Tears once again rolled down Holly’s face and she realized she had been daydreaming again. She sat frozen on the couch with the phone still off the hook beside her. The time just seemed to pass her by these days without her knowing what time or even what day it was. She seemed to be living outside of her body, numb to everything but the pain in her heart, in her bones, in her head. She was just so tired … Her stomach grumbled and she realized she couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten. Had it been yesterday?
She shuffled into the kitchen wearing Gerry’s dressing gown and her favorite pink “Disco Diva” slippers, which Gerry had bought her the previous Christmas. She was his Disco Diva, he used to say. Always the first on the dance floor, always the last out of the club. Huh, where was that girl now? She opened the fridge and stared in at the empty shelves. Just vegetables and yogurt long past its sell-by date leaving a horrible stench in the fridge. There was nothing to eat. She smiled weakly as she shook the milk carton. Empty. Third on his list …
Christmas two years ago Holly had gone shopping with Sharon for a dress for the annual ball they attended at the Burlington Hotel. Shopping with Sharon was always a dangerous outing, and John and Gerry had joked about how they would once again suffer through Christmas without any presents as a result of the girls’ shopping sprees. But they weren’t far wrong. Poor neglected husbands, the girls always called them.
That Christmas Holly had spent a disgraceful amount of money in Brown Thomas on the most beautiful white dress she had ever seen. “Shit, Sharon, this will burn a huge hole in my pocket,” Holly guiltily said, biting her lip and running her fingers over the soft material.
“Aah, don’t worry, Gerry can stitch it up for you,” Sharon replied, followed by her infamous cackle. “And stop calling me ‘shit Sharon,’ by the way. Every time we go shopping you address me as that. If you’re not careful I might start taking offense. Buy the damn thing, Holly. It’s Christmas after all, the season of giving and all that.”
“God, you are so evil, Sharon. I’m never shopping with you again. This is like, half my month’s wages. What am I going to do for the rest of the month?”
“Holly, would you rather eat or look fab?” Was it even worth thinking about?
“I’ll take it,” Holly said excitedly to the sales assistant.
The dress was cut low, which showed off Holly’s neat little chest perfectly, and it was split to the thigh, displaying her slim legs. Gerry hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. It wasn’t because she looked so beautiful, however. He just couldn’t understand how on earth that little slip of material had cost so much. Once at the ball, Ms. Disco Diva overindulged in the alcoholic beverages and succeeded in destroying her dress by spilling red wine down her front. Holly tried but failed to hold back her tears while the men at the table drunkenly informed their partners that number fifty-four on the list prevented you from drinking red wine while wearing an expensive white dress. It was then decided that milk was the preferred beverage, as it wouldn’t be visible if spilled on expensive white dresses.
Later, when Gerry knocked his pint over, causing it to dribble off the edge of the table onto Holly’s lap, she tearily yet seriously announced to the table (and some of the surrounding tables), “Rule fitty-fife ov the list: neffer effer buy a ’spensive white dress.” And so it was agreed, and Sharon awoke from her coma from somewhere underneath the table to applaud and offer moral support. A toast was made (after the startled waiter had delivered the tray full of glasses of milk) to Holly and to her profound addition to the list. “I’m sorry ’bout your ’spensive white dress, Holly,” John had hiccuped before falling out of the taxi and dragging Sharon alongside him to their house.
Was it possible that Gerry had kept his word and written a list for her before he died? She had spent every minute of every day with him up until his death, and he had never mentioned it, nor had she noticed any signs of him writing one. No, Holly, pull yourself together and don’t be stupid. She so desperately wanted him back that she was imagining all kinds of crazy things. He wouldn’t have. Would he?
