PS, I Love You

‘Who are you?’ croaked Holly again.

‘My name is Sharon, I think,’ came the reply, ‘although don’t ask me who Sharon is because I don’t know. The man beside me in bed seems to think I know him.’

Holly heard John laughing loudly in the background.

‘Sharon, what happened last night? Please enlighten me.’

‘Alcohol happened,’ said Sharon drowsily, ‘lots and lots of alcohol.’

‘Any other information?’

‘Nope.’

‘Know what time it is?’

‘Two o’clock.’

‘Why are you ringing me at this hour of the morning?’

‘It’s the afternoon, Holly.’

‘Oh. How did that happen?’

‘Gravity or something. I was out that day from school.’

‘Oh God, I think I’m dying.’

‘Me too.’

‘I think I’ll just go back to sleep. Maybe when I wake up the ground will have stopped moving.’

‘Good idea. Oh, and, Holly, welcome to the thirties club.’

Holly groaned. ‘I have not started as I mean to go on. From now on I will be a sensible, mature thirty-year-old woman.’

‘Yeah, that’s what I said too. Good night.’

‘Night.’ Seconds later Holly was asleep. She awoke at various stages during the day to answer the phone, the conversations all seeming part of her dreams. And she made many trips to the kitchen for water to rehydrate herself.

Eventually, at nine o’clock that night, Holly succumbed to her stomach’s screaming demands for food. As usual there was nothing in the fridge so she decided to treat herself to a Chinese takeaway. She sat snuggled up on the couch in her pyjamas watching the very best of Saturday night TV while stuffing her face. After the trauma of being without Gerry for her birthday the previous day, Holly was surprised to notice that she felt very content with herself. It was the first time since Gerry died that she was comfortable with her own company. There was a slight chance she could make it without him.

Later that night Jack called her on her mobile. ‘Hey, sis, what are you doing?’

‘Watching TV, having Chinese,’ she said.

‘Well, you sound in good form. Unlike my poor girlfriend, who’s suffering here beside me.’

‘I’m never going out with you again, Holly,’ she heard Abbey scream weakly in the background.

‘You and your friends perverted her mind,’ he joked.

‘Don’t blame me. She was doing just fine all by herself as far as I remember.’

‘She says she can’t remember anything.’

‘Neither can I. Maybe it’s something that happens as soon as you hit thirty. I was never like this before.’

‘Or maybe it’s just an evil plan you all hatched so you wouldn’t have to tell us what you got up to.’

‘I wish it was … Oh, thanks for the pressie by the way, it’s beautiful.’

‘Glad you like it. It took me ages to find the right one.’

‘Liar.’

He laughed. ‘Anyway, I was ringing to ask you if you’re going to Declan’s gig tomorrow night.’

‘Where is it?’

‘Hogan’s pub.’

‘No way. There is no way I’m ever setting foot in a pub again, especially to listen to some loud rock band with screeching guitars and noisy drums,’ Holly told him.

‘Oh, it’s the old, “I’m never drinking again” excuse, is it? Well, don’t drink then. Please come, Holly. Declan’s really excited about it and no one else will come.’

‘Ha! So I’m the last resort, am I? Nice to know you think so highly of me.’

‘No, you’re not. Declan would love to see you there and we hardly got a chance to talk at dinner. We haven’t gone out for ages,’ he pleaded.

‘Well, we’re hardly going to have a heart-to-heart with the Orgasmic Fish banging out their tunes,’ she said sarcastically.

‘They’re actually called Black Strawberries now, which has a much sweeter ring to it, I think,’ he laughed.

Holly held her head in her hands and groaned, ‘Oh, please don’t make me go, Jack.’

‘You’re going.’

‘OK, but I’m not staying for the whole thing.’

‘We can discuss that when we get there. Declan will be chuffed when I tell him; the family never usually goes to these things.’

‘OK then, about eight-ish?’

‘Perfect.’

Holly hung up and sat stuck to the couch for another few hours. She felt so full, she couldn’t move. Maybe that Chinese hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

CHAPTER NINE

Holly arrived in Hogan’s pub feeling a lot fresher than the day before, but her reactions were still a little slower than usual. Her hangovers seemed to be getting worse as she got older, and yesterday took the gold medal for the hangover of all hangovers. She had gone for a long walk along the coast from Malahide to Portmarnock earlier that day, and the crisp fresh breeze had helped to clear her fuzzy head. She had called in to her parents for Sunday dinner, when they presented her with a beautiful Waterford Crystal vase for her birthday. It had been a wonderful relaxing day and she almost had to drag herself off the comfortable couch to go to Hogan’s.

