P.S. I Love You (8 page)

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.

Holly sat at her kitchen table nervously drumming her fingers on the wood. She gulped back her third cup of coffee and uncrossed her legs. Staying awake for just two more hours had proved more difficult than she thought; she was obviously still tired from overindulging at her party. She tapped her feet under the table with no particular rhythm, and then crossed her legs again. It was 11:30 P.M. She had the envelope on the table in front of her and she could almost see it sticking its tongue out and singing ‘Na-na na-na-na&rsquo.

She picked it up and ran it over in her hands. Who would know if she opened it early? Sharon and John had probably forgotten there was even an envelope for May, and Denise was probably conked out after the stress of her two-day hangover. She could just as easily lie if they ever asked her if she cheated, then again they probably wouldn’t even care. No one would know and no one would care.

But that wasn’t true.

Gerry would know.

Each time Holly held the envelopes in her hand she felt a connection with Gerry. The last two times she opened them she had felt as though Gerry were sitting right beside her and laughing at her reactions. She felt like they were playing a game together even though they were in two different worlds. But she could
feel
him, and he would know if she cheated, he would know if she disobeyed the rules of their game.

After another cup of coffee Holly was bouncing off the walls. The small hand of the clock seemed to be auditioning for a part in
Baywatch
with its slow-motion run around the dial, but eventually it struck midnight. Once again she slowly turned the envelope over and treasured every moment of the process. Gerry sat opposite her at the table. “Go on; open it!”

She carefully tore open the seal and ran her fingers along it, knowing the last thing that had touched it was Gerry’s tongue. She slid the card out of its pouch and opened it.

Go on, Disco Diva! Face your fear of karaoke at Club Diva this month and you never know, you might be rewarded…

PS, I love you…

She felt Gerry watching her and the corners of her lips lifted into a smile and she began to laugh. Holly kept repeating ‘
no way!
’ whenever she caught her breath. Finally she calmed down and announced to the room, “Gerry! You bastard! There is absolutely no way I am going through with this!”

Gerry laughed louder.

“This is
not
funny. You know how I feel about this, and I refuse to do it. Nope. No way. Not doing it.”

“You have to do it, you know,” laughed Gerry.

“I do not have to do this!”

“Do it for me.”

“I am not doing it for you, for me or for world peace. I hate karaoke!”

“Do it for me,” he repeated.

The sound of the phone caused Holly to jump in her seat. It was Sharon. “OK, it’s five past twelve, what did it say? John and I are dying to know!”

“What makes you think I opened it?”

“Ha!” Sharon snorted. “Twenty years of friendship qualifies me as being an expert on you; now come on, tell us what it says.”

“I’m not doing it,” Holly stated bluntly.

“What? You’re not telling us?”

“No, I’m not doing what he wants me to do.”

“Why, what is it?”

“Oh, just Gerry’s
pathetic
attempt at being
humorous
,” she snapped at the ceiling.

“Oh, I’m intrigued now,” Sharon said, “tell us.”

“Holly, spill the beans, what is it?” John was on the downstairs phone.

“OK…Gerry wants me…to…singatakaraoke,” she rushed out.

“Huh? Holly, we didn’t understand a word you said,” Sharon gave out.

“No, I did,” interrupted John. “I think I heard something about a karaoke. Am I right?”

“Yes,” Holly replied like a bold little girl.

“And do you have to sing?” inquired Sharon.

“Ye-eess,” she replied slowly. Maybe if she didn’t say it, it wouldn’t have to happen.

The other two burst out laughing so loud, Holly had to quickly remove the phone from her ear. “Phone me back when the two of you shut up,” she said angrily, hanging up.

A few minutes later they called back.

“Yes?”

She heard Sharon snort down the phone, relapse into a fit of the giggles and then the line went dead.

Ten minutes later she phoned back.

“Yes?”

“OK.” Sharon had an overly serious ‘let’s get down to business’ tone in her voice. “I’m sorry about that, I’m fine now. Don’t look at me, John,” Sharon said away from the phone. “I’m sorry, Holly, but I just kept thinking about the last time you —”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she interrupted, “you don’t need to bring it back up. It was
the most embarrassing day of my life
, so I just happen to remember it. That’s why I’m not doing it.”

“Oh, Holly, you can’t let a stupid thing like that put you off!”

“Well, if that wouldn’t put a person off, then they’re clinically insane!”

“Holly, it was only a little fall…”

“Yes, thank you! I remember it just fine! Anyway I can’t even sing, Sharon; I think I established that fact marvelously the last time!”

Sharon was very quiet.

“Sharon?”

Still silence.

“Sharon, you still there?”

There was no answer.

“Sharon, are you laughing?” Holly gave out.

She heard a little squeak and the line went dead.

“What wonderfully supportive friends I have,” she muttered under her breath.

“Oh Gerry!” Holly yelled. “I thought you were supposed to be helping me, not turning me into a nervous wreck!”

She got very little sleep that night.

TEN

H
APPY BIRTHDAY, HOLLY! OR SHOULD I say happy belated birthday?” Richard laughed nervously. Holly’s mouth dropped open in shock at the sight of her older brother standing on her doorstep. This was a rare occurrence; in fact, it may have been a first. She opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish, completely unsure of what to say. “I brought you a potted mini Phalaenopsis orchid,” he said, handing her a potted plant. “They have been shipped fresh, budding, and are ready to bloom.” He sounded like an advertisement. Holly was even more stunned as she fingered the tiny pink buds. “Gosh, Richard, orchids are my favorite!”

“Well, you have a nice big garden here anyway, nice and” — he cleared his throat — “green. Bit overgrown, though…” He trailed off and began that annoying rocking thing he did with his feet.

“Would you like to come in or are you just passing through?” Please say no, please say no. Despite the thoughtful gift, Holly was in no mood for Richard’s company.

“Well yes, I’ll come in for a little while so.” He wiped his feet for a good two minutes at the door before stepping into the house. He reminded Holly of her old math teacher at school, dressed in a brown knitted cardigan with brown trousers that stopped just at the top of his neat little brown loafers. He hadn’t a hair on his head out of place and his fingernails were clean and perfectly manicured. Holly could imagine him measuring them with a little ruler every night to see that they didn’t outgrow the required European standard length for fingernails, if such a thing existed.

Richard never seemed comfortable in his own skin. He looked like he was being choked to death by his tightly knotted (brown) tie, and he always walked as if he had a barge pole shoved up his backside. On the rare occasions that he smiled, the smile never managed to reach his eyes. He was the drill sergeant of his own body, screaming at and punishing himself every time he lapsed into human mode. But he did it to himself, and the sad thing was that he thought he was better off than everyone else for it. Holly led him into the living room and placed the ceramic pot on top of the TV for the time being.