
“That's disgraceful,” another woman said. “Imagine flaunting your new man in a place you used
to come to with your husband in front of all his friends. It's disgusting.” The women tutted and
a toilet flushed in the cubicle beside Holly. She stood frozen in her position, shocked by what
she was hearing and embarrassed they were saying it where others could hear.
The toilet door opened beside her and the women were silenced. “Would you bickering old
bitches ever go and get yourselves lives?” Sharon's voice yelled. “It is absolutely no business of
yours what my best friend does or does not do! Jennifer, if your life was so bloody perfect then
what are you doing sneaking around with Pauline's husband?”
Holly heard someone gasp. It was probably Pauline.
Holly covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing.
“Right, so keep your noses in your own business and piss off the lot of you!” Sharon yelled.
When Holly felt she had heard everyone leave she unlocked the door and stepped outside.
Sharon looked up at her from the sink in shock.
“Thanks, Sharon.”
“Oh Holly, I'm sorry you had to hear that,” she said, giving her friend a hug.
“It doesn't matter, I couldn't give a crap what they think,” Holly said bravely. “But I can't
believe Jenny is having an affair with Pauline's husband!” Holly said, shocked.
Sharon shrugged, “She's not, but it'll give them something to bitch about for the next few
months.”
The girls giggled.
“I think I'll go home now, though,” Holly said, glancing at her watch and thinking about the
final message from Gerry. Her heart sank.
“Good idea,” Sharon agreed. “I didn't realize how shite this ball was when you're sober.”
Holly smiled.
“Anyway, you were great tonight, Holly. You came, you conquered, now go home and open
Gerry's message. Ring me and let me know what it says.” She hugged her friend again.
“It's the last one,” Holly said sadly.
“I know, so enjoy it,” Sharon smiled. “But memories last a lifetime, remember that.”
Holly made her way back to the table to say good-bye to everyone and Daniel stood up to leave
with her. “You're not leaving me here on my own,” he laughed. “We can share a cab.”
Holly was slightly irritated when Daniel hopped out of the taxi and followed her to her house, as
she was looking forward to opening the envelope from Gerry. It was a quarter to twelve, which
gave her fifteen minutes. She hoped he would drink his tea and be gone by then. She even called
another taxi to arrive at her house in half an hour, just to let him know he couldn't stay too long.
“Ah, so this is the famous envelope,” Daniel said, picking the tiny envelope up from the table.
Holly's eyes widened; she felt protective over that envelope, and she wasn't happy with him
touching it, removing Gerry's trace from it.
“December,” he said, reading the outside and running his fingers along the lettering. Holly
wanted to tell him to put it down but didn't want to sound psychotic. Eventually he placed it
back on the table and she breathed a sigh of relief and continued to fill the kettle with water.
“How many more envelopes are left?” Daniel asked, taking his overcoat off and walking over to
join her at the kitchen counter.
“That's the last one.” Holly's voice was husky and she cleared her throat.
“So what are you going to do after that?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, feeling confused.
“Well, as far as I can see, that list is like your bible, your ten commandments. What the list says
goes, as far as your life is concerned. So what will you do when there aren't any more?”
Holly looked up at his face to see if he was being smart, but his blue eyes twinkled back at her.
“I'll just live my life,” she replied, turning her back and flicking the switch on the kettle.
“Will you be able to do that?” he walked closer to her and she could smell his aftershave. It was
a real Daniel smell.
“I suppose so,” she replied, confused and uncomfortable by his questions.
“Because you will have to make your own decisions then,” he said softly.
“I know that,” she said defensively, avoiding eye contact with him.
“And do you think you'll be able to do that?”
Holly rubbed her face tiredly. “Daniel, what's this about?”
He swallowed hard and adjusted his stance before her, trying to make himself comfortable. “I'm
asking you this because I'm going to say something to you now, and you are going to have to
make your own decision.” He looked her straight in the eye and her heart beat wildly. “There
will be no list, no guidelines; you will just have to follow your own heart.”
Holly backed away from him a little. A feeling of dread pulled at her heart and she hoped he
wasn't going to say what she thought he was about to say.
“Em . . . Daniel . . . I d-don't think that this is . . . the right time to . . . um . . . we shouldn't talk
about . . .”
“This is a perfect time,” he said seriously. “You already know what I'm going to say to you,
Holly, and I know you already know how I feel about you.”
Holly's mouth dropped open and she glanced at the clock.
It was twelve o'clock.

Forty-seven


GERRY TOUCHED HOLLY'S NOSE AND smiled to himself as she wrinkled up her nose in
her sleep. He loved watching her while she was sleeping; she looked like a princess, so beautiful
and peaceful.
He tickled her nose again and smiled as her eyes slowly opened. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”
She smiled at him. “Good morning, beautiful.” She cuddled closer to him and rested her head on
his chest. “How are you feeling today?”
“Like I could run the London marathon,” he joked.
“Now that's what I call a quick recovery,” she smiled, lifting her head and kissing him on the
lips. “What do you want for breakfast?”
“You,” he said, biting her nose.
Holly giggled. “I'm not on the menu today unfortunately. How about a fry?”
“No,” he frowned. “That's too heavy for me,” and his heart melted as he saw Holly's face fall.
He tried to perk himself up. “But I would love a big, huge bowl of vanilla ice cream!”
“Ice cream!” she laughed. “For breakfast?”
“Yes,” he grinned, “I always wanted that for breakfast when I was a kid but my darling mother
wouldn't allow me to have it. But now I don't care anymore.” He smiled bravely.
“Then ice cream you shall have,” Holly said happily, hopping out of bed. “Do you mind if I wear
this?” she asked, putting his dressing gown on.
“My dear, you can wear it all you like.” Gerry smiled, watching her modeling the oversized robe
up and down the bedroom for him.
“Mmm, it smells of you,” she said, sniffing it. “I'm never going to take it off. OK, I'll be back in
a minute,” and he heard her racing down the stairs and clattering around in the kitchen.
Lately he had noticed her racing around every time she left his side, it was as though she were
afraid to leave him for too long on his own, and he knew what that meant. Bad news for him.
He had finished his radiation therapy, which they had prayed would target the residual tumor. It
had failed, and now all he could do was lie around all day, as he felt too weak to get up most of
the time. It just seemed so pointless to him because it wasn't even as if he were waiting to
recover. His heart beat wildly at the thought. He was afraid; afraid of where he was going,
afraid of what was happening to him and afraid for Holly. She was the only person who knew
exactly what to say to him to calm him down and ease his pain. She was so strong; she was his
rock and he couldn't imagine his life without her. But he needn't worry about that scenario,
because it was she who would be without him. He felt angry, sad, jealous and scared for her. He
wanted to stay with her and carry out every wish and promise they had ever made to each other,
and he was fighting for that right. But he knew he was fighting a losing battle. After two
operations the tumor had returned, and it was growing rapidly inside him. He wanted to reach
into his head and tear out the disease that was destroying his life, but that was just another thing
he had no control over.