Hogan’s was a popular three-storey building situated in the centre of town, and even on a Sunday the place was jammed. The first floor was a trendy nightclub that played all the latest music from the charts. It was where the young beautiful people went to show off their latest fashions. The ground floor was a traditional Irish pub for the older crowd (usually containing old men perched up on their bar stools, bent over their pints, contemplating life). A few nights a week there was a traditional Irish music band that played all the old favourites, which was popular with the young and old. The basement, where bands usually played, was dark and dingy, and the clientele was purely students. Holly seemed to be the oldest person in there. The bar consisted of a tiny counter in the corner of the long hall and was surrounded by a huge crowd of young students dressed in scruffy jeans and ripped T-shirts, pushing each other violently in order to be served. The bar staff also looked as if they should be in school, and were rushing around at a hundred miles per hour with sweat dripping from their faces.

The basement was stuffy, with no ventilation or air conditioning at all, and Holly was finding it difficult to breathe in the smoky air. Practically everyone around her seemed to be smoking and her eyes were already stinging. She dreaded to think what it might be like in an hour’s time.

She waved at Declan to let him know she was there but decided not to make her way over as he was surrounded by a crowd of girls. She didn’t want to cramp his style. Holly had missed out on the whole student scene when she was younger. She had decided not to go to college after school and instead begun working as a secretary, moving from job to job every few months, ending with the awful job she had left so she could spend time with Gerry while he was sick. She doubted she would have stayed in it that much longer anyway. Gerry had studied Marketing at Dublin City University but he never socialised much with his college friends. Instead he chose to go out with Holly, Sharon and John, Denise and whoever she was with at the time. Looking around at everyone, Holly didn’t feel that she had missed anything special.

Finally Declan managed to tear himself away from his female fans and made his way over to Holly.

‘Well, hello, Mr Popular. I feel privileged you chose me to speak to next.’ All the girls stared Holly up and down and wondered what the hell Declan saw in this older woman.

Declan laughed and rubbed his hands together cheekily. ‘I know! This band business is great. Looks like I’ll be getting a bit of action tonight,’ he said cockily.

‘As your sister it’s always a pleasure to be informed of that,’ Holly replied sarcastically. She was finding it impossible to maintain a conversation with Declan as he refused eye contact with her and instead was scouring the crowds.

‘OK, Declan, just go, why don’t you, and flirt with these beauties instead of being stuck here with your old sister?’

‘Oh no, it’s not that,’ he said defensively. ‘It’s just that we were told there might be a record company guy coming to see us play tonight.’

‘Oh, cool!’ Holly’s eyes widened with excitement. This obviously meant a lot to her brother and she felt guilty for never taking an interest in it before. She glanced around and tried to spot someone who might be a record company person. What would they look like? It’s not as if they would be sitting in the corner with a notebook scribbling furiously. Finally her eyes fell upon a man who seemed much older than the rest of the crowd, more her own age. He was dressed in a black leather jacket, black slacks and a black T-shirt, and stood with his hands on his hips staring at the stage. Yes, he was definitely a record company guy. He had stubble all around his jaw and looked like he hadn’t been to bed for days. He probably smelled bad as well. Or else he was just a weirdo who liked to go to student nights and ogle all the young girls. Also a possibility.

‘Over there, Deco!’ Holly raised her voice over the noise and pointed at the man.

Declan looked excited and his eyes followed to where her finger pointed. His smile faded as he obviously recognised the man. ‘No, it’s just DANNY!’ he yelled, and wolf-whistled to grab the guy’s attention.

Danny twirled round, trying to find his caller, nodded his head in recognition and made his way over.

‘Hey, man,’ Declan said, shaking his hand.

‘Hi, Declan, how are you set?’ The man looked stressed.

‘Yeah, OK,’ Declan nodded unenthusiastically. Somebody must have told Declan that acting like you didn’t care was cool.

‘Sound check go OK?’

‘There were a few problems but we sorted them out.’

‘So everything’s OK?’

‘Sure.’

