Cecelia Ahern - P.S. I Love You

“That was nice.” Denise sipped her wine. “When was it by the way?”

“He went in at the end of November.”

“November?” Sharon looked thoughtful. “That was after the second operation.”

Holly nodded. “The girl said he was pretty weak when he went in.”

“Isn't it funny that none of us had any idea at all?” Sharon said, still astonished by the whole thing.

They all nodded silently.

“Well, it looks like we're all off to Lanzarote!” Denise cheered and she held her glass up. “To Gerry!”

“To Gerry!” Holly and Sharon joined in.

“Are you sure Tom and John won't mind?” Holly asked, suddenly aware that the girls had partners to think of.

“Of course John won't mind!” Sharon laughed. “He'll probably be delighted to be rid of me for a week!”

“Yeah, and me and Tom can go away for a week another time, which actually suits me fine,”

agreed Denise. “Because that way we're not stuck together for two weeks on our first holiday together!” she laughed.

“Sure you two practically live together anyway!” Sharon said, nudging her.

Denise gave a quick smile but didn't answer and the two of them dropped the subject. That annoyed Holly, because they were always doing that. She wanted to hear how her friends were getting on in their relationships but nobody seemed to tell her any of the juicy gossip out of fear of hurting her. People seemed to be afraid to tell her about how happy they were or about the good news in their lives. Then again they also refused to moan about the bad things. So instead of being informed of what was really going on in her friends' lives she was stuck with this mediocre chitchat about . . . nothing, really, and it was starting to bother her. She couldn't be shielded from other people's happiness forever, what good would that do her?

“I have to say that leprechaun really is doing a great job on your garden, Holly,” Denise cut into her thoughts as she looked out the window.

Holly blushed. “Oh I know. I'm sorry for being a bitch earlier, Denise,” she apologized. “I suppose I should really go next door and thank him properly.”

After Denise and Sharon had headed off home Holly grabbed a bottle of wine from under the stairs and carried it next door to her neighbor. She rang the bell and waited.

“Hi Holly,” Derek said, opening the door. “Come in, come in.”

Holly looked past him and into the kitchen and saw the family sitting around the table eating dinner. She backed away from the door slightly.

“No, I won't disturb you, I just came by to give you this”–she handed him the bottle of wine–“as a token of my thanks.”

“Well Holly, this is really thoughtful of you,” he said, reading the label. Then he looked up with a confused expression on his face. “But thanks for what, if you don't mind me asking?”

“Oh, for tidying up my garden,” she said, blushing. “I'm sure the entire estate was cursing me for ruining the appearance of the street,” she laughed.

“Holly, your garden certainly isn't a worry to anyone, we all understand, but I haven't been tidying it for you, I'm sorry to say.”

“Oh.” Holly cleared her throat, feeling very embarrassed. “I thought you had been.”

“No, no.” He shook his head.

“Well, you wouldn't by any chance know who has been?” she laughed like an idiot.

“No, I have no idea,” he said, looking very confused. “I thought it was you, to be honest. How odd.”

Holly wasn't quite sure what to say next.

“So perhaps you would like to take this back,” he said awkwardly, thrusting the wine bottle toward her.

“Oh no, that's OK,” she laughed again, “you can keep that as thanks for . . . not being neighbors from hell. Anyway, I'll let you get back to dinner.” She ran off down the driveway with her face burning with embarrassment. What kind of fool wouldn't know who was tidying her own garden?

She knocked on a few more doors around the estate and to her continued embarrassment nobody seemed to know what she was talking about. Everyone seemed to have jobs and lives, and remarkably enough they didn't spend their days monitoring her garden. She returned to her house even more confused. As she walked in the door the phone was ringing and she ran to answer it.

“Hello?” she panted.

“What were you doing, running a marathon?”

“No, I was chasing leprechauns,” Holly explained.

“Oh, cool.”

The oddest thing was that Ciara didn't even question her.

“It's my birthday in two weeks.”

Holly had completely forgotten. “Yeah, I know,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Well, Mum and Dad want us all to go out for a family dinner . . .”

Holly groaned loudly.

“Exactly,” and she screamed away from the phone, “Dad, Holly said the same thing as me.”

Holly giggled as she heard her father cursing and grumbling in the background.

Ciara returned to the phone and spoke loudly so her father could hear, “OK, so my idea is to go ahead with the family dinner but to invite friends as well so that it can actually be an enjoyable night. What do you think?”

“Sounds good,” Holly agreed.

Ciara screamed away from the phone, “Dad, Holly agrees with my idea.”

“That's all very well,” Holly heard her dad yelling, “but I'm not paying for all those people to eat.”

“He has a point.” Holly added, “Tell you what, why don't we have a barbecue? That way Dad can be in his element and it won't be so expensive.”

“Hey, that's a cool idea!” Ciara screamed away from the phone once again, “Dad, what about having a barbecue?”

There was a silence.

“He's loving that idea,” Ciara giggled. “Mr. Super Chef will once again cook for the masses.”

Holly also giggled at the thought. Her dad got so excited when they had barbecues; he took the whole thing so seriously and stood by the barbecue constantly while watching over his wonderful creations. Gerry had been like that too. What was it with men and barbecues?

Probably it was the only thing that the two of them could actually cook, either that or they were closet pyromaniacs.

“OK, so will you tell Sharon and John, Denise and her DJ bloke, and will you ask that Daniel guy to come too? He's yummy!” she laughed hysterically.

“Ciara, I hardly know the guy. Ask Declan to ask him, he sees him all the time.”

“No, because I want you to subtly tell him that I love him and want to have his babies.

Somehow I don't think Declan would feel very comfortable doing that.”

Holly groaned.

“Stop it!” Ciara gave out, “He's my birthday treat!”

“OK,” she gave in, “but why do you want all my friends there, what about your friends?”

“Holly, I've lost contact with all my friends, I've been away for so long. And all my other friends are in Australia and the stupid bastards haven't bothered to call me,” she huffed.

Holly knew to whom she was referring. “But don't you think this would be a great opportunity to catch up with your old friends? You know, invite them to a barbecue; it's a nice, relaxed atmosphere.”

“Yeah right, what would I have to tell them when they start asking questions? Have you a job?

Eh . . . no. Have you a boyfriend? Eh . . . no. Where do you live? Eh . . . actually I still live with my parents. How pathetic would I sound?”

Holly gave up. “OK, whatever . . . anyway, I'll call the others and . . .”

Ciara had already hung up.

Holly decided to get the most awkward phone call out of the way first and she dialed the number to Hogan's.

“Hello, Hogan's.”

“Hi, can I speak to Daniel Connelly, please?”

“Yeah, hold on.” She was put on hold and “Greensleeves” belted out into her ear.