He and Holly had become even closer than before over the past few months, which was
something he knew was a bad idea for Holly's sake, but he couldn't bear to distance himself
from her. He was enjoying the chats they carried on till the early hours of the morning, and they
found themselves giggling just like when they were teenagers. But that was only on their good
days.
They had their bad days, too.
He wouldn't think about that now, his therapist kept telling him to “give his body a positive
environment–socially, emotionally, nutritionally and spiritually.”
And his new little project was doing just that. It was keeping him busy and making him feel like
he could do something other than lie on a bed all day. His mind was kept occupied as he
mapped out his plan to remain with Holly even when he was gone. He was also fulfilling a
promise he had made to her years ago. At least there was one he could follow through on for
her. Shame it had to be this particular promise.
He heard Holly thudding up the stairs and he smiled; his plan was working.
“Babe, there's no more ice cream left,” she said sadly. “Is there anything else you would prefer?”
“Nope,” he shook his head. “Just the ice cream, please.”
“Oh, but now I have to go to the shop to get it,” she complained.
“Don't worry, hun, I'll be fine for a few minutes,” he assured her.
She looked at him uncertainly. “I really would rather stay, there's no one else here.”
“Don't be silly,” he smiled, and he lifted his mobile off the bedside table and placed it on his
chest. “If there's a problem, which there won't be, I'll call you.”
“OK.” Holly bit her lip. “I'll only be five minutes down the road. Are you sure you'll be OK?”
“Positive,” he smiled.
“OK then.” She slowly took off his robe and threw on a tracksuit and he could see she still
wasn't happy about the arrangement.
“Holly, I'll be fine,” he said firmly.
“OK.” She gave him a long kiss and he heard her race down the stairs, rush out to the car and
speed off down the road.
As soon as Gerry knew he was safe, he pulled back the covers and slowly climbed out of bed.
He sat on the edge of the mattress for a while, waiting for the dizziness to pass, then he slowly
made his way to the wardrobe. He took out an old shoe box from the top shelf that contained
junk he had collected over the past few years and that also contained the nine full envelopes. He
took out the tenth empty envelope and neatly wrote “December” on the front. Today was the
first of December, and he moved himself forward one year from now, knowing he wouldn't be
around. He imagined Holly to be a karaoke genius, relaxed from her holiday in Spain, bruise-free
as a result of the bedside lamp and hopefully happy in a new job that she loved.
He imagined her on this very day in one year's time possibly sitting on the bed right where he
was now and reading the final installment to the list, and he thought long and hard about what
to write. Tears filled his eyes as he placed the full stop beside the sentence; he kissed the page,
wrapped it in the envelope and hid it back in the shoe box. He would post the envelopes to
Holly's parents' house in Portmarnock, where he knew the package would be in safe hands until
she was prepared to open it. He wiped the tears from his eyes and slowly made his way back to
bed, where his phone was ringing on the mattress.
“Hello?” he said, trying to control his voice, and he smiled when he heard the sweetest voice on
the other end. “I love you too, Holly . . .”
Forty-eight
“NO DANIEL, THIS ISN'T RIGHT,” Holly said, upset, and pulled her hand away from his
grip.
“But why isn't it right?” he pleaded with her with his twinkling blue eyes.
“It's too soon,” she said, rubbing her face tiredly all of a sudden, feeling so confused. Things for
her just seemed to get worse and worse.
“Too soon because that's what people have been telling you, or too soon because that's what
your heart's telling you?”
“Oh Daniel, I don't know!” she said, pacing the kitchen floor. “I'm so confused. Please stop
asking me so many questions!”
Her heart beat wildly and her head spun, even her body was telling her this wasn't a good
situation to be in. It was panicking for her, allowing her to see that danger was ahead. This felt
wrong, it all felt so wrong. “I can't, Daniel, I'm married! I love Gerry!” she said in a panic.
“Gerry?” he asked, his eyes widening as he went over to the kitchen table and grabbed the
envelope roughly. “This is Gerry! This is what I'm competing with! It's a piece of paper, Holly.
It's a list. A list you have allowed to run your life for the past year without having to think for
yourself or live your own life. Now you have to think for yourself, right now. Gerry's gone,” he
said gently, walking back over to her. “Gerry's gone and I'm here. I'm not saying that I could
ever take his place, but at least give us a chance to be together.”
She took the envelope from his hand and hugged it close to her heart as tears rolled down her
cheeks. “Gerry's not gone,” she sobbed. “He's here, every time I open these, he's here.”
There was a silence as Daniel watched her crying. She looked so lost and helpless, he just
wanted to hold her. “It's a piece of paper,” he said, softly stepping closer to her again.
“Gerry is not a piece of paper,” she said angrily through her tears. “He was a living, breathing
human being that I loved. Gerry is the man who consumed my life for fifteen years. He is a
million billion happy memories. He is not a piece of paper,” she repeated.
“So what am I?” Daniel asked quietly.
Holly prayed that he wouldn't cry, she didn't think she could bear it if he cried.
“You,” she took a deep breath, “are a kind, caring and incredibly thoughtful friend who I respect
and appreciate–”
“But I'm not Gerry,” he interrupted her.
“I don't want you to be Gerry,” she insisted. “I want you to be Daniel.”
“How do you feel about me?” His voice shook slightly.
“I just told you how I feel about you,” she sniffed.
“No, how do you feel about me?”
She stared at the ground. “I feel strongly about you, Daniel, but I need time . . .” she paused, “. .
. lots and lots of time.”
“Then I will wait.” He smiled sadly and wrapped his strong arms around her weak body.
The doorbell rang and Holly silently breathed a sigh of relief. “That's your taxi.” Her voice
shook.
“I'll call you tomorrow, Holly,” he said softly, kissing her on the top of her head, and he made
his way to the front door. Holly continued to stand in the middle of the kitchen going over and
over the scene that had just occurred. She stood there for some time tightly gripping the
crumpled envelope close to her heart.
Still in shock she eventually made her way slowly up the stairs to bed. She slipped out of her
dress and wrapped herself in Gerry's warm, oversized robe. His smell had disappeared. She
slowly climbed into bed like a child and tucked herself under the covers and flicked on the
bedside lamp. She stared at the envelope for a long time thinking about what Daniel had said.
The list had become some sort of a bible to her. She obeyed the rules, lived by the rules and
never broke any of the rules. When Gerry said jump, she jumped. But the list had helped her. It
had helped her get out of bed in the morning and start a new life at a time when all she wanted
to do was curl into a ball and die. Gerry had helped her and she didn't regret one thing she had
done in the past year. She didn't regret her new job or her new friends or any new thought or
feeling she had developed all by herself without Gerry's opinion. But this was the final
installment to the list. This was her tenth commandment, as Daniel had phrased it. There would
be no more. He was right; she would have to start making decisions for herself, live a life that
she felt happy about without holding back and wondering whether or not Gerry would agree
with it. Well, she could always wonder, but she needn't let it stop her.