‘Good.’ His face relaxed and he turned to face Holly. ‘Sorry for ignoring you there. I’m Daniel.’

‘Nice to meet you. I’m Holly.’

‘Oh, sorry,’ Declan interrupted. ‘Holly, this is the owner; Daniel, this is my sister.’

‘Sister? Wow you look nothing alike.’

‘Thank God,’ Holly mouthed to Daniel so Declan couldn’t see, and he laughed.

‘Hey, Deco, we’re on!’ yelled a blue-haired boy at him.

‘See you two later,’ and Declan ran off.

‘Good luck!’ yelled Holly after him. ‘So you’re a Hogan,’ she said, turning to face Daniel.

‘Well, no, actually I’m a Connolly,’ he smiled. ‘I just took over the place a few weeks ago.’

‘Oh.’ Holly was surprised. ‘I didn’t know they’d sold it. So are you going to change it to Connolly’s then?’

‘Can’t afford all the lettering on the front. It’s a bit long.’

Holly laughed. ‘Well, everyone knows the name Hogan’s at this stage; it would probably be stupid to change it.’

Daniel nodded in agreement. ‘That was the main reason, actually.’

Suddenly Jack appeared at the main entrance and Holly waved him over. ‘I’m so sorry I’m late. Did I miss anything?’ he said, giving her a hug and a kiss.

‘Nope, he’s just about to go on now. Jack, this is Daniel, the owner.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ Daniel said, shaking his hand.

‘Are they any good?’ Jack asked him, nodding his head in the direction of the stage.

‘To tell you the truth, I’ve never even heard them play,’ Daniel said worriedly.

‘That was brave of you!’ laughed Jack.

‘I hope not too brave,’ he said, turning to face the front as the boys took to the stage.

‘I recognise a few faces here,’ Jack said, scanning the crowd. ‘Most of them are under eighteen as well.’

A young girl dressed in ripped jeans and a belly top walked slowly by Jack with an unsure smile on her face. She placed her finger over her lip. Jack smiled and nodded back.

Holly looked at Jack questioningly. ‘What was that about?’

‘Oh, I teach her English. She’s only sixteen or seventeen. She’s a good girl, though.’ Jack stared after her as she walked by, then added, ‘But she’d better not be late for class tomorrow.’

Holly watched the girl down a pint with her friends, wishing she had had a teacher at school like Jack; all the students seemed to love him. And it was easy to see why: he was a lovable kind of person. ‘Well, don’t tell him they’re under eighteen,’ Holly said under her breath, nodding in the direction of Daniel.

The crowd cheered and Declan took on his moody persona as he lifted his guitar strap over his shoulder. The music started and after that there was no chance of carrying on any kind of conversation. The crowd began to jump up and down, and once too often Holly’s foot was stomped on. Jack just looked at her and laughed, amused at her obvious discomfort.

‘CAN I GET YOU TWO A DRINK?’ Daniel yelled, making a drinking motion with his hand. Jack asked for a pint of Budweiser while Holly settled for a 7-Up. They watched Daniel battle through the moshing crowd and climb behind the bar to fix the drinks. He returned minutes later with their glasses and a stool for Holly. She and Jack turned their attention back to the stage and watched their brother perform. The music really wasn’t Holly’s type of thing, and it was so loud and noisy it was difficult for her to tell if they were actually any good. It was a far cry from the soothing sounds of her favourite Westlife CD.

After four songs Holly had had enough, and gave Jack a hug and a kiss goodbye. ‘TELL DECLAN I STAYED TILL THE END!’ she yelled. ‘NICE MEETING YOU, DANIEL! THANKS FOR THE DRINK!’ she screamed, and made her way back to civilisation and cool fresh air.

Her ears continued to ring all the way home in the car. It was ten o’clock by the time she got there. Only two more hours till May. And that meant she could open another envelope.

Holly sat at her kitchen table nervously drumming her fingers on the wood. She gulped back her third cup of coffee and uncrossed her legs. Staying awake for just two more hours had proved more difficult than she’d anticipated; she was obviously still tired from overindulging at her party the night before last. She tapped her feet under the table with no particular rhythm, and then crossed her legs again. It was eleven thirty. She had the envelope on the table in front of her and she could almost see it sticking its tongue out and singing ‘Nah nah na-nah nah.’

