Cecelia Ahern - P.S. I Love You

“And adverts,” Holly joked.

“Well, it won't have such good adverts if Holly Kennedy isn't working for them,” she said kindly.

“Thanks, but I really don't think I will be working there.”

“Why, what was so wrong with the interview? You can't have been that bad.” Sharon looked intrigued as she reached for the pot of tea.

“Oh, I think it's bad when the interviewer asks if you have any experience working on a magazine or newspaper and you tell him you once printed up a newsletter for a shitty company.”

Holly banged her head playfully off the kitchen table.

Sharon burst out laughing. “Newsletter? I hope you weren't referring to that crappy little leaflet that you printed up on the computer to advertise that dive of a company?”

John and Sharon howled with laughter.

“Ah well, it was advertising the company . . .” Holly trailed off and giggled, feeling even more embarrassed.

“Remember, you made us all go out and post them around people's houses in the pissing rain and the freezing cold! It took us days to do!”

“Hey, I remember that,” John laughed. “Remember, you sent me and Gerry out to post hundreds of them one night?” He kept on laughing.

“Yeah?” Holly was afraid to hear what came next.

“Well, we shoved them in the skip at the back of Bob's pub and went in for a few pints.” He kept on laughing at the memory of it and Holly's mouth dropped open.

“You sly little bastards!” she laughed. “Because of you two the company went bust and I lost my job!”

“Oh, I'd say it went bust the minute people took a look at those leaflets, Holly,” Sharon teased.

“Anyway, that place was a kip. You used to moan about it every day.”

“Just one of the jobs Holly moaned about,” John joked. But he was right.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn't have moaned about this one,” she said sadly.

“There's plenty more jobs out there,” Sharon reassured her, “you just need to brush up on your interview skills.”

“Tell me about it.” Holly stabbed away at the sugar bowl with a spoon.

They sat in silence for a while.

“You published a newsletter,” John repeated a few minutes later, still laughing at the thought of it.

“Shut up, you,” Holly cringed. “Hey, what else did you and Gerry get up to that I don't know about?” she demanded.

“Ah, a true friend never reveals secrets,” John teased, and his eyes danced with the memories.

But something had been unlocked. And after Holly and Sharon threatened to beat some stories out of him, Holly learned more about her husband that night that she never knew. For the first time since Gerry had died, the three of them laughed and laughed all night, and Holly learned how to finally be able to talk about her husband. It used to be that the four of them gathered together; Holly, Gerry, Sharon and John. This time only three of them gathered to remember the one they lost. And with all their talk, he became alive for them all that night. Soon they would be four again, with the arrival of Sharon and John's baby.

Life went on.

Thirty-six

THAT SUNDAY RICHARD CALLED OUT to visit Holly with the kids. She had told him he was welcome to bring them by whenever it was his day with them. They played outside in the garden while Richard and Holly finished off their dinner and watched them through the patio doors.

“They seem really happy, Richard,” Holly said, watching them playing.

“Yes they do, don't they?” He smiled as he watched them chasing each other around. “I want things to be as normal for them as possible. They don't quite understand what's going on, and it's difficult to explain.”

“What have you told them?”

“Oh, that Mummy and Daddy don't love each other anymore and that I moved away so that we can be happier. Something along those lines.”

“And they're OK with that?”

Her brother nodded slowly. “Timothy is OK but Emily is worried that we might stop loving her and that she will have to move away.” He glanced up at Holly, his eyes sad.

Poor Emily, Holly thought, watching her dancing around with her scary-looking doll. She couldn't believe that she was having this conversation with Richard. He seemed like a totally different person these days. Or perhaps it was Holly who had changed; she seemed to have a higher tolerance for him now, she found it easier to ignore his annoying little comments, and there were still many of them. But then again, they now had something in common. They both understood what it was like to feel lonely and unsure of themselves.

“How's everything going at Mum and Dad's house?”

Richard swallowed a forkful of potato and nodded, “Good. They're being extremely generous.”

“Ciara bothering you at all?” She felt like she was questioning her child after he returned home from his first day of school, wanting to know if the other kids had bullied him or treated him well. But lately she felt so protective of Richard. It helped her to help him; it gave her strength.

“Ciara is . . . Ciara,” he smiled. “We don't see eye to eye on a lot of things.”

“Well, I wouldn't worry about that,” Holly said, trying to stab a piece of pork with her fork.

“The majority of the world wouldn't see eye to eye with her either.” Her fork finally made contact with the pork and she sent it flying off her plate and through the air, where it landed on the kitchen counter at the far side of the room.

“And they say pigs don't fly,” Richard remarked as Holly crossed the room to retrieve the piece of meat.

Holly giggled, “Hey Richard you made a funny!”

He looked pleased with himself. “I have my moments too, I suppose,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Although I'm sure you think I don't have many of them.”

Holly sat back down in her seat slowly, trying to decide how to phrase what she was going to say. “We're all different, Richard. Ciara is slightly eccentric, Declan is a dreamer, Jack is a joker, I'm . . . well, I don't know what I am. But you were always very controlled. Straight and serious.

It's not necessarily a bad thing, we're all just different.”

“You're very thoughtful,” Richard said after a long silence.

“Pardon?” Holly asked, feeling confused. To cover her embarrassment she stuffed her face with another mouthful of food.

“I've always thought you were very thoughtful,” he repeated.

“When?” Holly asked incredulously, through her mouthful.

“Well, I wouldn't be sitting here eating dinner with the kids running around having fun outside if you weren't thoughtful now, but I was actually referring to when we were children.”

“I don't think so, Richard,” Holly said, shaking her head. “Jack and I were always so awful to you,” she said softly.

“You weren't always awful, Holly.” He gave her an amused smile. “Anyway, that's what brothers and sisters are for, to make each other's lives as difficult as possible for each other as they grow up. It forms a great basis for life, toughens you up. Anyway, I was the bossy older brother.”

“So how does that make me thoughtful?” Holly asked, feeling she had completely missed the point.

“You idolized Jack. You used to follow him around all the time and you would do exactly what he told you to do.” He started laughing. “I used to hear him telling you to say things to me and you would run into my room terrified and blurt them out and run away again.”

Holly looked at her plate feeling embarrassed. She and Jack used to play terrible tricks on him.

“But you always came back,” Richard continued. “You would always creep back into my room silently and watch me working at my desk, and I knew that was your way of saying sorry.” He smiled at her. “So that makes you thoughtful. None of our siblings had a conscience in that house of ours. Not even me. You were the only one, always the sensitive one.”