When he was alive she had lived through him, and now he was dead and she was still living
through him. She could see that now. It made her feel safe, but now she was out on her own
and she needed to be brave.
She took the phone off the hook and switched the power off her mobile. She didn't want to be
disturbed. She needed to savor this special and final moment without interruptions. She needed
to say good-bye to Gerry's contact with her. She was alone now and she needed to think for
herself.
She slowly tore open the envelope, carefully trying not to rip the paper as she slid the card out.
Don't be afraid to fall in love again. Open your heart and follow where it leads you . . . and
remember, shoot for the moon . . .
PS, I will always love you . . .
“Oh Gerry,” she sobbed, reading the card, and her shoulders shook as her body heaved from the
pain of her tears.
She got very little sleep that night and the times she did nod off, her dreams were obscure
images of Daniel's and Gerry's faces and bodies being mingled together. She awoke in a sweat
at 6 A.M. and decided to get up and go for a walk to clear the jumbled thoughts from her head.
Her heart felt heavy as she walked along the path of her local park. She had bundled herself up
well to protect herself from the stinging cold that whipped at her ears and numbed her face. Yet
her head felt hot. Hot from the tears, hot from her headache, hot from her brain working
overtime.
The trees were bare and looked like skeletons lining the pathway. Leaves danced around in
circles around her feet like wicked little elves threatening to trip her up. The park was deserted;
people had once again gone into hibernation, too cowardly to brave the winter elements. Holly
wasn't brave nor was she enjoying her stroll. It felt like punishment to be out in the icy cold
weather.
How on earth had she found herself in this situation? Just as soon as she was getting around to
picking up the pieces of her shattered life, she dropped them all again and sent them scattering.
She thought she had found a friend, someone she could confide in. She wasn't looking to
become entangled in some ridiculous love triangle. And it was ridiculous because the third
person wasn't even around. He wasn't even a possible candidate for the job. Of course she
thought of Daniel a lot, but she also thought about Sharon and Denise, and surely she wasn't in
love with them? What she felt for Daniel wasn't the love she felt for Gerry, it was an entirely
different feeling. So perhaps she wasn't in love with Daniel. And anyway if she were, wouldn't
she be the first person to realize it, instead of being given a few days to “think about it”? But
then why was she even thinking about it? If she didn't love him, then she should come right out
and say it . . . but she was thinking about it . . . It was a simple yes or no question, wasn't it?
How odd life was.
And why was Gerry urging her to find a new love? What had he been thinking when he wrote
that message? Had he already let go of her before he died? Had it been so easy for him to just
give her up and resign himself to the fact that she would meet someone else? Questions,
questions, questions. And she would never know the answers.
After hours of tormenting herself with further interrogations and the freezing cold nipping at her
skin, she headed back in the direction of her house. As she walked down her estate, the sound of
laughter caused her to lift her gaze from the ground. Her neighbors were decorating the tree in
their garden with tiny Christmas lights.
“Hi, Holly,” her neighbor giggled, stepping out from behind the tree with bulbs wrapped around
her wrists.
“I'm decorating Jessica,” her partner laughed, wrapping the tangled cords around her legs. “I
think she'll make a beautiful garden gnome.”
Holly smiled sadly as she watched them laughing together. “Christmas already,” Holly thought
aloud.
“I know,” Jessica stopped laughing long enough to answer. “Hasn't the year just flown?”
“Too fast,” Holly said quietly. “It went far too fast.”
Holly crossed the road and continued on her way to her house. A scream caused Holly to swirl
around and see Jessica lose her balance and collapse onto the grass wrapped in a pile of lights.
Their laughs echoed down the street and Holly stepped into her house.
“OK, Gerry,” Holly announced as she stepped into the house. “I've been for a walk and I've
thought deeply about what you said and I have come to the conclusion that you had lost your
mind when you wrote that message. If you really really mean it, then give me some sort of sign,
and if not I'll completely understand that it was all a big mistake and that you have changed your
mind,” she said matter-of-factly into the air. She looked around the living room waiting to see if
anything happened. Nothing did.
“OK then,” she said happily. “You made a mistake, I understand. I will just disregard that final
message.” She looked around the room again and wandered over toward the window. “OK,
Gerry, this is your last chance . . .”
The lights on the tree across the road flew on and Jessica and Tony danced around the garden
giggling. Suddenly the lights flickered and went out again. They stopped dancing and their faces
fell.
Holly rolled her eyes. “I'll take that as an I don't know.”
She sat down at the kitchen table and sipped on a hot mug of tea to thaw out her frozen face.
Friend tells you he loves you and dead husband tells you to fall in love again, so you make a cup
of tea.
She had three weeks left at work until she could take her Christmas holidays, which meant that
if she had to, she would only have to avoid Daniel for fifteen working days. That seemed
possible. She hoped that by the time of Denise's wedding at the end of December she would
have made a decision about what to do. But first she had to get through her first Christmas
alone, and she was dreading it.
Forty-nine
“OK, WHERE DO YOU WANT me to put it?” Richard panted, dragging the Christmas tree in
her living room. A trail of pine needles led all the way out the living room door, down the hall,
out the front door and into her car. Holly sighed, she would have to vacuum the house again
today to get rid of the mess and she stared at the tree with disgust. They smelled so fresh, but
damn, were they messy.
“Holly!” Richard repeated, and she jumped from her thoughts to face him.
She giggled, “You look like a talking tree, Richard.” All she could see were his little brown
shoes sticking out from underneath the tree resembling a skinny little brown stump.
“Holly,” he grunted, losing his balance slightly under the weight.
“Oh sorry,” she said quickly, suddenly realizing that he was about to fall over. “Over by the
window.”
She bit her lip and winced as he sent everything crashing around him while he made his way
over to the window.
“There now,” he said, wiping his hands and stepping back to take a look at his work.
Holly frowned. “It looks a little bit bare, don't you think?”
“Well, you will have to decorate it of course.”
“Well, I know that, Richard, but I was referring to the fact that it only has about five branches
left. It's got bald patches,” she moaned.
“I told you to buy a tree earlier, Holly, not leave it until Christmas Eve. Anyway, that was the
best of a bad lot; I sold the best ones weeks ago.”
“I suppose,” Holly frowned. She really didn't want to get a Christmas tree at all this year. She
wasn't even in the mood to celebrate and it wasn't as if she had any children in the house to
please by putting up decorations. Richard had insisted, though, and Holly felt that she had to
help him out with his new Christmas tree–selling venture, in addition to his flourishing
landscaping business. But the tree was awful and no amount of tinsel could hide that; looking at
it made her wish she had just bought one weeks ago. At least then maybe it would have looked
like a real tree instead of a pole with a few pine needles hanging off.