She picked it up and ran her hands over it. Who would know if she opened it early? Sharon and John had probably forgotten there was even an envelope for May, and Denise was no doubt conked out after the stress of her two-day hangover. Holly could just as easily lie if they ever asked her, but then again they probably wouldn’t even care. No one would know and no one would care.

But that wasn’t true.

Gerry would know.

Each time Holly held the envelopes in her hand she felt a connection with Gerry. The last two times she’d opened them she’d felt as though Gerry were sitting right beside her and laughing at her reactions. She felt as if they were playing a game together, even though they were in two different worlds. But she could feel him, and he would know if she cheated, he would know if she disobeyed the rules of their game.

After another cup of coffee Holly was bouncing off the walls. The small hand of the clock seemed to be auditioning for a part in Baywatch with its slow-motion run around the dial, but eventually it struck midnight. Once again she slowly turned the envelope over and treasured every moment of the process. Gerry sat opposite her at the table. ‘Go on: open it!’

She carefully tore open the seal and ran her fingers along it, knowing the last thing that touched this was Gerry’s tongue. She slid the card out of its pouch and opened it.

Go on, disco diva! Face your fear of karaoke at Club Diva this month, and you never know, you might be rewarded …

PS. I love you …

She felt Gerry watching her and the corners of her lips lifted into a smile. She began to laugh, repeating, ‘NO WAY!’ whenever she caught her breath. Finally she calmed down and announced to the room, ‘Gerry! You bastard! There is absolutely no way I am going through with this!’

Gerry laughed louder.

‘This is not funny. You know how I feel about karaoke, and I refuse to do it. Nope. No way. Not doing it.’

‘You have to do it, you know,’ laughed Gerry.

‘I do not have to do this!’

‘Do it for me.’

‘I am not doing it for you, for me or for world peace. I hate karaoke!’

‘Do it for me,’ he repeated.

The sound of the phone caused Holly to jump in her seat.

It was Sharon. ‘OK, it’s five past twelve, what did it say? John and I are dying to know!’

‘What makes you think I opened it?’

‘Ha!’ Sharon snorted. ‘Twenty years of friendship qualifies me as an expert; now come on, tell us what it says.’

‘I’m not doing it,’ Holly stated bluntly.

‘What? You’re not telling us?’

‘No, I’m not doing what he wants me to do.’

‘Why, what is it?’

‘Oh, just Gerry’s pathetic attempt at being humorous,’ she snapped at the ceiling.

‘I’m intrigued now,’ Sharon said. ‘Tell us.’

‘Holly, spill the beans, what is it?’ John was on the downstairs phone.

‘OK … Gerry wants me … to … singatakaraoke,’ she rushed out.

‘Huh? Holly, we didn’t understand a word you said,’ Sharon gave out.

‘No, I did,’ interrupted John. ‘I think I heard something about karaoke. Am I right?’

‘Yes,’ Holly replied.

‘And do you have to sing?’ enquired Sharon.

‘Ye-eess,’ she replied slowly. Maybe if she didn’t say it, it wouldn’t have to happen.

The others burst out laughing so loud, Holly had to remove the phone from her ear. ‘Phone me back when the two of you shut up,’ she said angrily, hanging up.

A few minutes later they called back.

‘Yes?’

She heard Sharon snort down the phone, relapse into a fit of the giggles and then the line went dead.

Ten minutes later she phoned back.

‘Yes?’

‘OK.’ Sharon had an overly serious ‘let’s get down to business’ tone in her voice. ‘I’m sorry about that, I’m fine now. Don’t look at me, John,’ she said away from the phone. ‘I’m sorry, Holly, but I just kept thinking about the last time you—’

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ Holly interrupted, ‘you don’t need to bring it back up. It was the most embarrassing day of my life so I just happen to remember it. That’s why I’m not doing it.’

‘Oh, Holly, you can’t let a stupid thing like that put you off!’

‘Well, if that wouldn’t put a person off, then they’re clinically insane!’

‘Holly, it was only a little fall …’

‘Yes, thank you! I remember it just fine! Anyway, I can’t even sing, Sharon; I think I established that fact marvellously the last time!’

Sharon was very quiet.

‘Sharon?’

More silence.

‘Sharon, you still there?’

There was no answer.

‘Sharon, are you laughing?’ Holly gave out.

Holly heard a little squeak and the line went dead.

‘What wonderfully supportive friends I have,’ she muttered under her breath.

