PS, I Love You: A Novel

by Cecelia Ahern

  “Well, I would worry if Jack gave me something like that,” she said, opening Abbey’s present. “Oh, Abbey, it’s beautiful!” Holly said, holding up the sterling silver–covered photo album.

  “For your new memories,” Abbey said softly.

  “Oh, it’s perfect,” she said, wrapping her arms around Abbey and squeezing her. “Thank you.”

  “OK, well, mine is less sentimental, but as a fellow female I’m sure you will appreciate it,” said Denise, handing her an envelope.

  “Oh brilliant! I’ve always wanted to go here,” Holly exclaimed as she opened it. “A weekend of pampering in Haven’s health and beauty clinic!”

  “God, you sound like you’re on Blind Date,” teased Sharon.

  “So let us know when you want to make an appointment, it’s valid for a year, and the rest of us can book the same time. Make a holiday out of it!”

  “Oh, that’s a great idea, Denise, thank you!”

  “OK, last but not least!” Holly winked at Sharon. Sharon fidgeted with her hands nervously while she watched Holly’s face.

  It was a large silver photo frame with a photograph of Sharon, Denise and Holly at the Christmas Ball two years ago. “Oh, I’m wearing my ’spensive white dress!” sobbed Holly playfully.

  “Before it was ruined,” pointed out Sharon.

  “God, I don’t even remember that being taken!”

  “I don’t even remember being there,” mumbled Denise.

  Holly continued to stare at the photo sadly while she walked over to the fireplace.

  That had been the last ball that she and Gerry had been to, as he had been too ill to attend last year’s.

  “Well, this will take pride of place,” Holly announced, walking over to the mantelpiece and placing it beside her wedding photo.

  “OK, girls, let’s get some serious drinking done!” screamed Ciara, and everyone dived to safety, as another bottle of champagne was popped open.

  Two bottles of champagne and several bottles of red wine later, the girls stumbled out of the house and piled into a taxi. Through the giggling and shouting someone managed to explain to the taxi driver where they were going. Holly insisted on sitting in the passenger seat of the taxicab and having a heart-to-heart with John the driver, who probably wanted to kill her by the time they reached town.

  “Bye John!” they all shouted to their new best friend before falling out onto the curb in Dublin city, where they watched him drive off at a high speed. They had decided (while drinking their third bottle of wine) to chance their luck in Dublin’s most stylish club, Boudoir. The club was reserved for the rich and famous only, and it was a well-known fact that if you weren’t rich and famous, you then had to have a member’s card to be granted access. Denise walked up to the door coolly waving her video store membership card in the bouncers’ faces. Believe it or not, they stopped her.

  The only famous faces they saw overtaking them to get into the club, as they fought with the bouncers to get in, were a few newsreaders from the national TV station who Denise smiled at, and she hilariously kept repeating “good evening” very seriously to their faces. Unfortunately after that, Holly remembered no more.

  Holly awoke with her head pounding. Her mouth was as dry as Gandhi’s sandal and her vision was impaired. She leaned up on one elbow and tried to open her eyes, which were somehow glued together. She squinted around the room. It was bright, very bright, and the room seemed to be spinning. Something very odd was going on. Holly caught sight of herself in the mirror ahead and startled herself. Had she been in an accident last night? She ran out of energy and collapsed flat on her back again. Suddenly the house alarm began wailing and she lifted her head slightly from the pillow and opened one eye. Oh, take whatever you want, she thought, just as long as you bring me a glass of water before you go. After a while she realized it wasn’t the alarm but the phone ringing beside her bed.

  “Hello?” she croaked.

  “Oh good, I’m not the only one,” said a desperately ill voice on the other end.

  “Who are you?” croaked Holly again.

  “My name is Sharon, I think,” came the reply, “although don’t ask me who Sharon is because I don’t know. The man beside me in bed seems to think I know him.” Holly heard John laughing loudly in the background.

  “Sharon, what happened last night? Please enlighten me.”

  “Alcohol happened last night,” said Sharon drowsily, “lots and lots of alcohol.”