She couldn't believe it was Christmas Eve already. She had spent the past few weeks working
overtime trying to get the January issue of the magazine ready before they all took their
Christmas break. They had eventually finished up the day before, and when Alice had suggested
they all go for Christmas drinks at Hogan's she had politely declined. She still hadn't spoken to
Daniel; she had ignored all of his calls, had avoided Hogan's like the plague and had ordered
Alice to tell him she was in a meeting if he ever called the office. He called the office nearly
every day.
She didn't intend to be rude, but she needed more time to think things through. OK, so it wasn't
as if he had just proposed to her, but it almost felt like she was thinking over a big decision like
that. Richard's stare snapped her back to reality.
“Sorry, what?”
“I said would you like me to help you decorate it?”
Holly's heart fell. That was her and Gerry's job, nobody else's. Every year without fail they
would put the Christmas CD on, open a bottle of wine and decorate the tree . . .
“Eh . . . no, it's OK, Richard, I'll do it. I'm sure you've better things to be doing now.”
“Well, actually I would quite like to do it,” he said eagerly. “Usually myself, Meredith and the
children do it together, but I missed out on that this year . . .” He trailed off.
“Oh.” Holly hadn't even thought about Richard's Christmas as being difficult too, she was too
selfishly caught up in her own worries.
“OK then, why not?” she smiled.
Richard beamed and he looked like such a child.
“Oh, but the only thing is I'm not too sure where the decorations are. Gerry always used to store
them away in the attic somewhere . . .”
“No problem,” he smiled encouragingly. “That used to be my job too. I'll find them.” He
bounded up the stairs to the attic.
Holly opened a bottle of red wine and pressed PLAY on the CD player; Bing Crosby's “White
Christmas” played softly in the background. Richard returned with a black sack slung over his
shoulder and a dusty Santa hat on. “Ho-ho-ho!”
Holly giggled and handed him his glass of wine.
“No no,” he waved his hand, “I'm driving.”
“You can have one glass at least, Richard,” she said, feeling disappointed.
“No no,” he repeated, “I don't drink and drive.”
Holly threw her eyes up to heaven and knocked back his glass of wine before beginning her
own. By the time Richard left she had finished the bottle and was opening another. She noticed
the red light flashing on the answering machine. Hoping it wasn't from who she thought it was,
she hit the PLAY button.
“Hi Sharon, it's Daniel Connelly here. Sorry to bother you, but I had your phone number from
when you called the club months ago about entering Holly into the karaoke. Em . . . well, I was
really just hoping you could pass on a message for me. Denise has been so busy with the
wedding arrangements that I knew I couldn't rely on her to remember . . .” He laughed slightly
and cleared his throat. “Anyway, I was wondering if you could just tell Holly that I'm going
down to my family in Galway for Christmas. I'm heading down there tomorrow. I haven't been
able to get through to her on her mobile, I know she's on holidays from work now and I don't
have her home number . . . so if you . . .”
He got cut off and Holly waited for the next message to be played.
“Eh, sorry Sharon, it's me again. Eh . . . Daniel, that is. I just got cut off there. Yeah, so anyway,
if you could just tell Holly that I'll be in Galway for the next few days and that I'll have my
mobile with me if she wants to reach me. I know she has some things to think about so . . .” He
paused. “Anyway, I better go before I get cut off again. I'll see you all at the wedding next
week. OK thanks . . . bye.”
The second message was from Denise telling her that Daniel was looking for her, the third
message was from her brother Declan also telling her that Daniel was looking for her and the
fourth message was from an old school friend who Holly hadn't seen in years, telling her that
she'd bumped into a friend of hers called Daniel in a pub the previous night, which reminded her
of Holly, oh yeah, and Daniel was looking for Holly and he wanted her to call him back. The
fifth message was from Daniel again.
“Hi Holly, it's Daniel here. Your brother Declan gave me your number. I can't believe we've
been friends so long and you never gave me your home number, yet I've a sneaking suspicion
I've had it all along without realizing . . .” There was a silence as he exhaled. “Anyway, I really
need to talk to you, Holly. I think it should be in person, and it should be before we see each
other at the wedding. Please Holly, please take my calls. I don't know how else to get to you.”
Silence, another deep breath and exhalation. “OK, well, that's all. Bye.”
Holly pressed PLAY again, lost in thought.
She sat in the living room staring at the tree and listening to Christmas songs. She cried. Cried
for her Gerry and for her baldy Christmas tree.
Fifty
“HAPPY CHRISTMAS, LOVE!” FRANK OPENED the door to a shivering Holly standing on
the doorstep.
“Happy Christmas, Dad,” she smiled, and gave him a big bear hug. She inhaled as she walked
around the house. The beautiful smell of pine mixed with wine and Christmas dinner cooking in
the kitchen filled her nostrils, and she was hit with a pang of loneliness. Christmas reminded her
of Gerry. Gerry was Christmas. It was their special time together when they would hide from
the stresses of work and just relax and entertain their friends and family and enjoy their time
alone. She missed him so much it gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She had visited the graveyard that morning to wish him a happy Christmas. It was the first time
she had been there since the funeral, and it had been an upsetting morning. No parcel under the
tree for her, no breakfast in bed, no noise, no nothing. Gerry had wanted to be cremated, which
meant that she had to stand in front of a wall that had his name engraved on it. And she really
did feel like she was talking to a wall. However, she had told him about her year and what her
plans were for the day, she had told him Sharon and John were expecting a baby boy and they
were planning on calling him Gerry. She told him that she was to be his godmother; that she
was to be maid of honor at Denise's wedding. She explained what Tom was like because Gerry
had never met him, and she talked about her new job. She didn't mention Daniel. She had felt
peculiar standing there talking to herself. She wanted to get some deep spiritual feeling that he
was there with her and listening to her voice, but she really just felt like she was talking to a
drab gray wall.
Her situation was no extraordinary sight on Christmas day. The graveyard had been packed with
visitors, families bringing their aged mothers and fathers to visit their departed spouses, young
women like Holly wandering alone, young men . . . She had watched as a young mother broke
down over a gravestone while her two startled children watched on not knowing what to do.
The youngest child could only have been three years old. The woman had quickly dried her eyes
to protect her children. Holly was thankful that she could afford to be selfish and only have to
worry about herself. How on earth that woman could find the strength to carry on through the
day with two toddlers to worry about jumped into Holly's head regularly that day.
All in all, it hadn't been a good day.
