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She shuffled into the kitchen, dressed in Gerry’s dressing gown and her favourite pink ‘disco diva’ slippers that 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. 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’ sprees. They weren’t far wrong. Poor neglected husbands, the girls always called them.
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,’ she said guiltily, biting her lip and running her fingers over the soft material.
‘Aah, don’t worry, Gerry can stitch it up for you,’ Sharon replied with her infamous cackle. ‘And stop calling me “shit Sharon”. Every time we go shopping you address me as that. If you’re not careful I might start taking offence. 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?’
‘I’ll take it,’ Holly said excitedly to the sales assistant.
The dress was low cut, 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 such a little slip of material had cost that much. Once at the ball, Ms Disco Diva once again 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 spilt on expensive white dresses.
Later, when Gerry knocked his pint over causing it to dribble off the edge of the table into Holly’s lap, she tearfully 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.’ 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 a startled waiter had delivered a 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 to Holly, before falling out of the taxi and dragging Sharon alongside him into their house.
Was it possible that Gerry had kept his word and had 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 even mentioned it, nor had she noticed any signs of him writing it. No, Holly, pull yourself together and don’t be stupid, she told herself. She so desperately wanted him back that she was imagining all kinds of crazy things. He wouldn’t have. Would he?
CHAPTER 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 long strands of bright green grass. The ground was soft and bouncy beneath her bare feet and her body felt so light she was almost floating just above 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.
Suddenly the sky darkened as the Caribbean sun disappeared behind a looming grey cloud. The wind picked up and the air chilled. Around her all the petals of the tiger lilies were racing through the air wildly, blurring her vision. The once spongy ground was replaced with sharp 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 grey stone was visible amidst 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 grey slab and let out a scream of pain as she realised 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 front door.
‘Holly! Holly! I know you’re there! Please let me in!’ BANG! BANG! BANG!
Confused and half asleep, she made her way to the door to 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 about the bush, but that’s why she loved her so much. 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 how she had to get on with her life; she just wanted … oh, she didn’t know what she wanted. She was content to be 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, her 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 she 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 Holly’s throat and tears welled in her eyes. She 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 allowed her long blonde (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 was 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 can’t have been any longer than a half an hour but Sharon had tidied and polished, vacuumed and plumped, washed, and sprayed air freshener in every room. She followed the humming noise she could hear to the kitchen where Sharon was scrubbing the hobs. The counters were gleaming; the chrome taps and draining board sparkling.
‘Sharon, you absolute angel! I can’t believe you did all this. And in such a short 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. Jammie Dodgers, your favourite.’
That did it. This was all too much for Holly. The Jammie Dodgers were the icing on the cake. She felt the tears 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 like it was 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. Grieving is all part of helping yourself, anyway.’
She always said the right things.
‘Yeah, well, I’ve been doing a lot of that. I’m all grieved out.’
‘You can’t be!’ said Sharon, mock disgusted. ‘And only a month after your husband is cold in his grave.’
‘Oh, stop! There’ll be plenty of that from people, though, 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. ‘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 thoughts, maybe not your family,’ she joked, ‘but at least the rest of us can.’
‘Oh, I realise that now. I just thought I could handle it on my own at first.’
‘Promise me you’ll call round. Or at least get out of the house once in a while.’
‘Promise.’ Holly rolled her eyes. ‘You’re beginning to sound like my mum.’
‘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 had given 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 with the living again, instead of moping around with the ghosts of her past. Tomorrow was a new day and she intended on beginning it by collecting that envelope.
CHAPTER 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 in an empty bed to a silent house, but there was one small breakthrough. For the first time in over a month, 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 her and Gerry being together, which had lived in her mind for the past ten hours, were just that: dreams.
She showered and dressed comfortably in her favourite 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 and her hair was a disaster. First thing to do was to go down to her local hairdressers and pray they could squeeze her in.
‘Jaysus, Holly!’ her stylist, 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-coloured 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 Will not to bother getting his lunch, he’s doing my twelve o’clock.’ Leo ordered everyone around, his hands flailing wildly as though he was 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 he didn’t look a day over thirty. His honey-coloured hair matched his honey-coloured skin, and he always dressed so perfectly. He was enough to make any 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 door did you see the word “magician” or “hairdresser” on the front of 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 jaw 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 this 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 he had become awfully serious and his lips were pursed together in concentration as he separated Holly’s hair ready for colouring. That was enough to send Holly into stitches again.
‘Ah, come on, Holly,’ Leo said in exasperation.
‘I can’t help it, Leo. You got me started and now I can’t stop …’
Leo paused in what he was doing and watched her with amusement. ‘I always thought you were for the madhouse. No one ever listens to me.’
She laughed even harder. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Leo. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I just can’t stop.’ Holly’s stomach ached from laughing so hard and she was aware of all the curious glances she was attracting but she just couldn’t help it. It was as if all the missed mirth from the past couple of months were tumbling out at once.
Leo propped himself back on the counter and watched her. ‘You don’t need to apologise, Holly. Laugh all you like. You know they say it’s good for the heart.’
‘Oh, I haven’t laughed like this for ages,’ she chortled.
‘Well, you haven’t had much to laugh about, I suppose,’ he smiled sadly. Leo had loved Gerry too. They’d teased each other whenever they’d met, but they’d both known it was all in fun. Leo snapped himself out of his thoughts, tousled Holly’s hair playfully and planted a kiss on the top of her head. ‘But you’ll be all right, Holly Kennedy,’ he assured her.
‘Thanks, Leo,’ she said, calming herself down, touched by his concern. He went back to work on her hair, putting on his funny little concentrating face, which started Holly off again.
‘Oh, you laugh now, Holly, but wait till I accidentally give you a stripy head of colour. We’ll see who’s laughing then.’
‘How’s Joe?’ Holly asked, keen to change the subject before she embarrassed herself again.
‘He dumped me,’ Leo said, pushing aggressively with his foot on the chair’s pump, sending Holly higher into the air and causing her to jerk wildly in her chair.