Three
HOLLY WAS WALKING THROUGH AN entire field of pretty tiger lilies; the wind was blowing gently, causing the silky petals to tickle the tips of her fingers as she pushed through the long strands of bright green grass. The ground felt soft and bouncy beneath her bare feet, and her body felt so light she almost seemed to be floating just above the surface of the spongy earth. All around her birds whistled their happy tune as they went about their business. The sun was so bright in the cloudless sky she had to shield her eyes, and with each brush of wind that passed her face, the sweet scent of the tiger lilies filled her nostrils. She felt so … happy, so free. A feeling that was alien to her these days.
Suddenly the sky darkened as her Caribbean sun disappeared behind a looming gray cloud. The wind picked up and the air chilled. Around her all the petals of her tiger lilies were racing through the air wildly, blurring her vision. The once spongy ground was replaced with sharp-pebbled stones that cut and scraped her feet with every step. The birds had stopped singing and instead perched on their branches and stared. Something was wrong and she felt afraid. Ahead of her in the distance a gray stone was visible amid the tall grass. She wanted to run back to her pretty flowers, but she needed to find out what was ahead.
As she crept closer she heard Bang! Bang! Bang! She quickened her pace and raced over the sharp stones and jagged-edged grass that tore at her arms and legs. She collapsed to her knees in front of the gray slab and let out a scream of pain as she realized what it was. Gerry’s grave. Bang! Bang! Bang! He was trying to get out! He was calling her name; she could hear him!
Holly jumped from her sleep to a loud banging on the door. “Holly! Holly! I know you’re there! Please let me in!” Bang! Bang! Bang! Confused and half asleep, Holly made her way to the door to find a frantic-looking Sharon.
“Christ! What were you doing? I’ve been banging on the door for ages!” Holly looked around outside, still not fully alert. It was bright and slightly chilly, must be morning.
“Well, aren’t you going to let me in?”
“Yeah, Sharon, sorry, I was just dozing on the couch.”
“God, you look terrible, Hol.” Sharon studied her face before giving her a big hug.
“Wow, thanks.” Holly rolled her eyes and turned to shut the door. Sharon was never one to beat around the bush, but that’s why she loved her so much, for her honesty. That’s also why Holly hadn’t been around to see Sharon for the past month. She didn’t want to hear the truth. She didn’t want to hear that she had to get on with her life; she just wanted … oh, she didn’t know what she wanted. She was happy being miserable. It somehow felt right.
“God, it’s so stuffy in here, when’s the last time you opened a window?” Sharon marched around the house opening windows and picking up empty cups and plates. She brought them into the kitchen, where she placed them in the dishwasher and then proceeded to tidy up.
“Oh, you don’t have to do it, Sharon,” Holly protested weakly. “I’ll do it …”
“When? Next year? I don’t want you slumming it while the rest of us pretend not to notice. Why don’t you go upstairs and shower and we’ll have a cup of tea when you come down.”
A shower. When was the last time she had even washed? Sharon was right, she must have looked disgusting with her greasy hair and dark roots and dirty robe. Gerry’s robe. But that was something she never intended to wash. She wanted it exactly as Gerry had left it. Unfortunately, his smell was beginning to fade, replaced by the unmistakable stink of her own skin.
“OK, but there’s no milk. I haven’t got around to …” Holly felt embarrassed by her lack of care for the house and for herself. There was no way she was letting Sharon look inside that fridge or Sharon would definitely have her committed.
“Ta-da!” Sharon sang, holding up a bag Holly hadn’t noticed her carry in. “Don’t worry, I took care of that. By the looks of it, you haven�
��t eaten in weeks.”
“Thanks, Sharon.” A lump formed in her throat and tears welled in her eyes. Her friend was being so good to her.
“Hold it! There will be no tears today! Just fun and laughter and general happiness, my dear friend. Now shower, quick!”
· · ·
Holly felt almost human when she came back downstairs. She was dressed in a blue tracksuit and had allowed her long blond (and brown at the roots) hair to fall down on her shoulders. All the windows downstairs were wide open and the cool breeze rushed through Holly’s head. It felt as though it were eliminating all her bad thoughts and fears. She laughed at the possibility of her mother being right after all. Holly snapped out of her trance and gasped as she looked around the house. She couldn’t have been any longer than half an hour, but Sharon had tidied and polished, vacuumed and plumped, washed and sprayed air freshener in every room. She followed the noise she could hear to the kitchen, where Sharon was scrubbing the hobs. The counters were gleaming; the silver taps and draining board at the sink area were sparkling.
