She began to laugh, 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 karaoke, 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 an expert; 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.
‘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 karaoke. Am I right?’
‘Yes,’ Holly replied.
‘And do you have to sing?’ enquired Sharon.
‘Ye-eess,’ she replied slowly. Maybe if she didn’t say it, it wouldn’t have to happen.
The others burst out laughing so loud, Holly had to 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,’ she said away from the phone. ‘I’m sorry, Holly, but I just kept thinking about the last time you—’
‘Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ Holly 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 marvellously the last time!’
Sharon was very quiet.
‘Sharon?’
More silence.
‘Sharon, you still there?’
There was no answer.
‘Sharon, are you laughing?’ Holly gave out.
Holly heard a little squeak and the line went dead.
‘What wonderfully supportive friends I have,’ she muttered under her breath.
‘Oh, Gerry!’ she yelled. ‘I thought you were supposed to be helping me, not turning me into a nervous wreck!’
She got very little sleep that night.
Chapter Ten
‘Happy 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 even have been a first. She opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish, completely unsure what to say.
‘I brought you a potted mini phalaenopsis orchid,’ he said, handing her a plant. ‘They have been shipped fresh, budding and are ready to bloom.’ He sounded like an advertisement.
Holly was even more stunned. She fingered the tiny pink buds. ‘Gosh, Richard, orchids are my favourite!’
‘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 maths 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 as if 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 quite managed to reach his eyes. He was the drill sergeant of his own body, screaming at it and punishing himself every time he lapsed into human mode. 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.
‘No, no, Holly,’ Richard said, wagging a finger at her as though she was a naughty child, ‘you shouldn’t put it there. It needs to be in a cool, draught-free location away from harsh sunlight and heat