“Oh, happy Christmas, dear!” Elizabeth announced, walking out of the kitchen with her arms
held open to embrace her child. Holly started to cry. She felt like the young child at the
graveyard. She still needed her mummy, too. Elizabeth's face was flushed from the heat of the
kitchen and the warmth of her body warmed Holly's heart.
“I'm sorry.” She wiped her face. “I didn't want to do that.”
“Hush,” Elizabeth said soothingly, hugging her even tighter. She didn't need to say anything
more; just being there was enough.
Holly had called around to visit her mother the previous week in a panic about what to do about
the Daniel situation. Elizabeth, not usually the baking kind of mother, was in the middle of
making the Christmas cake for the following week. Her face was powdered with patches of
flour, the sleeves of her sweater were rolled up to her elbows, bits of flour gathered in her hair.
The kitchen counter was covered in stray raisins, sultanas and cherries. Flour, pastry, baking
trays and tin foil cluttered the surfaces. The kitchen was decorated in colorful glittery
decorations and that wonderful festive smell filled the air.
The moment Elizabeth laid eyes on her daughter, Holly knew that she could sense there was
something wrong. They sat at the kitchen table, which was overflowing with red and green
Christmas serviettes with picture prints of Santa, reindeers and Christmas trees. There were
boxes and boxes of Christmas crackers for the family to get competitive over, chocolate biscuits,
beer and wine, the whole lot . . . Holly's parents had stocked up well for the Kennedy family.
“What's on your mind, love?” Holly's mother asked, pushing a plate of chocolate biscuits toward
her.
Holly's stomach rumbled but she couldn't handle any food. Once again she had lost her appetite.
She took a deep breath and explained to her mother what had happened between her and Daniel
and the decision she was faced with. Her mother listened patiently.
“So how do you feel about him?” Elizabeth asked, studying her daughter's face. Holly shrugged
helplessly, “I like him, Mum, I really do but . . .” She shrugged again and trailed off.
“Is it because you don't feel ready just yet for another relationship?” her mother asked gently.
Holly rubbed her forehead roughly. “Oh, I don't know, Mum, I don't feel like I know anything
anymore.” She thought for a while. “Daniel is a brilliant friend. He is always there for me, he
always makes me laugh; he makes me feel good about myself . . .” She picked up a biscuit and
began to pick away at the crumbs. “But I don't know if I'll ever feel ready for another
relationship, Mum. Maybe I will, maybe I won't; maybe this is as ready as I'll ever feel. He's not
Gerry, but I'm not expecting him to be. What I feel now is a different kind of feeling; but a nice
one, too.” She paused to think about that feeling. “I don't know if I'll ever love the same way
again. I find it hard to believe that will happen, but it's a nice thought to have that maybe
someday I could.” She smiled sadly at her mother.
“Well, you don't know if you can if you don't try,” Elizabeth said encouragingly. “It's important
not to rush into things, Holly. I know you know that, but all I want is for you to be happy. You
deserve it. Whether being happy is with Daniel, the man on the moon or without anybody, I just
want you happy.”
“Thanks, Mum.” Holly smiled weakly and rested her head on her mother's soft shoulder. “I just
don't know which of those things will do that for me.”
As comforting as her mother was to her that day, Holly was no closer to making her decision.
First she had to get through Christmas day without Gerry.
The rest of Holly's family, minus Ciara who was still in Australia, joined them in the living room
and one by one they greeted her with warm hugs and kisses. They gathered around the tree and
exchanged gifts and Holly allowed the tears to flow all throughout. She hadn't the energy to
hide them; she hadn't the energy to care. But the tears were a strange mixture of happiness and
sadness. A peculiar sensation of feeling alone yet loved.
Holly sneaked away from the family so she could have a moment to herself; her head was a
jumble of thoughts that needed to be sorted and filed. She found herself in her old bedroom
staring out the window into the dark blustery day. The sea was fierce and threatening and Holly
shuddered at its power.
“So this is where you were hiding.”
Holly turned to see Jack watching her from the bedroom door. She smiled weakly and turned
around to face the sea again, uninterested in her brother and his recent lack of support. She
listened to the waves and watched the black water swallow the sleet that had begun to fall. She
heard Jack sigh loudly and felt his arm around her shoulder.
“Sorry,” he said softly.
Holly raised her eyebrows, unimpressed, and continued to stare ahead.
He nodded to himself slowly. “You're right to treat me like this, Holly, I've been acting like a
complete idiot lately. And I'm so sorry.”
Holly turned to face him and her eyes glistened. “You let me down, Jack.”
He closed his eyes slowly as though the very thought of that pained him. “I know. I just didn't
handle the whole situation well, Holly. I found it so hard to deal with Gerry . . . you know . . .”
“Dying,” Holly finished for him.
“Yeah.” He clenched and unclenched his jaw and looked like he had finally accepted it.
“It wasn't exactly easy for me, you know, Jack.” A silence fell between them. “But you helped
me pack away all his things. You went through his belongings with me and made the whole
thing so much easier,” Holly said, feeling confused. “You were there with me for that, why did
you just suddenly disappear?”
“God, that was so tough to do,” he shook his head sadly. “You were so strong, Holly . . . you
are strong,” he corrected himself. “Getting rid of his things just tore me up, being in the house
and him not being there just . . . got to me. And then I noticed you were getting closer to
Richard, so I just figured it would be OK for me to take a step back because you had him . . .”
He shrugged his shoulders and blushed at the ridiculousness of finally explaining his feelings.
“You fool, Jack,” Holly said, thumping him playfully in the stomach. “As if Richard could ever
take your place.”
He smiled. “Oh, I don't know, you two seem very pally-pally these days.”
Holly became serious again. “Richard has been very supportive over the past year, and believe
me people haven't failed to surprise me at all during this whole experience,” she added, getting
in a dig. “Give him a chance, Jack.”
He stared out to the sea and nodded slowly, digesting this.
Holly wrapped her arms around him and felt the familiar comforting hug of her brother.
Hugging Holly even tighter, Jack said, “I'm here for you now. I'm going to stop being so selfish
and take care of my little sister.”
“Hey, your little sister is doing just fine on her own, thank you very much,” she said sadly as she
watched the sea crash violently against the rocks, its spray kissing the moon.
They sat down for their meal and Holly's mouth watered at the spread of food before her.
“I got an e-mail from Ciara today,” Declan announced.
Everyone oohed and aahed.
“She sent this picture of herself.” He passed around the photograph he had printed off.
Holly smiled at the sight of her sister lying on the beach eating barbecued Christmas dinner with
Mathew. Her hair was blond and her skin was tanned and they both looked so happy. She stared
at it for a while feeling proud that her sister had found her place. After traveling around the
world searching and searching, she reckoned Ciara had finally found contentment. Holly hoped
that would happen to her eventually. She passed the photo on to Jack and he smiled and studied
it.
