Cecelia Ahern - P.S. I Love You

“Thank you for hiring me, Mr. Feeney,” Holly said genuinely.

“You can call me Chris, and there's no need to thank me. Right, why don't you follow me and I'll show you around the place.” He started leading her down the hall. The walls were covered by framed covers of every X magazine that had been published for the last twenty years.

“There's not much to the place; in here is our office of little ants.” He pushed open the door and Holly looked into the huge office. There were about ten desks in all, and the room was packed with people all sitting in front of their computers and talking on the phone. They looked up and waved politely. Holly smiled at them, remembering how important first impressions were.

“These are the wonderful journalists who help pay my bills,” Chris explained. “That's John Paul the fashion editor; Mary our food woman; and Brian, Steven, Gordon, Aishling and Tracey. You don't need to know what they do, they're just wasters.” He laughed and one of the men gave Chris the finger and continued talking on the phone. Holly presumed he was one of the men accused of being a waster.

“Everyone, this is Holly!” Chris yelled, and they smiled and waved again and continued talking on the phone.

“The rest of the journalists are freelancers, so you won't see them hanging around these offices much,” Chris explained, leading her to the room next door. “This is where all our computer nerds hide. That's Dermot and Wayne, and they're in charge of layout and design, so you'll be working closely with them and keeping them informed about what advertisements are going where. Lads, this is Holly.”

“Hi, Holly.” They both stood up and shook her hand and then continued working on their computers again.

“I have them well trained,” Chris chuckled, and he headed back out to the hall again. “Down here is the boardroom. We have meetings every morning at eight forty-five.”

Holly nodded to everything he was saying and tried to remember the names of everyone he had introduced to her.

“Down those steps are the toilets, and I'll show you your office now.”

He headed back down the way they had come and Holly glanced at the walls feeling excited.

This was nothing like she had ever experienced before.

“In here is your office,” he said, pushing the door open and allowing her to walk in ahead of him.

Holly couldn't stop herself from smiling as she looked around at the small room. She had never had her own office before. It was just big enough to fit a desk and filing cabinet. There was a computer sitting on the desk with piles and piles of folders. Opposite the desk was a bookcase crammed with yet more books, folders and stacks of old magazines. The huge Georgian window practically covered the entire back wall behind her desk, and although it was cold and windy outside, the room had a bright and airy feel to it. She could definitely see herself working here.

“It's perfect,” she told Chris, placing her briefcase on the desk and looking around.

“Good,” Chris said. “The last guy who was here was extremely organized, and all those folders there will explain very clearly what exactly it is you need to do. If you have any problems or any questions about anything at all, just come ask me. I'm right next door.” He knocked on the wall that separated their offices.

“Now I'm not looking for miracles from you, because I know you're new to this, which is why I expect you to ask lots of questions. Our next edition is due out next week, as we put them out on the first day of every month.”

Holly's eyes widened; she had a week to fill an entire magazine.

“Don't worry.” He smiled again. “I want you to concentrate on November's edition. Familiarize yourself with the layout of the magazine, as we stick to the same style every month, so you will know what kind of pages will need what type of advertisements. This is a lot of work, but if you keep yourself organized and work well with the rest of the team, everything will run smoothly.

Again, I ask you to speak to Dermot and Wayne, and they'll fill you in on the standard layout, and if you need anything done, just ask Alice. She's there to help everyone.” He stopped talking and looked around. “So that's about it. Any questions?”

Holly shook her head. “No, I think you covered just about everything.”

“Right, I'll leave you to it so.” He closed the door behind him and Holly sat down at her new desk in her new office. She was slightly daunted by her new life. This was the most impressive job she had ever had, and by the sounds of things she was going to be extremely busy, but she was glad. She needed to keep her mind occupied. However, there was no way on earth she had remembered everyone's name, so she took out her notepad and pen and started to write down the ones she knew. She opened the folders and got to work.

She was so engrossed in her reading that she realized after a while that she had worked through her lunch break. By the sounds of things, no one else from the office had budged an inch. In her other jobs, Holly would stop working at least half an hour before lunchtime just to think about what she was going to eat. Then she would leave fifteen minutes early and return fifteen minutes late due to “traffic,” even though she would walk to the shop. Holly would daydream the majority of the day, make personal phone calls, especially abroad, because she didn't have to pay the bill, and would be first in queue to collect her monthly paycheck, which was usually spent within two weeks.

Yes, this was very different from her previous jobs, but she was looking forward to every minute of it.

“Right Ciara, are you sure you've got your passport?” Holly's mum asked her daughter for the third time since leaving the house.

“Yes, Mum,” Ciara groaned, “I told you a million billion times, it's right here.”

“Show me,” Elizabeth said, twisting around in the passenger seat.

“No! I'm not showing it to you. You should just take my word for it, I'm not a baby anymore, you know.”

Declan snorted and Ciara elbowed him in the ribs. “Shut up, you.”

“Ciara, just show Mum the passport so you can put her mind at rest,” Holly said tiredly.

“Fine,” she huffed, lifting her bag onto her lap. “It's in here, look Mum . . . no, hold on, actually it's in here . . . no, actually maybe I put it in here . . . oh fuck!”

“Jesus Christ, Ciara,” Holly's dad growled, slamming on the brakes and turning the car around.

“What?” she said defensively. “I put it in here, Dad, someone must have taken it out,” she grumbled, emptying the contents of her bag in the car.

“Bloody hell, Ciara,” Holly moaned as a pair of knickers went flying over her face.

“Ah shut up,” she grumbled again. “You won't have to put up with me for much longer.”

Everyone in the car went silent as they realized that was true. Ciara would be in Australia for God only knew how long, and they would all miss her; as loud and irritating as she was.

Holly sat squashed beside the window in the backseat of the car with Declan and Ciara. Richard was driving Mathew and Jack (ignoring his protestations), and they were probably already at the airport at this stage. This was their second time returning to the house, as Ciara had forgotten her lucky nose ring and demanded that her dad turn the car around.

An hour after setting off, they reached the airport in what should have been only a twenty-minute drive.

“Jesus, what took you so long?” Jack moaned to Holly when they all finally trudged into the airport with long faces on them. “I was stuck talking to Dick all on my own.”

“Oh give it a rest, Jack,” Holly said defensively, “he's not that bad.”