  “Any other information?”

  “Nope.”

  “Know what time is it?”

  “Two o’clock.”

  “Why are you ringing me at this hour of the morning?”

  “It’s the afternoon, Holly.”

  “Oh. How did that happen?”

  “Gravity or something. I was out that day in school.”

  “Oh God, I think I’m dying.”

  “Me too.”

  “I think I’ll just go back to sleep, maybe when I wake up, the ground will have stopped moving.”

  “Good idea, oh and Holly, welcome to the thirties club.”

  Holly groaned, “I have not started as I mean to go on. From now on I will be a sensible, mature thirty-year-old woman.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said too. Good night.”

  “’Night.” Seconds later Holly was asleep. She awoke at various stages during the day to answer the phone, conversations that all seemed part of her dreams. And she made many trips to the kitchen to rehydrate herself.

  Eventually at nine o’clock that night Holly succumbed to her stomach’s screaming demands for food. As usual there was nothing in the fridge, so she decided to treat herself to a Chinese take-away. She sat snuggled up on the couch in her pajamas watching the very best of Saturday night TV while stuffing her face. After the trauma of being without Gerry for her birthday the previous day, Holly was surprised to notice that she felt very content with herself. It was the first time since Gerry had died that she was at ease with her own company. There was a slight chance she could make it without him.

  Later that night Jack called her on her mobile. “Hey sis, what are you doing?”

  “Watching TV, having Chinese,” she said.

  “Well, you sound in good form. Unlike my poor girlfriend who’s suffering here beside me.”

  “I’m never going out with you again, Holly,” she heard Abbey scream weakly in the background.

  “You and your friends perverted her mind,” he joked.

  “Don’t blame me, she was doing just fine all by herself as far as I remember.”

  “She says she can’t remember anything.”

  “Neither can I. Maybe it’s something that happens as soon as you hit thirty, I was never like this before.”

  “Or maybe it’s just an evil plan you all hatched so you wouldn’t have to tell us what you got up to.”

  “I wish it was … oh, thanks for the pressie by the way, it’s beautiful.”

  “Glad you like it. It took me ages to find the right one.”

  “Liar.”

  He laughed.

  “Anyway, I was ringing you to ask if you’re going to Declan’s gig tomorrow night.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Hogan’s pub.”

  “No way. There is no way I’m ever setting foot in a pub again, especially to listen to some loud rock band with screeching guitars and noisy drums,” Holly told him.

  “Oh, it’s the old ‘I’m never drinking again’ excuse, is it? Well, don’t drink then. Please come, Holly. Declan’s really excited about it and no one else will come.”

  “Ha! So I’m the last resort, am I? Nice to know you think so highly of me.”

  “No you’re not. Declan would love to see you there and we hardly got a chance to talk at dinner, we haven’t gone out for ages,” he pleaded.

  “Well, we’re hardly going to have a heart-to-heart with the Orgasmic Fish banging out their tunes,” she said sarcastically.

  “Well, the
y’re actually called Black Strawberries now, which has a nice sweet ring to it I think,” he laughed.

  Holly held her head in her hands and groaned, “Oh, please don’t make me go, Jack.”

  “You’re going.”

  “OK, but I’m not staying for the whole thing.”

  “Well, we can discuss that when we get there. Declan will be chuffed when I tell him, the family never usually goes to these things.”

  “OK then, about eightish?”

  “Perfect.”

  Holly hung up and sat stuck to the couch for another few hours. She felt so stuffed, she couldn’t move. Maybe that Chinese wasn’t such a good idea after all.

  Nine

  HOLLY ARRIVED AT HOGAN’S PUB feeling a lot fresher than the day before, but her reactions were still a little slower than usual. Her hangovers seemed to be gradually getting worse as she got older, and yesterday took the gold medal for the hangover of all hangovers. She had gone for a long walk along the coast from Malahide to Portmarnock earlier that day and the crisp fresh breeze helped to clear her fuzzy head. She had called into her parents’ for Sunday dinner, where they presented her with a beautiful Waterford crystal vase for her birthday. It had been a wonderful, relaxing day with her parents and she almost had to drag herself off the comfortable couch to go to Hogan’s.