“They're saying it might snow today,” Holly announced, taking a second helping of dinner. The
top button on her trousers had already been opened, but it was Christmas, after all; the time of
giving and eh . . . eating . . .
“No, it won't snow,” Richard said, sucking on a bone. “It's too cold for that.”
Holly frowned. “Richard, how could it be too cold to snow?”
He licked his fingers and wiped them on the napkin that was tucked into his shirt and Holly
tried not to laugh as she noticed he was wearing a black woolly jumper with a big picture of a
Christmas tree emblazoned across the front. “It needs to get milder before it can snow,” he
explained.
Holly giggled. “Richard, it's about minus a million in the Antarctic and it snows there. That's
hardly mild.”
Abbey giggled.
“That's the way it works,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Whatever you say.” Holly rolled her eyes.
“He's right, actually,” Jack added after a while and everyone stopped chewing to stare at him.
That was not a phrase they often heard. Jack went on to explain how snow worked and Richard
helped him out on the scientific parts. They both smiled at each other and seemed satisfied they
were Mr. Know-it-alls. Abbey raised her eyebrows at Holly and they shared their secret look of
shock.
“You want some vegetables with your gravy, Dad?” Declan asked, seriously offering him a
bowl of broccoli.
Everyone looked at Frank's plate and laughed. Once again it was a sea of gravy.
“Ha-ha,” Frank said, taking the bowl from his son. “Anyway we live too close to the sea to get
any,” he added.
“To get what? Gravy?” Holly teased and they all laughed again.
“Snow, silly,” he said, grabbing her nose like he used to when she was a child.
“Well, I bet you all a million quid that it snows today,” Declan said, eagerly glancing around at
his brothers and sisters.
“Oh well, you better start saving, Declan, because if your brainiac brothers say it ain't so, it ain't
so!” Holly joked.
“You better pay up then, boys.” Declan rubbed his hands together greedily, nodding toward the
window.
“Oh my God!” Holly exclaimed, excitedly jumping out of her chair. “It's snowing!”
“So much for that theory then,” Jack said to Richard, and they both laughed as they watched the
white flakes sparkling down from the sky.
Everyone deserted the dinner table and threw on their coats to run outside like excited children.
But then again, that's exactly what they were. Holly glanced down into the gardens lining the
street and spotted the families of every household standing outside staring up into the sky.
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her daughter's shoulders and squeezed her tight. “Well, it
looks like Denise will have a white Christmas for her white wedding,” she smiled.
Holly's heart beat wildly at the thought of Denise's wedding. In just a few days she would have
to confront Daniel. As though her mother had been reading her mind she asked Holly gently and
quietly so no one else would hear, “Have you thought about what to say to Daniel yet?”
Holly glanced up at the snowflakes glistening down from the black star-filled sky in the
moonlight. The moment felt so magical; right there and then she made her final decision.
“Yes I have.” She smiled and took a deep breath.
“Good.” Elizabeth kissed her on the cheek, “And remember, God leads you to it and takes you
through it.”
Holly smiled at the phrase. “He better, because I'm going to need him a lot over the next while.”
“Sharon, don't carry that case, it's too heavy!” John yelled at his wife, and Sharon dropped the
bag angrily.
“John, I am not an invalid. I am pregnant!” she shouted back at him.
“I know that, but the doctor said not to lift heavy things!” he said firmly, walking around to her
side of the car and grabbing the bag.
“Well screw the doctor, he's never been bloody pregnant,” Sharon yelled, watching John storm
off.
Holly banged down the boot of the car loudly. She had had enough of John and Sharon's
tantrums; she had been stuck listening to them bicker all the way down to Wicklow in the car.
Now all she wanted to do was to go to the hotel and relax in the peace and quiet. She was
growing quite afraid of Sharon as well, her voice level had raised three octaves in the past two
hours and she looked like she was going to explode. Actually, by the size of her pregnancy bump
Holly was afraid she really would explode, and she didn't want to be around for that happening.
Holly grabbed her bag and glanced up at the hotel. It was more like a castle. It was the place
Tom and Denise had chosen as the venue for their New Year's Eve wedding, and they couldn't
have picked a more beautiful place. The building was covered in dark green ivy climbing up its
aging walls and a huge water fountain adorned the front courtyard. Acres and acres of
beautifully kept lush green gardens crept out around all sides of the hotel; Denise didn't get her
white Christmas wedding after all, the snow had melted minutes after it had arrived. Still, it had
been a beautiful moment for Holly to share with her family on Christmas day, and it had
succeeded in lifting her spirits for a short time. Now all she wanted to do was find her room and
pamper herself. She wasn't even sure if her bridesmaid's dress would still fit her after she had
piled on the pounds over Christmas. It was a fear that she wasn't willing to share with Denise,
as she would probably have a heart attack. Perhaps some minor alterations wouldn't be too
difficult . . . She also regretted telling Sharon she was worried about the fit as Sharon had
screamed that she couldn't even fit into the clothes she had worn the day before, never mind a
dress she was fitted for months ago.
Holly dragged her bag behind her over the cobblestones and was suddenly jerked forward and
sent flying as someone tripped over her luggage.
“Sorry,” she heard a singsong voice say and she looked back angrily to see who had almost
caused her to break her neck. She watched the tall blonde as her hips went boom-boom heading
toward the hotel. Holly frowned, that walk was familiar. She knew she knew it from somewhere
but . . . uh-oh!
Laura.
Oh no, she thought, panicking, Tom and Denise had invited Laura after all! She had to find
Daniel quickly so that she could warn him. He would be disgusted to find out she had received
an invite. And then if the moment was right she would finish off that chat with him. If he still
wanted to hear from her; after all, it had been almost a month since she had last spoken to him.
She crossed her fingers tightly behind her back and rushed toward the reception area.
She was greeted with mayhem.
The reception area was crowded with angry people and luggage. Denise's voice was instantly
recognizable above all the noise.
“Look, I don't care if you've made a mistake! Fix it! I booked fifty rooms months ago for my
wedding guests! Did you hear me? My wedding! Now I am not sending ten of them to some
crappy B&B down the road. Sort it out!”
A very startled-looking receptionist gulped and nodded wildly and tried to explain the situation.
Denise held her hand up in his face. “I don't want to hear any more excuses! Just get ten more
rooms for my guests!”
Holly spotted Tom looking perplexed, and she headed over to him.
“Tom!” she beat her way through the crowd.
“Hi Holly,” he said, looking very distracted.
“What room is Daniel in?” she asked quickly.
“Daniel?” he asked, looking confused.
“Yes, Daniel! The best man . . . I mean, your best man,” she corrected herself.
“Oh, I don't know, Holly,” he said, turning away to grab a member of the hotel staff.
Holly jumped to face him, blocking his view of the staff member. “Tom, I really need to know!”
she panicked.
“Look, Holly, I really don't know; ask Denise,” he mumbled, and he ran off down the corridor
chasing the hotel staff member.