“Sharon, you absolute angel! I can’t believe you did all this! And in such a short space of time!”
“Ha! You were gone for over an hour. I was beginning to think you’d fallen down the plughole. You would and all, the size of you.” She looked Holly up and down.
An hour? Once again Holly’s daydreaming had taken over her mind.
“OK, so I just bought some vegetables and fruit, there’s cheese and yogurts in there, and milk of course. I don’t know where you keep the pasta and tinned foods so I just put them over there. Oh, and there’s a few microwave dinners in the freezer. That should do you for a while, but by the looks of you it’ll last you the year. How much weight have you lost?”
Holly looked down at her body; her tracksuit was sagging at the bum and the waist tie was pulled to its tightest, yet still drooped to her hips. She hadn’t noticed the weight loss at all. She was brought back to reality by Sharon’s voice again. “There’s a few biscuits there to go with your tea. Jammy Dodgers, your favorite.”
That did it. This was all too much for Holly. The Jammy Dodgers were the icing on the cake. She felt the tears start to run down her face. “Oh, Sharon,” she wailed, “thank you so much. You’ve been so good to me and I’ve been such a horrible, horrible bitch of a friend.” She sat at the table and grabbed Sharon’s hand. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Sharon sat opposite her in silence, allowing her to continue. This is what Holly had been dreading, breaking down in front of people at every possible occasion. But she didn’t feel embarrassed. Sharon was just patiently sipping her tea and holding her hand as if it were normal. Eventually the tears stopped falling.
“Thanks.”
“I’m your best friend, Hol. If I don’t help you, then who will?” Sharon said, squeezing her hand and giving her an encouraging smile.
“Suppose I should be helping myself.”
“Pah!” Sharon spat, waving her hand dismissively. “Whenever you’re ready. Don’t mind all those people who say that you should be back to normal in a month or two. Grieving is all part of helping yourself anyway.”
She always said the right things.
“Yeah, well, I’ve been doing a lot of that anyway. I’m all grieved out.”
“You can’t be!” said Sharon, mock disgusted. “And only two months after your husband is cold in his grave.”
“Oh, stop! There’ll be plenty of that from people, won’t there?”
“Probably, but screw them. There are worse sins in the world than learning to be happy again.”
“Suppose.”
“Promise me you’ll eat.”
“Promise.”
“Thanks for coming round, Sharon, I really enjoyed the chat,” Holly said, gratefully hugging her friend, who had taken the day off work to be with her. “I feel a lot better already.”
“You know it’s good to be around people, Hol. Friends and family can help you. Well, actually on second thought, maybe not your family,” she joked, “but at least the rest of us can.”
“Oh, I know, I realize that now. I just thought I could handle it on my own—but I can’t.”
“Promise me you’ll call around. Or at least get out of the house once in a while?”
“Promise.” Holly rolled her eyes. “You’re beginning to sound like my mom.”
“Oh, we’re all just looking out for you. OK, see you soon,” Sharon said, kissing her on the cheek. “And eat!” she added, poking her in the ribs.
Holly waved to Sharon as she pulled away in her car. It was nearly dark. They had spent the day laughing and joking about old times, then crying, followed by some more laughing, then more crying again. Sharon gave her perspective, too. Holly hadn’t even thought about the fact that Sharon and John had lost their best friend, that her parents had lost their son-in-law and Gerry’s parents had lost their only son. She had just been so busy thinking about herself. It had been good being around the living again instead of moping around with the ghosts of her past. Tomorrow was a new day and she intended to begin it by collecting that envelope.