  Hogan’s was a popular three-story club situated in the center of town, and even on a Sunday the place was jammed. The first floor was a trendy nightclub that played all the latest music from the charts. It was where the young, beautiful people went to show off their latest fashions. The ground floor was a traditional Irish pub for the older crowd (it usually contained old men perched up on their bar stools and stooped over their pints contemplating life). A few nights a week there was a traditional Irish music band that played all the old favorites, which was popular with the young and old. The basement was dark and dingy and it was where bands usually played, the clientele was purely students and Holly seemed to be the oldest person in there. The bar consisted of a tiny counter in the corner of the long hall, and it was surrounded by a huge crowd of young students dressed in scruffy jeans and ripped T-shirts, pushing one another violently in order to be served. The bar staff also looked like they should be in school and were rushing around at a hundred miles per hour with sweat dripping from their faces.

  The basement was stuffy with no ventilation or air-conditioning at all, and Holly was finding it difficult to breathe in the smoky air. Practically everyone around her seemed to be smoking a cigarette, and her eyes were already stinging her. Holly dreaded to think what it might be like in an hour’s time, although she seemed to be the only one who was bothered by it. She waved at Declan to let him know she was there but decided not to make her way over, as he was surrounded by a crowd of girls. She wouldn’t want to cramp his style. Holly had missed out on the whole student scene when she was younger. She had decided not to go to college after school and instead began working as a secretary, where she moved from job to job every few months, ending with the awful job she left so she could spend time with Gerry while he was sick. She doubted she would have stayed at it that much longer anyway. Gerry had studied marketing at Dublin City University but he never socialized much with his college friends; instead he chose to go out with Holly, Sharon and John, Denise and whoever she was with at the time. Looking around at everyone, Holly didn’t feel like she had missed anything special.

  Finally Declan managed to tear himself away from his female fans and make his way over to Holly.

  “Well hello, Mr. Popular, I feel privileged you chose me to speak to next.” All the girls stared Holly up and down and wondered what the hell Declan saw in this older woman.

  Declan laughed and rubbed his hands together cheekily. “I know! This band business is great, looks like I’ll be getting a bit of action tonight,” he said cockily.

  “As your sister it’s always a pleasure to be informed of that,” Holly replied sarcastically. She found it impossible to maintain a conversation with Declan, as he refused eye contact with her and instead scoured the crowds.

  “OK, Declan, just go, why don’t you, and flirt with these beauties instead of being stuck here with your old sister.”

  “Oh no, it’s not that,” he said defensively. “It’s just that we were told there might be a record company guy coming to see us play tonight.”

  “Oh cool!” Holly’s eyes widened with excitement for her brother. This obviously meant a lot to him, and she felt guilty for never taking an interest in it before. She looked around and tried to spot someone who looked like a record company guy. What would he look like? It’s not as if he would be sitting in the corner with a notebook and pen scribbling furiously. Finally her eyes fell upon a man who seemed much older than the rest of the crowd, more her own age. He was dressed in a black leather jacket, black slacks and a black T-shirt and stood with his hands on his hips staring at the stage. Yes, he was definitely a record company guy, as he had stubble all around his jaw and looked like he hadn’t been to bed for days. He must have stayed up all night every night this week attending concerts and gigs and probably slept all day. He probably smelled bad as well. Or else he was just a weirdo who liked to go to student nights and ogle all the young girls. Also a possibility.

  “Over there, Deco!” Holly raised her voice over the noise and pointed at the man. Declan looked excited and his eyes followed to where her finger pointed. His smile faded as he obviously recognized the man. “No, it’s just Danny!” he yelled, and he wolf-whistled to grab his attention.

  Danny twirled around trying to find his caller and nodded his head in recognition and made his way over. “Hey man,” Declan said, shaking his hand.

  “Hi Declan, how are you set?” The man looked stressed.