Holly looked at Denise and gulped. Denise looked possessed, and she had no intention of asking
her in that mood. She queued in line behind all the other guests and twenty minutes later and a
few sneaky moves to skip the queue, she reached the top.
“Hi, I was wondering if you could tell me what room Daniel Connelly is in, please,” she asked
quickly.
The receptionist shook his head. “I'm sorry, we can't give out guests' room numbers.”
Holly rolled her eyes. “Look, I'm a friend of his,” she explained and smiled sweetly.
The man smiled politely and shook his head again. “I'm sorry, but it's against hotel policy to–”
“Listen!” she yelled and even Denise shut up screaming from beside her. “It's very important
that you tell me!”
The man gulped and shook his head slowly, apparently too afraid to open his mouth. Finally he
said, “I'm sorry but–”
“Aaaaaggghhh!” Holly screamed with frustration, interrupting him again.
“Holly,” Denise said, gently placing her hand on Holly's arm, “what's wrong?”
“I need to know what room Daniel is staying in!” she yelled, and Denise looked startled.
“It's room three forty-two,” she stuttered.
“Thank you!” Holly yelled angrily, not knowing why she was still screaming, and she stormed
off in the direction of the elevators.
Holly rushed down the corridor dragging her bag behind her and checking the door numbers.
When she reached his room she knocked furiously on the door, and as she heard footsteps
approaching the door she realized she hadn't even thought about what she was going to say. She
took a deep breath as the door was pulled open.
She stopped breathing.
It was Laura.
“Honey, who is it?” she heard Daniel's voice call. Holly saw him walk out of the bathroom with
a tiny towel wrapped around his naked body.
“You!” Laura screeched.
Fifty-one
HOLLY STOOD OUTSIDE DANIEL'S BEDROOM door and glanced from Laura to Daniel
and back to Laura again. She gathered from their seminakedness that Daniel had already known
Laura was coming to the wedding. She also assumed that he hadn't informed Denise or Tom
either, as they hadn't been able to warn Holly. But even if they had known, they wouldn't have
considered it important to tell her. Holly hadn't shared what Daniel had told her before
Christmas with any of her friends. As Holly stared into the hotel room, she realized this meant
that she had absolutely no reason to be standing where she was right then.
Daniel hung on to his tiny towel tightly, glued to the spot, his face a picture of shock. Laura's
face was stormy. Holly's mouth had dropped open. Nobody spoke for a while. Holly could
almost hear everybody's brains ticking. Then eventually someone spoke and Holly wished it
hadn't been that particular person. “What are you doing here?” Laura hissed.
Holly's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish's. Daniel's forehead wrinkled in confusion as he
stared from one girl to the other. “Do you two . . .” He stopped asking the question as if the idea
were totally ridiculous, but then thought about it and decided to ask anyway, “Do you two
know each other?”
Holly gulped.
“Ha!” Laura's face twisted in contempt. “She is no friend of mine! I caught this little bitch
kissing my boyfriend!” Laura yelled and then stopped herself as she realized what she had said.
“Your boyfriend?” Daniel yelled, crossing the room to join them at the door.
“Sorry . . . ex-boyfriend,” Laura mumbled, staring at the floor.
A small smile crept across Holly's face, glad that Laura had dumped herself in it.
“Yeah, Stevie, wasn't it? A good friend of Daniel's, if I remember correctly.”
Daniel's face reddened as he looked at them both, seeming completely lost. Laura stared back at
Daniel, angrily wondering how this woman knew her boyfriend . . . her current boyfriend, that
was.
“Daniel's a good friend of mine,” Holly explained, crossing her arms over her chest.
“So have you come to steal him from me too?” Laura said bitterly.
“Oh please, like you're one to talk,” she fired at Laura and her face reddened.
“You kissed Stevie?” Daniel said, slowly getting the gist of the story. He looked angry.
“No, I did not kiss Stevie.” Holly rolled her eyes.
“You did too!” Laura yelled childishly.
“Oh, would you ever shut up?” She looked at Laura and laughed. “What does it matter to you
anyway? I take it you're back with Daniel, so it looks like everything worked out for you in the
end!” Holly then turned to Daniel.
“No, Daniel,” Holly continued. “I did not kiss Stevie. We were down in Galway for Denise's
hen weekend and Stevie was drunk and tried to kiss me,” she explained calmly.
“Oh, you're such a liar,” Laura said bitterly, “I saw what happened.”
“And so did Charlie.” Holly ignored Laura and continued to face Daniel. “So ask him if you
don't believe me, but if you don't believe me I really don't care either,” she added. “Anyway, I
came to have that chat with you but you're obviously busy.” She glanced down at the skimpy
towel wrapped around his waist. “So I'll see you both later at the wedding.” And with that she
turned on her heel and marched off down the corridor dragging her suitcase behind her. She
glanced back at Daniel, who was still staring at her from his door, and she turned her head and
turned the corner. She froze when she realized she had reached a dead end. The elevators were
the other way. She kept on walking to the end of the corridor so she wouldn't look completely
stupid for walking past their door again. She waited at the end of the corridor for a while until
she heard the door close. She tiptoed back up the hall, rounded the corner and sneaked past his
bedroom door and rushed down to the elevator.
She pressed the button and breathed a sigh of relief, closing her tired eyes. She didn't even feel
angry with Daniel, in fact, in a really childish way, she was glad he had done something to stop
them from having their little chat. So she had been dumped and not the other way around, as
she was expecting. But Daniel couldn't have been that much in love with her, she reasoned, if
he was able to get over her and go back to Laura so quickly. Ah well, at least she didn't hurt his
feelings . . . but she did think he was a complete fool for taking Laura back . . .
“Are you getting in or what?”
Holly's eyes flew open; she hadn't even heard the elevator doors open. “Leo!” she smiled,
stepping in and hugging him. “I didn't know you were coming down!”
“I'm doing hair for the queen bee today,” he laughed, referring to Denise.
“Is she that bad?” Holly winced.
“Oh, she was just in a tizzy because Tom saw her on the day of her wedding. She thinks it'll be
bad luck.”
“Well, it will only be bad luck if she thinks it's bad luck,” Holly smiled.
“I haven't seen you for ages,” Leo said, glancing at Holly's hair and making it very obvious.
“Oh I know,” Holly moaned, covering her roots with her hand. “I've been so busy at work this
month I just haven't had time.”
Leo raised his eyebrows and looked amused. “Never did I think I would ever hear you say those
words about work. You're a changed woman.”
Holly smiled and was thoughtful. “Yes. Yes, I really think I am.”
“Come on, then,” Leo said, stepping out onto his floor. “The wedding isn't for another few
hours; I'll tie your hair up so we can cover those awful roots.”
“Oh, are you sure you don't mind?” Holly bit her lip, feeling guilty.
