Cecelia Ahern - P.S. I Love You

Yes, she had finally managed to drag herself out of bed every morning, yes, she even managed to get dressed most of the time. Yes, she had succeeded in finding a new job where she had met new people, and yes, she had finally started buying food again and feeding herself. But no, she didn't feel ecstatic about any of these things. They were just formalities, something else to check off on the “things that normal people do” list. None of these things filled the hole in her heart; it was as if her body had become one great jigsaw, just like the green fields with their pretty gray stone walls connecting the whole of Ireland. She had started working on the corners and the edges of her jigsaw because they were the easy bits, and now that they were all in place she needed to do all the bits in between, the hard parts. But nothing she had done so far had managed to fill that hole in her heart; that piece of the jigsaw had yet to be found.

Holly cleared her throat loudly and pretended to have a coughing fit just so the girls would wake up and talk to her. She needed to talk, she needed to cry and she needed to vent all her frustrations and disappointments about her life. But what more could she say to Sharon and Denise that she hadn't said before? What more advice could they give her that they hadn't given her before? She repeated the same old worries over and over. Sometimes her friends would succeed in getting through to her and she would feel positive and confident, only to find herself thrown back into despair days later.

After a while Holly tired of staring at the four walls, threw on a tracksuit and made her way back downstairs to the hotel bar.

Charlie groaned with frustration as the table down the back of the bar began to roar with laughter again. He wiped down the bar counter and glanced at his watch. Five-thirty and he was still here working and he couldn't wait to go home. He had thought he was so lucky when the girls from the hen party had eventually gone to bed earlier than expected, and he was about to tidy up and go home when another gang arrived at the hotel after a nightclub had finished in Galway city. And they were still here. In fact, he would have preferred if the girls had stayed up instead of the arrogant crowd sitting down the back. They weren't even residents of the hotel, but he had to serve them because the group included the daughter of the owner of the hotel, who had brought all her friends back to the bar. She and her arrogant boyfriend, and he couldn't stand them.

“Don't tell me you're back for more!” the barman laughed as one of the women from the hen party walked into the room. She walked toward the bar, bumping into the wall many times as she tried to make her way to the high stool. Charlie tried not to laugh. “I just came down for a glass of water,” she hiccuped. “Oh my God,” she wailed, catching sight of herself in the mirror over the bar. Charlie had to admit that she did look a bit shocking; a bit like the scarecrow in his dad's farm. Her hair looked like straw and was sticking out in all directions, her eyes had black circles around them from smudging her mascara, and her teeth were stained from the red wine.

“There you go,” Charlie said, placing a glass of water on a beer mat in front of her.

“Thanks.” She dipped her finger into her glass and wiped the mascara from her eyes and rubbed the wine stains from her lips.

Charlie began to laugh and she squinted at his name tag.

“What are you laughing at, Charlie?”

“I thought you were thirsty, but I would have given you a facecloth if you'd asked for one,” he chuckled.

The woman laughed and her features softened. “I find the ice and lemon helps my skin.”

“Well, that's a new one.” Charlie laughed and continued to wipe down the counter. “Did you girls have fun tonight?”

Holly sighed, “I suppose.” Fun wasn't a word she often used anymore. She had laughed along with the jokes all night, she had felt excited for Denise, but she didn't feel like she was completely there. She felt like the shy girl at school who was always just there but never spoke and was never spoken to. She didn't recognize the person she had become; she wanted to be able to stop staring at the clock whenever she went out, hoping the night would soon be over so she could go home and crawl into bed. She wanted to stop wishing time would pass and instead enjoy the moment. She was finding it hard to enjoy moments.

“Are you OK?” Charlie stopped wiping the counter and watched her. He had a horrible feeling she was going to cry, but he was used to it at this stage. A lot of people became emotional when they drank.

“I miss my husband,” she whispered, and her shoulders trembled.

The corners of Charlie's lips turned into a smile.

“What's so funny?” She looked at him angrily.

“How long are you here for?” he asked.

“The weekend,” she told him, twisting a worn tissue around her finger.

He laughed. “Have you never gone the weekend without seeing him?”

He watched the woman frown. “Only once before,” she finally replied, “and that was at my own hen party.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Seven years ago.” A tear spilled down the woman's face.

Charlie shook his head. “That's a long time ago. Well, if you did it once, you can do it again,” he smiled. “Seven years lucky, isn't that what they say?”

Holly snorted into her drink. Lucky her arse.

“Don't worry,” Charlie said gently. “Your husband's probably miserable without you.”

“Oh God, I hope not.” Holly's eyes widened.

“Well then, see?” he replied. “I'm sure he hopes you're not miserable without him either. You're supposed to be enjoying your life.”

“You're right,” Holly said, perking up. “He wouldn't want me to be unhappy.”

“That's the spirit.” Charlie smiled and jumped as he saw his boss's daughter coming toward the bar with one of those looks on her face.

“Hey Charlie,” she yelled. “I've been trying to get your attention for ages. Maybe if you stopped chatting to the customers at the bar and did a bit of work, me and my friends wouldn't be so thirsty,” she said bitchily.

Holly's mouth dropped open with shock. That woman had a nerve speaking to Charlie like that, and her perfume was so strong it made Holly start to cough lightly.

“I'm sorry, do you have a problem?” The woman's head darted toward Holly, and she looked her up and down.

“Yes, actually,” Holly slurred, taking a sip of her water. “Your perfume is disgusting and it's making me want to throw up.”

Charlie dropped to his knees behind the counter to pretend to look for a lemon to slice and started laughing. He tried to block out the sounds of the two women snapping at each other so he would stop laughing.

“What's the delay here?” a deep voice inquired. Charlie shot to his feet at the sound of her boyfriend's voice. He was even worse. “Why don't you sit down, honey, and I'll bring the drinks over,” he said.

“Fine, at least someone is polite around here,” she snapped, looking Holly up and down once more before storming off to her table. Holly watched her hips go boom-boom-boom as they went from side to side. She must be a model or something, Holly decided. That would explain the tantrums.

“So how are you?” the man beside Holly asked, staring at her chest.

Charlie had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying anything as he poured a pint of Guinness from the tap and then allowed it to sit on the counter for a while. He had a feeling the woman at the bar wouldn't succumb to Stevie's charms anyway, especially as she seemed to be so head over heels about her husband. Charlie was looking forward to seeing Stevie being ceremoniously dumped.

“I'm fine,” Holly replied shortly, staring straight ahead, deliberately avoiding eye contact.