“I am, too!” Ciara shouted in the background.
“Well, sorry to burst her little bubble, but he’s already married.”
“He’s married, honey.” Elizabeth passed on the message.
“Hollywood marriages …,” Ciara mumbled in the background.
“Are the two of you on your own?” Holly asked.
“Frank is down the pub and Declan is in college.”
“College? But it’s ten o’clock at night!” Holly laughed. Declan was probably out somewhere doing something illegal and using college as an excuse. She didn’t think her mum would be so gullible to believe that, especially after having four other children.
“Oh, he’s a very hard worker when he puts his mind to it, Holly, he’s working on some project. I don’t know what it is; I don’t listen half the time.”
“Mmm,” Holly replied, not believing a word of it.
“Anyway, my future son-in-law is back on television so I must be off,” Elizabeth laughed. “Would you like to come around and join us?”
“Thanks but no, I’m OK here.”
“All right, love, but if you change your mind you know where we are. Bye, dear.”
Back to her empty, silent house.
Holly woke up the next morning still fully dressed and lying on her bed. She could feel herself slipping into her old habits again. All her positive thoughts of the past few weeks were melting away bit by bit every day. It was so bloody tiring trying to be happy all the time and she just didn’t have the energy anymore. Who cared if the house was a mess? Nobody but her was going to see it, and she certainly didn’t care one way or the other. Who cared if she didn’t wear makeup or wash for a week? She certainly had no intention of impressing anyone. The only guy she was seeing regularly was the pizza delivery boy, and she had to tip him to make him smile. Who bloody cared? Her phone vibrated beside her, signaling a message. It was from Sharon.
CLUB DIVA NO 36700700
THINK BOUT IT. WUD B FUN.
DO IT 4 GERRY?
Gerry’s bloody dead, she felt like texting back. But ever since she had begun opening the envelopes he didn’t feel dead to her. It was as though he were just away on holiday and writing her letters, so he wasn’t really gone. Well, the very least she could do was ring the club and suss out the situation. That didn’t mean she had to go through with it.
She dialed the number and a man answered. She couldn’t think of anything to say so she quickly hung up again. Oh, come on, Holly, she told herself, it’s really not that difficult, just say a friend is interested in singing.
Holly braced herself and pressed redial.
The same voice answered, “Club Diva.”
“Hi, I was wondering if you do karaoke nights there?”
“Yes we do, they are on a …,” she heard him leafing through some pages, “yeah sorry, they’re on a Thursday.”
“Thursday?”
“No sorry, sorry, hold on …” He leafed through some pages again. “No, they’re on a Tuesday night.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, they are definitely on a Tuesday.”
“OK, em, well, I was wondering if, em …” Holly took a deep breath and began the sentence again. “My friend might be interested in singing and she was wondering what she would have to do?”
There was a long pause on the other end.
“Hello?” Was this person stupid?
“Yeah sorry, I don’t actually organize the karaoke nights, so …”
“OK.” Holly was losing her temper. It had taken a lot to summon up the courage to actually make the call and some underqualified unhelpful little twit wasn’t going to ruin it for her. “Well, is there anyone there who might have a clue?”
“Eh, no, there isn’t, the club isn’t actually open yet, it’s very early in the morning still,” came the sarcastic response.
“Well, thank you very much, you’ve been a terrific help,” she said, matching his sarcasm.
“Excuse me, if you can just bear with me for a moment, I’ll try and find out for you.” Holly was put on hold and was forced to listen to “Greensleeves” for the next five minutes.
“Hello? Are you still there?”
“Barely,” she said angrily.
“OK, I’m very sorry about the delay but I just made a phone call there. What’s your friend’s name?”
Holly froze, she hadn’t planned on this. Well, maybe she could just give her name and then get “her friend” to call back and cancel if she changed her mind.
“Em, her name is Holly Kennedy.”
“OK, well, it’s actually a karaoke competition on Tuesday nights. It goes on for a month and every week two people out of ten are chosen till the last week of the month, where the six people sing again in the final.”
