Cecelia Ahern - P.S. I Love You

Gerry sat beside her.

He may even have held her hand.

Holly felt happy enough to head back to Dublin, relaxed, destressed and brown. Just what the doctor ordered. That didn't stop her from groaning when the plane landed in Dublin Airport to heavy rain. This time the passengers didn't applaud and cheer and the airport seemed like a very different place from the one she had left last week. Once again, Holly was the last person to receive her luggage, and an hour later they trudged gloomily out to John, who was waiting in the car.

“Well, it looks like the leprechaun didn't do any more work in your garden while you were away,” Denise said, looking at the garden as John reached Holly's home.

Holly gave her a friends a big hug and a kiss and made her way into her quiet, empty house.

There was a horrible musty smell inside and she moved to the kitchen patio doors to let the fresh air circulate.

She froze just as she was turning the key in the door and stared outside.

Her entire back garden had been relandscaped.

The grass was cut. The weeds were gone. The garden furniture had been polished and varnished. A fresh coat of paint gleamed from her garden walls. New flowers had been planted and in the corner, underneath the shade of the great oak tree, sat a wooden bench. Holly looked around in shock; who on earth was doing all this?

Twenty-nine

IN THE DAYS FOLLOWING HER return from Lanzarote, Holly kept a low profile. Holly, Denise and Sharon were all keen to spend the next few days apart from one another. It wasn't something they had talked about, but after living in each other's ears every day for a whole week, Holly was sure they all agreed it would be healthy to spend some time apart. Ciara was impossible to get hold of, as she was either working hard at Daniel's club or spending time with Mathew. Jack was spending his last few precious weeks of summer freedom down in Cork at Abbey's parents' house before he had to go back to school, and Declan was . . . well, who knew where Declan was.

Now she was back, she wasn't exactly bored with her life, but she wasn't exactly overjoyed either. It just seemed so . . . nothing and so pointless. She'd had the holiday to look forward to, but now felt she had no real reason to get out of bed in the morning. And as she was taking a time-out from her friends, she really had nobody else to talk to. There was only so much conversation she could have with her parents. Compared to last week's sweltering heat in Lanzarote, Dublin was wet and ugly, which meant she couldn't even work at maintaining her beautiful tan or appreciate her new back garden.

Some days she never even got out of bed, she just watched television and waited . . . waited for next month's envelope from Gerry, wondering what journey he would take her on next. She knew her friends would disapprove after she'd been so positive on holiday, but when he was alive she'd lived for him, and now that he was gone she lived for his messages. Everything was about him. She had truly believed that her purpose in life had been to meet Gerry and enjoy all their days together for the rest of their lives. What was her purpose now? Surely she had one, or perhaps there had been an error in the administration up above.

Something that she did feel she should do was to catch the leprechaun. After further interrogation of her neighbors she still knew nothing more of her mystery gardener, and she was beginning to think the whole thing had just been an awful mistake. Eventually she had herself convinced that a gardener had made a mistake and that he was working on the wrong garden, so she checked the post every day for a bill that she was going to refuse to pay. But no bill arrived, of that variety anyway. Plenty of others arrived and she was running out of money fast. She had loans up to her eyeballs, electricity bills, phone bills, insurance bills, everything that came through her door was a bloody bill, and she hadn't a clue how she was going to continue paying them all. But she didn't even care; she had become numb to all those irrelevant problems in life.

She just dreamed the impossible dreams.

One day Holly realized why the leprechaun hadn't returned. Her garden was only tidied when she wasn't home. So she got out of bed early one morning and drove her car around the corner from her house. She walked back home and settled down on her bed and waited for her mystery gardener to appear.

After three days of Holly repeating this behavior, the rain finally stopped and the sun began to shine again. Holly was about to give up hope of ever solving her mystery when she heard someone approach her garden. She jumped out of bed in a panic, unprepared for what she should do, even though she had spent days planning. She peeped over her windowsill and spotted a young boy who looked about twelve years old walking down her drive tugging a lawnmower along behind him. She threw on Gerry's oversized dressing gown and raced down the stairs not caring what she looked like.

She pulled open the front door, causing the young boy to jump. His arm froze in midair and his finger hovered just over the doorbell. His mouth dropped open at the sight of the woman in front of him.

“A-ha!” Holly yelled happily. “I think I caught my little leprechaun!”

His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish's; he was clearly unsure of what to say. Eventually he scrunched up his face as though he were about to cry and screamed, “Da!”

Holly looked up and down the road in search of his father and decided to squeeze as much information out of the boy as she could before the adult reached them.

“So you're the one who's been working on my garden.” She folded her arms across her chest.

He shook his head wildly and gulped.

“You don't have to deny it,” she said gently, “you've been caught now.” She nodded over at the lawnmower.

He turned around to stare at it and yelled again, “Da!” His dad slammed the door of a van and made his way over to her house.

“What's wrong, son?” He wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders and looked at Holly for an explanation.

Holly wasn't going to fall for this little charade. “I was just asking your son here about your little scam.”

“What scam?” He looked angry.

“The one where you work on my garden without my permission and then you expect me to pay for it. I've heard about this kind of thing before.” She put her hands on her hips and tried to look like she couldn't be messed with.

The man looked confused. “Sorry, I don't know what you're talking about, missus. We've never worked on your garden before.” He stared around at the state of her front garden, thinking the woman was insane.

“Not this garden, you landscaped my back garden.” She smiled and raised her eyebrows, thinking she had caught him.

He laughed back at her. “Landscaped your garden? Lady, are you mad? We cut grass, that's all.

See this? This is a lawnmower, nothing else. All it does is cut the bloody grass.”

Holly dropped her hands from her hips and slowly placed them in the pockets of her gown.

Maybe they were telling the truth. “Are you sure you haven't been in my garden?” she squinted her eyes.

“Lady, I have never even worked on this street before, never mind your garden, and I can guarantee I won't be working in your garden in the future.”

Holly's face fell. “But I thought–”

“I don't care what you thought,” he interrupted. “In future, you try to get your facts straight before you start terrorizing my kid.”

Holly looked at the young boy and saw his eyes fill with tears. Her hands flew to her mouth with embarrassment. “Gosh, I'm so sorry,” she apologized. “Just hold on there a minute.”