  “Yeah, OK,” Declan nodded unenthusiastically. Somebody must have told Declan that acting like you didn’t care was cool.

  “Sound check go OK?” He pressed him for more information.

  “There were a few problems but we sorted them out.”

  “So everything’s OK?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good.” His face relaxed and he turned to greet Holly. “Sorry for ignoring you there, I’m Daniel.”

  “Nice to meet you, I’m Holly.”

  “Oh sorry,” Declan interrupted. “Holly, this is the owner; Daniel, this is my sister.”

  “Sister? Wow, you look nothing alike.”

  “Thank God,” Holly mouthed to Daniel so Declan couldn’t see, and he laughed.

  “Hey Deco, we’re on!” yelled a blue-haired boy at him.

  “See you two later,” and he ran off.

  “Good luck!” yelled Holly after him. “So you’re a Hogan,” she said, turning to face Daniel.

  “Well, no actually, I’m a Connolly,” he smiled. “I just took over the place a few weeks ago.”

  “Oh.” Holly was surprised. “I didn’t know they sold the place. So are you going to change it to Connolly’s then?”

  “Can’t afford all the lettering on the front, it’s a bit long.”

  Holly laughed. “Well, everyone knows the name Hogan’s at this stage; it would probably be stupid to change it.”

  Daniel nodded in agreement. “That was the main reason actually.”

  Suddenly Jack appeared at the entrance and Holly waved him over. “I’m so sorry I’m late, did I miss anything?” he said, giving her a hug and a kiss.

  “Nope, he’s just about to go on now. Jack, this is Daniel, the owner.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Daniel said, shaking his hand.

  “Are they any good?” Jack asked him, nodding his head in the direction of the stage.

  “To tell you the truth, I’ve never even heard them play,” Daniel said worriedly.

  “That was brave of you!” laughed Jack.

  “I hope not too brave,” he said, turning to face the front as the boys took to the stage.

  “I recognize a few faces here,” Jack said, scanning the crowd.
“Most of them are under eighteen as well.”

  A young girl dressed in ripped jeans and a belly top walked slowly by Jack with an unsure smile on her face. She placed her finger over her lip as though telling him to be quiet. Jack smiled and nodded back.

  Holly looked at Jack questioningly. “What was that about?”

  “Oh, I teach her English at the school. She’s only sixteen or seventeen. She’s a good girl, though.” Jack stared after her as she walked by, then added, “But she better not be late for class tomorrow.”

  Holly watched the girl down a pint with her friends, wishing she had had a teacher at school like Jack; all the students seemed to love him. And it was easy to see why; he was a lovable kind of person. “Well, don’t tell him they’re under eighteen,” Holly said under her breath, nodding her head in the direction of Daniel.

  The crowd cheered and Declan took on his moody persona as he lifted his guitar strap over his shoulder. The music started and after that there was no chance of carrying on any kind of conversation. The crowd began to jump up and down, and once too often Holly’s foot was stomped on. Jack just looked at her and laughed, amused at her obvious discomfort. “Can I get you two a drink?” Daniel yelled, making a drinking motion with his hand. Jack asked for a pint of Budweiser and Holly settled for a 7UP. They watched Daniel battle through the moshing crowd and climb behind the bar to fix the drinks. He returned minutes later with their drinks and a stool for Holly. They turned their attention back to the stage and watched their brother perform. The music really wasn’t Holly’s type of thing, and it was so loud and noisy it was difficult for her to tell if they were actually any good. It was a far cry from the soothing sounds of her favorite Westlife CD, so perhaps she wasn’t in the right position to judge the Black Strawberries. The name said it all, though, really.

  After four songs Holly had had enough, and she gave Jack a hug and a kiss good-bye. “Tell Declan I stayed till the end!” she yelled. “Nice meeting you, Daniel! Thanks for the drink!” she screamed and made her way back to civilization and cool fresh air. Her ears continued to ring all the way home in the car. It was ten o’clock by the time she got there. Only two more hours till May. And that meant she could open another envelope.