Four
HOLLY STARTED HER FRIDAY MORNING well by getting up early. However, although she had gone to bed full of optimism and excited about the prospects that lay ahead of her, she was struck afresh by the harsh reality of how difficult every moment would be. Once again she awoke to a silent house in an empty bed, but there was one small breakthrough. For the first time in over two months, she had woken up without the aid of a telephone call. She adjusted her mind, as she did every morning, to the fact that the dreams of Gerry and her being together that had lived in her mind for the past ten hours were just that—dreams.
She showered and dressed comfortably in her favorite blue jeans, trainers and a baby pink T-shirt. Sharon had been right about her weight, her once tight jeans were just about staying up with the aid of a belt. She made a face at her reflection in the mirror. She looked ugly. She had black circles under her eyes, her lips were chapped and chewed on and her hair was a disaster. First thing to do was to go down to her local hairdresser’s and pray they could squeeze her in.
“Jaysus, Holly!” her hairdresser Leo exclaimed. “Would ya look at the state of ya! People make way! Make way! I have a woman here in a critical condition!” He winked at her and proceeded to push people from his path. He pulled out the chair for her and pushed her into it.
“Thanks, Leo. I feel really attractive now,” Holly muttered, trying to hide her beetroot-colored face.
“Well don’t, ’cos you’re in bits. Sandra, mix me up the usual; Colin, get the foil; Tania, get me my little bag of tricks from upstairs, oh and tell Paul not to bother getting his lunch, he’s doing my twelve o’clock.” Leo ordered everyone around, his hands flailing wildly as though he were about to perform emergency surgery. Perhaps he was.
“Oh sorry, Leo, I didn’t mean to mess up your day.”
“Of course you did, love, why else would you come rushing in here at lunchtime on a Friday without an appointment. To help world peace?”
Holly guiltily bit her lip.
“Ah, but I wouldn’t do it for anyone else but you, love.”
“Thanks.”
“How have you been?” He rested his skinny little behind on the counter facing Holly. Leo must have been fifty years old, yet his skin was so flawless and his hair, of course, so perfect that he didn’t look a day over thirty-five. His honey-colored hair matched his honey-colored skin, and he always dressed perfectly. He was enough to make a woman feel like crap.
“Terrible.”
“Yeah, you look it.”
“Thanks.”
“Ah well, at least by the time you walk out of here you’ll have one thing sorted. I do hair, not hearts.”
Holly smiled gratefully at his odd little way of showing he understood.
“But Jaysus, Holly, when you were coming in the front door did you see the word ‘magician’ or ‘hairdresser’ on the front o
f the salon? You should have seen the state of the woman who came in here today. Mutton dressed as lamb. Not far off sixty, I’d say. Handed me a magazine with Jennifer Aniston on the cover.
“‘I want to look like that,’ she says.”
Holly laughed at his impression. He had the facial expression and the hand movements all going at the same time.
“ ‘Jaysus,’ I says, ‘I’m a hairdresser not a plastic surgeon. The only way you’ll look like that is if you cut out the picture and staple it to your head.’ ”
“No! Leo, you didn’t tell her that!” Holly’s mouth dropped in surprise.
“Of course I did! The woman needed to be told, sure wasn’t I helping her? Swanning in here dressed like a teenager. The state of her!”
“But what did she say!” Holly wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. She hadn’t laughed like that for months.
“I flicked the pages of the mag for her and came across a lovely picture of Joan Collins. Told her it was right up her street. She seemed happy enough with that.”
“Leo, she was probably too terrified to tell you she hated it!”
“Ah, who cares, I have enough friends.”
“Don’t know why,” Holly laughed.
“Don’t move,” Leo ordered. Suddenly Leo had become awfully serious, and his lips were pursed together in concentration as he separated Holly’s hair to get it ready for coloring. That was enough to send Holly into stitches again.
“Ah, come on, Holly,” Leo said with exasperation.
“I can’t help it, Leo, you got me started and now I can’t stop!” Leo stopped what he was doing and watched her with amusement.
PS, I Love You: A Novel Page 2