Holly gulped. She didn’t want to do this.
“But unfortunately,” he continued, “the names have all been entered a few months in advance, so you can tell your friend Holly that maybe she could try again at Christmas. That’s when the next competition is on.”
“Oh, OK.”
“By the way, the name Holly Kennedy rings a bell. Would that be Declan Kennedy’s sister?”
“Eh, yeah, why, do you know her?” said a shocked Holly.
“I wouldn’t say I know her, I just met her briefly here the other night with her brother.”
Was Declan going around and introducing girls as his sister? The sick and twisted little … No, that couldn’t be right, what on earth?
“Declan played a gig in Club Diva?”
“No no,” he laughed, “he played with his band downstairs in the basement.”
Holly quickly tried to digest the information until finally it clicked.
“Is Club Diva in Hogan’s?”
He laughed again, “Yeah, it’s on the top floor. Maybe I should advertise a bit more!”
“Is that Daniel?” Holly blurted out and then kicked herself for being so stupid.
“Eh, yeah, do I know you?”
“Em, no! No you don’t! Holly just mentioned you in conversation, that’s all.” Then she realized how that sounded. “Very briefly in conversation,” she added. “She said you gave her a stool.” Holly began hitting her head softly on the wall.
Daniel laughed again. “Oh, OK, well, tell her if she wants to sing in the karaoke at Christmas I can put her name down now for her. You wouldn’t believe the amount of people that want to sign up.”
“Really,” Holly said weakly. She felt like a fool.
“Oh, by the way, who am I speaking to?”
Holly paced her bedroom floor. “Em, Sharon, you’re speaking to Sharon.”
“OK, Sharon, well, I have your number on caller ID so I’ll call you if anyone backs out.”
“OK, thanks a lot.”
And he hung up.
And Holly leapt into bed, throwing the duvet over her head as she felt her face going purple with embarrassment. She hid under the covers, cursing herself for being such a bimbo. Ignoring the phone ringing, she tried to convince herself she hadn’t been a complete idiot. Eventually, after she had persuaded herself she could show her face in public again (it took a long time), she crawled out of bed and hit the button on her answering machine.
“Hi Sharon, I must have just missed you. It’s Daniel here from Club Diva.” He paused and then, laughing, added, “In Hogan’s. Em, I was just looking through the list of names in the book and it seems somebody already entered Holly’s name a few months back, in fact it’s one of the first entries. Unless it’s another Holly Kennedy …” He trailed off. “Anyway, call me back when you get a chance so we can sort it out. Thanks.”
Holly sat shocked on the edge of her bed, unable to move for the next few hours.
Twelve
SHARON, DENISE AND HOLLY SAT by the window in Bewley’s Café overlooking Grafton Street. They often met up there to watch the world go by; Sharon always said it was the best window-shopping she could ever do as she had a bird’s-e
ye view of all her favorite stores.
“I can’t believe Gerry organized all this!” gasped Denise when she heard the news. She flicked her long brown hair behind her shoulders and her bright blue eyes sparkled back at Holly enthusiastically.
“It’ll be a bit of fun, won’t it?” Sharon said excitedly.
“Oh God.” Holly had butterflies in her stomach just over the thought of it. “I still really, really, really don’t want to do it, but I feel I have to finish off what Gerry started.”
“That’s the spirit Hol!” said Denise, “and we’ll all be there to cheer you on!”
“Now hold on a minute, Denise,” Holly said, changing the celebratory tone. “I just want you and Sharon there, no one else. I don’t want to make a big deal out of this at all. Let’s keep it between us.”
“But Holly!” Sharon protested. “It is a big deal! No one ever thought you’d do karaoke again after last time …”
“Sharon!” warned Holly. “One must not speak of such things. One is still scarred from that experience.”
“Well, I think one is a daft cow for not getting over it,” mumbled Sharon.
“So when’s the big night?” Denise changed the subject, sensing bad vibes.