‘Oh, Gerry!’ she yelled. ‘I thought you were supposed to be helping me, not turning me into a nervous wreck!’

She got very little sleep that night.

CHAPTER TEN

‘Happy birthday, Holly! Or should I say Happy belated birthday?’ Richard laughed nervously. Holly’s mouth dropped open in shock at the sight of her older brother standing on her doorstep. This was a rare occurrence; in fact it may even have been a first. She opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish, completely unsure what to say.

‘I brought you a potted mini phalaenopsis orchid,’ he said, handing her a plant. ‘They have been shipped fresh, budding and are ready to bloom.’ He sounded like an advertisement.

Holly was even more stunned. She fingered the tiny pink buds. ‘Gosh, Richard, orchids are my favourite!’

‘Well, you have a nice big garden here anyway, nice and …’ he cleared his throat, ‘green. Bit overgrown, though …’ he trailed off and began that annoying rocking thing he did with his feet.

‘Would you like to come in or are you just passing through?’ Please say no, please say no. Despite the thoughtful gift, Holly was in no mood for Richard’s company.

‘Well, yes, I’ll come in for a little while so.’ He wiped his feet for a good two minutes at the door before stepping into the house. He reminded Holly of her old maths teacher at school, dressed in a brown knitted cardigan with brown trousers that stopped just at the top of his neat little brown loafers. He hadn’t a hair on his head out of place and his fingernails were clean and perfectly manicured. Holly could imagine him measuring them with a little ruler every night to see that they didn’t outgrow the required European standard length for fingernails, if such a thing existed.

Richard never seemed comfortable in his own skin. He looked as if he was being choked to death by his tightly knotted (brown) tie, and he always walked as if he had a barge pole shoved up his backside. On the rare occasions that he smiled, the smile never quite managed to reach his eyes. He was the drill sergeant of his own body, screaming at it and punishing himself every time he lapsed into human mode. The sad thing was that he thought he was better off than everyone else for it. Holly led him into the living room and placed the ceramic pot on top of the TV for the time being.

‘No, no, Holly,’ Richard said, wagging a finger at her as though she was a naughty child, ‘you shouldn’t put it there. It needs to be in a cool, draught-free location away from harsh sunlight and heat vents.’

‘Oh, of course.’ Holly picked the pot back up and searched around the room in panic for a suitable place. What had he said? A draught-free, warm location? How did he always manage to make her feel like an incompetent little girl?

‘How about that little table in the centre? It should be safe there.’

Holly did as she was told and placed the pot on the table, half expecting him to say ‘good girl’. Thankfully he didn’t.

Richard took his favourite position at the fireplace and surveyed the room. ‘Your house is very clean,’ he commented.

‘Thank you. I just, eh … cleaned it.’

He nodded as if he already knew.

‘Can I get you a tea or a coffee?’ she asked, expecting him to say no.

‘Yes, great,’ he said, clapping his hands together. ‘Tea would be splendid. Just milk no sugar.’

Holly returned from the kitchen with two mugs of tea and placed them down on the coffee table. She hoped the steam rising from the mugs wouldn’t murder the poor plant. It being a heat vent and all.

‘You just need to water it regularly and feed it during the spring months.’ He was still talking about the plant. Holly nodded, knowing full well she would not do either of those things.

‘I didn’t know you had green fingers, Richard,’ she said, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

‘Only when I’m painting with the children,’ he laughed, cracking a rare joke.

‘Do you do much work in your garden?’ Holly was anxious to keep the conversation flowing; as the house was so quiet every silence was amplified.

‘Oh, yes, I love to work in the garden.’ His eyes lit up. ‘Saturdays are my garden days,’ he said, smiling into his mug of tea.

Holly felt as though a complete stranger was sitting beside her. She realised she knew very little about her brother and he equally knew very little about her. But that was the way Richard had always liked to keep things. He had distanced himself from the family even when they were younger. He never shared exciting news with them or even told them how his day went. He was just full of facts, facts and more facts. The first time the family had even heard of Meredith was the day they both came over for dinner to announce their engagement. Unfortunately, by that stage it was too late to convince him not to marry the flame-haired, green-eyed dragon. Not that he would have listened, anyway.

‘So,’ she announced far too loudly for the echoing room, ‘anything strange or startling?’ Like why are you here?