Cecelia Ahern - P.S. I Love You

The days after that were a blur to her now. She had occupied herself by making the funeral arrangements and by meeting and greeting his relatives and old school friends that she hadn't seen for years. She had remained so solid and calm through it all because she felt that she could finally think clearly. She was just thankful that after months his suffering was over. It didn't occur to her to feel the anger or bitterness that she felt now for the life that had been taken away from her. That feeling didn't arrive until she went to collect her husband's death certificate.

And that feeling made a grand appearance.

As she sat in the crowded waiting room of her local health clinic waiting for her number to be called, she wondered why on earth Gerry's number had been called so early in his life. She sat sandwiched between a young couple and an elderly couple. The picture of what she and Gerry had once been and a glimpse of the future that could have been. And it all just seemed unfair.

She felt squashed between the shoulders of her past and her lost future, and she felt suffocated.

She realized she shouldn't have had to be there.

None of her friends had to be there.

None of her family had to be there.

In fact, the majority of the population of the world didn't have to be in the position she was in right now.

It didn't seem fair.

Because it just wasn't fair.

After presenting the official proof of her husband's death to bank managers and insurance companies, as if the look on her face weren't enough proof, Holly returned home to her nest and locked herself away from the rest of the world, which contained hundreds of memories of the life she had once had. The life she had been very happy with. So why had she been given another one, and a far worse one at that?

That was two months ago and she hadn't left the house until today. And what a welcome she had been given, she thought, smiling down at the envelopes. Gerry was back.

Holly could hardly contain her excitement as she furiously dialed Sharon's number with trembling hands. After reaching a few wrong numbers she eventually calmed herself and concentrated on dialing the correct number.

“Sharon!” she squealed as soon as the phone was picked up. “You'll never guess what! Oh my God, I can't believe it!”

“Eh no . . . it's John, but I'll get her for you now.” A very worried John rushed off to get Sharon.

“What, what, what?” panted a very out-of-breath Sharon. “What's wrong? Are you OK?”

“Yes I'm fine!” Holly giggled hysterically, not knowing whether to laugh or cry and suddenly forgetting how to structure a sentence.

John watched as Sharon sat down at her kitchen table looking very confused while she tried with all her strength to make sense of the rambling Holly on the other end. It was something about Mrs. Kennedy giving Holly a brown envelope with a bedside lamp in it. It was all very worrying.

“ Stop! ” shouted Sharon, much to Holly and John's surprise. “I cannot understand a word you are saying, so please,” Sharon spoke very slowly, “slow down, take a deep breath and start from the very beginning, preferably using words from the English language.”

Suddenly she heard quiet sobs from the other end.

“Oh, Sharon,” Holly's words were quiet and broken, “he wrote me a list. Gerry wrote me a list.”

Sharon froze in her chair while she digested this information.

John watched his wife's eyes widen and he quickly pulled out a chair and sat next to her and shoved his head toward the telephone so he could hear what was going on.

“OK, Holly, I want you to get over here as quickly but as safely as you can.” She paused again and swatted John's head away as if he were a fly so she could concentrate on what she had just heard. “This is . . . great news?”

John stood up from the table insulted and began to pace the kitchen floor trying to guess what it could be.

“Oh it is, Sharon,” sobbed Holly. “It really is.”

“OK, make your way over here now and we can talk about it.”

“OK.”

Sharon hung up the phone and sat in silence.

“What? What is it?” demanded John, unable to bear being left out of this obviously serious event.

“Oh sorry, love. Holly's on the way over. She . . . em . . . she said that, eh . . .”

“ What? For Christ's sake?”

“She said that Gerry wrote her a list.”

John stared at her, studied her face and tried to decide if she was serious. Sharon's worried blue eyes stared back at him and he realized she was. He joined her at the table and they both sat in silence and stared at the wall, lost in thought.

Six

“WOW,” WAS ALL SHARON AND John could say as the three of them sat around the kitchen table in silence staring at the contents of the package that Holly had emptied as evidence. Conversation between them had been minimal for the last few minutes as they all tried to decide how they felt. It went something like this:

“But how did he manage to . . .”

“But why didn't we notice him . . . well . . . God.”

“When do you think he . . . well, I suppose he was on his own sometimes . . .”

Holly and Sharon just sat looking at each other while John stuttered and stammered his way through trying to figure out just when, where and how his terminally ill friend had managed to carry out this idea all alone without anyone finding out.

“Wow,” he eventually repeated after coming to the conclusion that Gerry had done just that. He had carried it out alone.

“I know,” Holly agreed. “So the two of you had absolutely no idea then?”

“Well, I don't know about you, Holly, but it's pretty clear to me that John was the mastermind behind all of this,” Sharon said sarcastically.

“Ha-ha,” John replied dryly. “Well, he kept his word anyway, didn't he?” John looked to both of the girls with a smile on his face.

“He sure did,” Holly said quietly.

“Are you OK, Holly? I mean, how do you feel about all this, it must be . . . weird,” asked Sharon again, clearly concerned.

“I feel fine.” Holly was thoughtful. “Actually I think it's the best thing that could have happened right now! It's funny, though, how amazed we all are considering how much we all went on about this list. I mean, I should have been expecting it.”

“Yeah, but we never expected any of us to ever do it!” said John.

“But why not?” questioned Holly. “This was the whole reason for it in the first place! To be able to help your loved ones after you go.”

“I think Gerry was the only one who took it really seriously.”

“Sharon, Gerry is the only one of us who is gone, who knows how seriously anyone else would have taken it?”

There was a silence.

“Well, let's study this more closely then,” perked up John, suddenly starting to enjoy himself.

“There's how many envelopes?”

“Em . . . there's ten,” counted Sharon, joining in with the spirit of their new task.

“OK, so what months are there?” John asked. Holly sorted through the pile.

“There's March, which is the lamp one I already opened, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November and December.”

“So there's a message for every month left in the year,” Sharon said slowly, lost in thought. They were all thinking the same thing, Gerry had planned this knowing he wouldn't live past February. They all took a moment to ponder this, and eventually Holly looked around at her friends with happiness. Whatever Gerry had in store for her was going to be interesting, but he had already succeeded in making her feel almost normal again. While she was laughing with John and Sharon as they guessed what the envelopes contained, it was as though he were still with them.