“No, I don't mind at all.” Leo waved his hand dismissively. “We can't have you ruining Denise's
wedding photos with that head on you, can we?”
Holly smiled and dragged her suitcase out of the elevator after him. That was more like it, for a
minute there he was just being too nice.
Denise looked at Holly excitedly at the head table of the hotel's function room as someone
rapped a spoon against their glass and the speeches began. Holly fumbled nervously with her
hands in her lap going over and over her speech in her head and not even listening to what the
other speakers were saying.
She should have written it down because now she was so nervous, she couldn't remember the
start of it. Her heart beat wildly as Daniel sat down and everyone applauded. She was next and
there was to be no running into the toilets this time. Sharon grabbed her trembling hand and
assured her she would be fine. Holly smiled back at her shakily, not feeling at all fine. Denise's
father announced that Holly was going to speak and the room turned to face her. All she could
see was a sea of faces as everyone stared up at her. She stood up slowly from her chair and
glanced over at Daniel for encouragement. He winked at her. She smiled back at him and her
heartbeat slowed down. Her friends were all there. She glanced down the room and spotted
John sitting at a table with his and Gerry's friends. John gave her the thumbs-up and Holly's
speech went out the window as a new one formed in her head. She cleared her throat.
“Please forgive me if I get a little emotional while I speak but I am just so happy for Denise
today. She is my best friend. . . ,” she paused and glanced down at Sharon beside her, “ . . . well,
one of them.”
The room laughed.
“And I am so proud of her today and delighted that she has found love with a wonderful man
like Tom.”
Holly smiled as she saw tears fill Denise's eyes. The woman who never cried.
“Finding someone you love and who loves you back is a wonderful, wonderful feeling. But
finding a true soul mate is an even better feeling. A soul mate is someone who understands you
like no other, loves you like no other, will be there for you forever, no matter what. They say
that nothing lasts forever, but I am a firm believer in the fact that for some, love lives on even
after we're gone. I know a thing or two about having someone like that, and I know that Denise
has found a soul mate in Tom. Denise, I'm glad to tell you that a bond like that will never die.”
A lump formed in Holly's throat and she took a moment to compose herself before continuing.
“I am both honored and petrified that Denise asked me to speak today.”
Everyone laughed.
“But I am delighted to have been asked to share this beautiful day with Denise and Tom, and
here's to them having many more beautiful days like this together.”
Everyone cheered and reached for their glasses.
“However!” Holly raised her voice over the crowd and held her hand up to silence them. The
noise died down and once again all eyes were on her.
“However, some guests here today will be aware of the list that a marvelous man thought up.”
Holly smiled as John's table; Sharon and Denise cheered. “And one of those rules was to never,
ever wear a 'spensive white dress.”
Holly giggled as John's table went wild and Denise broke down into hysterics remembering the
fateful night when the new rule was added to the list.
“So on behalf of Gerry,” Holly said, “I will forgive you for breaking that rule only because you
look so amazing, and I will ask you all to join me in a toast to Tom and Denise and her very,
very 'spensive white dress, and I should know, because I was dragged around every bridal shop
in Ireland!”
The guests in the room all held up their glasses and repeated, “To Tom and Denise and her very,
very 'spensive white dress!”
Holly took her seat and Sharon hugged her with tears in her eyes. “That was perfect, Holly.”
Holly's face beamed as John's table held their glasses up to her and cheered. And then the party
began.
Tears formed in Holly's eyes as she watched Tom and Denise dancing together for the first time
as husband and wife, and she remembered that feeling. That feeling of excitement, of hope, of
pure happiness and pride, a feeling of not knowing what the future held but being so ready to
face it all. And that thought made her happy; she wouldn't cry about it, she would embrace it.
She had enjoyed every second of her life with Gerry, but now it was time to move on. Move on
to the next chapter of her life, bringing wonderful memories with her and experiences that
would teach her and help mold her future. Sure it would be difficult; she had learned that
nothing was ever easy. But it didn't feel as difficult as it had a few months ago, and she assumed
that in another few months it would be even less difficult.
She had been given a wonderful gift: life. Sometimes it was cruelly taken away too soon, but it
was what you did with it that counted, not how long it lasted.
“Could I have this dance?” A hand appeared before her and she looked up to see Daniel smiling
down on her.
“Sure.” She smiled and took his hand.
“May I say that you're looking very beautiful tonight?”
“You may,” Holly smiled. She was happy with how she looked, Denise had chosen a beautiful
lilac-colored dress for her with a corset top that hid her Christmas belly, and there was a large
slit up the side. Leo had done a beautiful job with her hair, pinning it up and allowing some
curls to tumble down onto her shoulders. She felt beautiful. She felt like Princess Holly, and she
giggled to herself at the thought.
“That was a lovely speech you made,” he smiled. “I realize that what I said to you was selfish of
me. You said you weren't ready and I didn't listen,” he apologized.
“That's OK, Daniel; I don't think I'll be ready for a long, long time. But thank you for getting
over me so fast.” She raised her eyebrows and nodded over at Laura, who was sitting moodily
on her own at the table.
Daniel bit his lip. “I know it must seem crazy fast to you, but when you didn't return any of my
calls, even I got the hint you weren't ready for a relationship. And when I went home for the
holidays and met up with Laura, that old flame just sparked again. You were right, I never got
over her. Believe me, if I hadn't known with all my heart that you weren't in love with me, I
never would have brought her to the wedding.”
Holly smiled at Daniel. “Sorry for avoiding you all month. I was having a bit of 'me' time. But I
still think you're a fool.” She shook her head as she watched Laura scowl back at her.
Daniel sighed, “I know she and I have a lot to discuss over the next while and we're really going
to take things slowly, but like you said, for some people love just lives on.”
Holly threw her eyes up to heaven. “Oh, don't start quoting me on that one,” she laughed. “Ah
well, as long as you're happy, I suppose. Although I don't see how you ever will be.” She sighed
dramatically and Daniel laughed.
“I am happy, Holly, I guess I just can't live without the drama.” He glanced over at Laura, and
his eyes softened. “I need someone who is passionate about me, and for better or for worse,
Laura is passionate. What about you? Are you happy?” He studied Holly's face.
Holly thought about it. “Tonight I'm happy. I will worry about tomorrow when tomorrow
comes. But I'm getting there . . .”
Holly gathered in a huddle with Sharon, John, Denise and Tom and awaited the countdown.
“Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one! HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Everyone cheered and
balloons of all colors of the rainbow fell from the ceiling of the function room and bounced
around on the heads of the crowd.
Holly hugged her friends happily with tears in her eyes.
“Happy New Year.” Sharon squeezed her tightly and kissed her on the cheek.
Holly placed her hand over Sharon's bump and held Denise's hand tightly. “Happy New Year for
all of us!”