“Next Tuesday,” Holly groaned, bending forward and banging her head playfully on the table. The surrounding customers stared at her curiously.
“She’s just out for the day,” Sharon announced to the room, pointing at Holly.
“Don’t worry, Holly; that gives you seven days exactly to transform yourself into Mariah Carey. No problem at all,” Denise said, smiling at Sharon.
“Oh please, we would have a better chance teaching Lennox Lewis how to do ballet,” said Sharon.
Holly looked up from banging her head. “Well, thanks for the encouragement, Sharon.”
“Ooh, but imagine Lennox Lewis in a pair of tights, that tight little arse dancing around …,” Denise said dreamily.
Holly and Sharon stopped growling at each other to stare at their friend.
“You’ve lost the plot, Denise.”
“What?” Denise said, defensively snapping out of her fantasy. “Just imagine those big muscular thighs …”
“That would snap your neck in two if you went near him,” Sharon finished for her.
“Now there’s a thought,” Denise said, widening her eyes.
“I can see it all now,” Holly joined in, staring off into space. “The death pages would read: ‘Denise Hennessey has tragically died, crushed to death by the most tremendous thunder thighs after briefly catching a glimpse of heaven … ’”
“I like that,” Denise agreed. “Ooh, and what a way to die! Give me a slice of that heaven!”
“OK, you,” Sharon interrupted, pointing her finger at Denise, “keep your sordid little fantasies to yourself, please. And you,” she pointed at Holly, “stop trying to change the subject.”
“Oh, you’re just jealous, Sharon, because your husband couldn’t snap a matchstick between his skinny little thighs,” teased Denise.
“Excuse me, but John’s thighs are perfectly fine, I just wish mine could be more like his,” Sharon finished.
“Now you!” Denise pointed at Sharon. “Keep your sordid little fantasies to yourself.”
“Girls, girls!” Holly snapped her fingers in the air. “Let’s focus on me now, focus on me.” She gracefully motioned with her hands, bringing them toward her chest.
“OK, Ms. Selfish, what are you planning on singing?”
“I have no idea, that’s why I called this emergency meeting.”
“No it’s not, you told me you wanted to go shopping,” Sharon said.
“Oh really?” Denise said, looking at Sharon and raising an eyebrow. “I thought you were both coming to visit me on my lunch break.”
“You are both correct,” Holly asserted. “I am shopping for ideas and I need you both.”
“Ha-ha! Good answer,” they both agreed for once.
“OK, OK!” Sharon exclaimed excitedly. “I think I’ve got an idea. What was that song we sang for the whole two weeks in Spain and we couldn’t get it out of our heads and it used to bug the hell out of us?”
Holly shrugged her shoulders. If it bugged the hell out of them it was hardly a very good choice.
“I don’t know, I wasn’t invited on that holiday,” muttered Denise.
“Oh, you know the one, Holly!”
“I can’t remember.”
“Oh, you have to!”
“Sharon, I don’t think she can remember,” Denise frustratedly said to Sharon.
“Oh, what is it?” Sharon put her face in her hands, irritated. Holly shrugged her shoulders at Denise again. “OK, I’ve got it!!” she announced happily, and began to sing loudly in the café. “ ‘Sun, sea, sex, sand, come on boy give me your hand!’ ”
Holly’s eyes widened and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as people at the surrounding tables turned to stare. She turned to Denise for support in silencing Sharon.
“ ‘Ooh ooh ooh so sexy, so sexy!’ ” Denise joined in with Sharon. Some people stared in amusement but most in loathing while Denise and Sharon warbled their way through the tacky European dance song that had been a hit a few summers previously. Just as they were about to sing the chorus for the fourth time (neither of them could remember the verses), Holly silenced them.
“Girls, I can’t sing that song! Besides, the verses are rapped by a guy!”
“Well, at least you wouldn’t have to sing too much,” chuckled Denise.
“No way! I am not rapping at a karaoke competition!”
“Fair enough,” nodded Sharon.
