Cecelia Ahern - P.S. I Love You

“Supposing we let her in then, you'll have to stay outside,” Mustache Man said and motioned for the people behind them in the queue to pass by and enter the club. Holly gave them a royal wave as they passed.

“Oh, no no no no,” Denise laughed. “You don't understand. I am her . . . lady-in-waiting, so I need to be with her at all times.”

“Well then, you won't mind waiting till she comes out at closing time then,” Paul smirked.

Tom, Jack and John all started laughing and Denise slithered down even further in her seat.

Finally Holly spoke. “Oh, one must have a drink. One is dreadfully thirsty.”

Paul and Mustache Man snorted and tried to keep a straight face while still staring over their heads.

“No, honestly, girls, not tonight, you need to be a member.”

“But I am a member of the royal family!” Holly said sternly. “Off with your heads!” she commanded, pointing at the both of them.

Denise quickly forced Holly's arm down. “Honestly, the princess and I will be no trouble at all, just let us in for a few drinks,” she pleaded.

Mustache Man stared down at the two of them then raised his eyes to the sky. “All right then, go on in,” he said, stepping aside.

“God bless you,” Holly said, making the sign of the cross at them as she passed.

“What is she, a princess or a priest?” laughed Paul as she entered the club.

“She's out of her mind,” laughed Mustache Man, “but it's the best excuse I've heard while I've been on the job,” and the two of them sniggered. They regained their composure as Ciara and her entourage approached the door.

“Is it OK if my film crew follow me in?” Ciara said confidently in a brilliant Australian accent.

“Hold on while I check with the manager.” Paul turned his back and spoke into the walkie-talkie. “Yeah, that's no problem, go ahead,” he said, holding the door open for her.

“That's that Australian singer, isn't it?” Mustache Man said to Paul.

“Yeah, good song that.”

“Tell the boys inside to keep an eye on the princess and her lady,” said Mustache Man. “We don't want them bothering that singer with the pink hair.”

Holly's father choked on his drink from laughing, and Elizabeth rubbed his back for him while giggling herself.

As Holly watched the image of the inside of Boudoir on the screen she remembered being disappointed by the club. There had always been a mystery as to what “Boudoir” looked like.

The girls had read in a magazine that there was a water feature inside that Madonna had apparently jumped into one night. Holly had imagined a huge waterfall cascading down the wall of the club that continued to flow in little bubbling streams all around the club while all the glamorous people sat around it and occasionally dipped their glasses into it to fill them with more champagne. But instead of her champagne waterfall, what Holly got was an oversized fish bowl in the center of the circular bar. What that had to do with anything she didn't know. Her dreams were shattered. The room wasn't as big as Holly thought it would be, and it was decorated in rich reds and gold. On the far side of the room was a huge gold curtain acting as a partition, which was blocked by another menacing-looking bouncer.

At the top of the room the main attraction was a massive king-size bed, which was tilted on a platform toward the rest of the club. On top of the gold silk sheets were two skinny models dressed in no more than gold body paint and tiny gold thongs. It was all a bit too tacky.

“Look at the size of those thongs!” gasped Denise in disgust. “I have a plaster on my baby finger bigger than those.”

Beside her in Club Diva, Tom chuckled and began to nibble on Denise's baby finger. Holly looked away and returned her gaze to the screen.

“Good evening and welcome to the twelve o'clock news, I'm Sharon McCarthy.” Sharon stood in front of the camera with a bottle in her hand serving as a microphone, and Declan had angled the camera so that she could get Ireland's famous newsreaders in the shot.

“Today on the thirtieth birthday of Princess Holly of Finland, her royal self and her lady-in-waiting finally succeeded in being granted access to the famous celebrity hangout Boudoir. Also present is Australian rock chick Ciara and her film crew and . . .” She held her finger to her ear as though she were receiving more information. “News just in, it appears that Ireland's favorite newsreader Tony Walsh was seen smiling just moments ago. Here beside me I have a witness to the fact. Welcome, Denise.” Denise posed seductively at the camera. “Denise, tell me, where were you when this event was taking place?”

“Well, I was just over there beside his table when I saw it happening.” Denise sucked in her cheekbones and smiled at the camera.

“Can you explain to us what happened?”

“Well, I was just standing there minding my own business when Mr. Walsh took a sip of his drink and then shortly afterward he smiled.”

“Gosh, Denise, this is fascinating news. Are you sure it was a smile?”

“Well, it could have been trapped wind causing him to make a face, but others around me also thought it was a smile.”

“So there were others who witnessed this?”

“Yes, Princess Holly beside me here saw the whole thing.”

The camera panned across to Holly where she stood drinking from a champagne bottle with a straw. “So Holly, can you tell us, was it wind or a smile?”

Holly looked confused then rolled her eyes. “Oh wind, sorry, I think it's this champagne that's doing it to me.”

Club Diva erupted in laughter. Jack as usual laughed the loudest. Holly hid her face in shame.

“OK then. . . ,” Sharon said, trying not to laugh. “So you heard it here first. The night when Ireland's grimmest presenter was seen smiling. Back to you at the studio.” Sharon's smile faded as she looked up and saw Tony Walsh standing beside her, not surprisingly without a smile on his face.

Sharon gulped and said, “Good evening,” and the camera was switched off. Everyone in the club was laughing at this stage, including the girls. Holly was finding the whole thing just so ridiculous that she had to laugh.

The camera was switched back on and this time it was focused on the mirror in the ladies' toilet.

Declan was filming from outside through a slit in the doorway and Denise and Sharon's reflections were clearly visible.

“I was only having a laugh,” Sharon huffed, fixing her lipstick.

“Don't mind the miserable sod, Sharon, he just doesn't want the camera in his face all night, especially on his night off. I can understand that.”

“Oh, you're on his side, I suppose,” Sharon said grumpily.

“Ah shut up, you moany old whore,” Denise snapped.

“Where's Holly?” Sharon asked, changing the subject.

“Don't know, last time I saw her she was doing a few funky moves on the dance floor,” said Denise. The two of them looked at each other and laughed.

“Ah . . . our poor little Disco Diva,” said Sharon sadly. “I hope she finds someone gorgeous out there tonight and snogs the face off him.”

“Yeah,” agreed Denise. “Come on then, let's go find her a man,” she said, putting her makeup back in her bag.

Just after the girls left the toilet another toilet flushed from the cubicle. The door opened and out stepped Holly. Holly's big smile faded quickly when she saw her face on the screen.

Through the crack in the door you could see Holly's reflection in the mirror; her eyes were red from crying. She blew her nose and stared miserably at herself in the mirror for a while. She took a deep breath and opened the door and carried on downstairs to her friends. Holly hadn't remembered crying that night; in fact, she thought she had gotten through it very well. She rubbed her face while she worried about what else was coming up next that she couldn't remember.