Cecelia Ahern - P.S. I Love You

“drunken girls,” and the explanation from one of the papers of how they were “well up for it.”

What did that even mean?

Holly's food finally arrived and she stared at it in shock, wondering how on earth she was going to get through it all. “That'll fatten you up, love,” the plump lady said, placing it on the table.

“You need a bit of meat on your bones, you're far too skinny,” she warned her, waddling off again. Holly felt pleased at the compliment.

The plate was piled high with sausages, bacon, eggs, hash browns, black and white pudding, baked beans, fried potatoes, mushrooms, tomatoes and five slices of toast. Holly looked around her with embarrassment, hoping no one would think she was a complete pig. She saw that annoying teenager heading toward her with his gang of friends again and she picked up her plate and ran inside. She hadn't had much of an appetite lately, but she finally felt ready to eat, and she wasn't going to let some stupid spotty teenager ruin it for her.

Holly must have stayed in the Greasy Spoon much longer than she thought, because by the time she reached her parents' house in Portmarnock it was almost two o'clock. Against Holly's prediction the weather hadn't gotten worse, and the sun was still sitting high in the cloudless blue sky. Holly looked across at the crowded beach in front of the house, and it was difficult to tell where the sky ended and the sea began. Busloads of people were continuously being dropped off across the road, and there was a lovely smell of suntan lotion in the air. There were gangs of teenagers hanging around the grassy area with CD players blaring out the latest tunes.

The sound and the smell brought back every happy memory from when Holly was a child.

Holly rang the doorbell for the fourth time and still no one answered. She knew somebody had to be home because the bedroom windows were wide open upstairs. Her mum and dad would never leave them wide open if they weren't home, especially with throngs of strangers wandering around the area. She walked across the grass and pressed her face against the living room window to see if there was any sign of life. She was just about to give up and wander over to the beach when she heard the screaming match between Declan and Ciara.

“CIARA, GET THE DAMN DOOR!”

“NO, I SAID! I . . . AM . . . BUSY!” she yelled back.

“WELL, SO AM I!”

Holly rang the doorbell again just to add fuel to the fire.

“DECLAN!” Ouch, that was a bloodcurdling scream.

“GET IT YOURSELF, YOU LAZY COW!”

“HA! I'M LAZY?!”

Holly took out her mobile phone and rang the house.

“CIARA, ANSWER THE PHONE!”

“NO!”

“Oh, for Christ's sake,” Holly snapped loudly and hung up the phone. She dialed Declan's mobile number.

“Yeah?”

“Declan, open the goddamn fucking door now or I'll kick it in,” Holly growled.

“Oh, sorry Holly, I thought Ciara had answered it,” he lied.

He opened the door in his boxer shorts and Holly stormed in. “Jesus Christ! I hope you two don't carry on like that every time the doorbell rings.”

He shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. “Mum and Dad are out,” he said lazily and headed up the stairs.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“Back to bed.”

“No you are not,” Holly said calmly. “You are going to sit down here with me,” she said, patting the couch, “and we're gonna have a nice long chat about 'Girls and the City.' ”

“No,” Declan moaned. “Do we have to do this now? I'm really, really tired.” He rubbed his eyes with his fists.

Holly had no sympathy for him. “Declan, it's two o'clock in the afternoon, how can you still be tired?”

“Because I only got home a few hours ago,” he said cheekily, winking at her. Now she definitely had no sympathy for him, she was just plain jealous.

“Sit!” she said, ordering him onto the couch.

He moaned again and dragged his weary body over to the couch, where he collapsed and stretched out along the entire thing, leaving no room for Holly. She rolled her eyes and dragged her dad's armchair closer to Declan.

“I feel like I'm with a shrink,” he laughed, crossing his arms behind his head and staring up at her from the couch.

“Good, because I'm really going to pick your brains.”

Declan whinged again, “Oh Holly, do we have to? We just talked about this the other night.”

“Did you honestly think that was all I was going to say? 'Oh, I'm sorry, Declan, but I didn't like the way you publicly humiliated me and my friends, see you next week'?”

“Obviously not.”

“Come on, Declan,” she said, softening her tone, “I just want to understand why you thought it would be such a great idea not to tell me you were filming me and my friends.”

“You knew I was filming,” he said defensively.

“For a documentary about club life! ” Holly raised her voice with frustration at her younger brother.

“And it was about club life,” Declan laughed.

“Oh, you think you're so bloody clever,” she snapped at him, and he stopped laughing. She counted to ten and breathed slowly to prevent herself from attacking him.

“Come on, Declan,” she said quietly. “Do you not think that I am going through enough right now without having to worry about this as well? And without even asking me? I cannot for the life of me understand why you would do it!”

Declan sat up on the couch and became serious for a change. “I know, Holly, I know you've been through hell, but I thought this would cheer you up. I wasn't lying when I said I was going to film the club because that's what I had planned on doing. But when I brought it back to college to begin the edit, everyone thought that it was just so funny that I couldn't not show it to people.”

“Yeah, but you put it on TV, Declan.”

“I didn't know that was the prize, honestly,” he said, wide-eyed. “Nobody knew, not even my lecturers! How could I say no to it when I won?”

Holly gave up and ran her fingers through her hair.

“I honestly thought you would like it,” he smiled. “I even checked with Ciara and even she said you'd like it. I'm sorry if I upset you,” he eventually mumbled.

Holly continued nodding her head through his explanation, realizing he genuinely had had good intentions, however misguided. Suddenly she stopped. What had he just said? She sat up alert in her seat. “Declan, did you just say that Ciara knew about the tape?”

Declan froze in his seat and tried to think of a way to back himself out of it. Coming up with nothing, he threw himself back onto the couch and covered his head with a cushion, knowing he had just started World War III.

“Oh Holly, don't say anything to her, she'll kill me!” came his muffled reply.

Holly bounded out of her seat and stormed upstairs, thumping her feet on every step to show Ciara she was really mad. She yelled threats at Ciara all the way up and pounded on her bedroom door.

“Don't come in!” yelled Ciara from inside.

“You are in so much trouble, Ciara!” Holly screamed. She opened the door and burst her way in, putting on her most terrifying face.

“I told you not to come in!” wailed Ciara. Holly was about to start screaming all sorts of insulting things at her sister but stopped herself when she saw Ciara sitting on the floor with what looked like a photo album on her lap and tears streaming down her face.

Twenty-one

“OH CIARA, WHAT'S WRONG?” HOLLY said soothingly to her younger sister. Holly was worried; she couldn't remember the last time she had seen her cry, in fact, she didn't know Ciara even knew how to cry. Whatever had reduced her strong sister to tears must be something serious.