“OK, well, what CD are you listening to at the moment?” Denise got serious again.
“Westlife?” she looked at them hopefully.
“Then sing a Westlife song,” Sharon encouraged. “That way, at least you’ll know all the words.”
Sharon and Denise began to laugh uncontrollably. “You might not get the tune right,” Sharon forced out between hacking laughs.
“But at least you’ll know the words!” Denise managed to finish for her before the two of them doubled over at the table.
First Holly was angry, but looking at the both of them crouched over, holding their stomachs in hysterics, she had to giggle. They were right, Holly was completely tone-deaf and hadn’t a note in her head. Finding a song she could actually sing was going to prove impossible. Finally after the girls settled down again, Denise looked at her watch and moaned about having to get back to work. They left Bewley’s (much to the other customers’ delight). “The miserable sods will probably throw a party now,” Sharon had mumbled, passing their tables.
The three girls linked arms and walked down Grafton Street, heading toward the clothes store where Denise was manager. The day was sunny with just a light chill in the air; Grafton Street was busy as usual with people running around on their lunch breaks while shoppers slowly meandered up the street, taking full advantage of the lack of rain. At every stretch of the road there was a busker fighting for attention from the crowds, and Denise and Sharon embarrassingly did a quick Irish dance as they passed a man playing the fiddle. He winked at them and they threw some money into his tweed cap on the ground.
“Right, you ladies of leisure, I better head back to work,” Denise said, pushing the door to her shop open. As soon as her staff saw her they scarpered from gossiping at the counter and immediately began to fix the clothes rails. Holly and Sharon tried not to laugh. They said their good-byes and both headed up to Stephen’s Green to collect their cars.
“ ‘Sun, sea, sex, sand,’ ” Holly quietly sang to herself. “Oh shit, Sharon! You’ve got that stupid song in my head now,” she complained.
“You see, there you go with that ‘shit Sharon’ thing again. So negative, Holly.” Sharon began humming the song.
“Oh, shut up!” Holly laughed, hitting her on the arm.
Thirteen
IT WAS FOUR O’CLOCK BY the time Hol
ly eventually got out of town and started heading home to Swords. Evil Sharon convinced Holly to go shopping after all, which resulted in her splashing out on a ridiculous top she was far too old to wear. She really needed to watch her spending from now on; her funds were running low, and without regular income she could sense tense times ahead. She needed to start thinking about getting a job, but she was finding it hard enough to get out of bed in the morning as it was, another depressing nine-to-five job wasn’t going to help matters. But it would help pay the bills. Holly sighed loudly, all these things she had to handle all by herself. The thought of it was just depressing her, and her problem was that she spent too much time on her own thinking about it. She needed people around her, like today with Denise and Sharon, as they always succeeded in taking her mind off things. She phoned her mum and checked if it was all right for her to call around.
“Of course you can, love, you’re always welcome here.” Then she lowered her voice to a whisper, “Just as long as you know that Richard is here.” Christ! What was with all the little visits all of a sudden?
Holly had contemplated heading straight home when she heard that but convinced herself she was being silly. He was her brother, and as annoying as he was, she couldn’t go on avoiding him forever.
She arrived to an extremely loud and crowded house and it felt like old times again, hearing screams and shouts in every room. Her mum was setting an extra place at the table just as she walked in. “Oh, Mum, you should have told me you were having dinner,” Holly said, giving her a hug and a kiss.
“Why, have you eaten already?”
“No, actually I’m starving, but I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble.”
“No trouble at all, dear, it just means that poor Declan will have to go without food for the day, that’s all,” she said, teasing her son who was taking his seat. He made a face at her.
The atmosphere was so much more relaxed this time around, or maybe it had just been Holly who was uptight during the last family dinner.
“So, Mr. Hard Worker, why aren’t you in college today?” she said sarcastically.
“I’ve been in college all morning,” he replied, making a face, “and I’m going back in at eight o’clock, actually.”
PS, I Love You: A Novel Page 8
