at the thought. Every time she had a headache it reminded her of Gerry. She hated to hear her loved ones complaining of headaches and migraines, and would immediately launch herself at them, telling them how they should take it more seriously and go see their doctors. She ended up petrifying everyone with her stories and they eventually stopped telling her whenever they felt ill.
She sighed loudly. She was turning into such a hypochondriac even her doctor was sick of the sight of her. She went running to her in a panic over the tiniest little things: if she had a pain in her leg or a cramp in her stomach. Last week she was convinced there was something wrong with her feet; her toes just didn’t look quite right. Her doctor had examined them seriously and then had immediately started to scribble her prescription down on a slip of paper while Holly watched in terror. Eventually she handed her the piece of paper, and scrawled messily in that handwriting only doctors can perfect was: ‘Buy bigger shoes.’
It may have been funny but it cost her forty euro.
Holly had spent the last few minutes on the phone listening to Jack ranting and raving about Richard. Richard had paid him a little visit too. Holly wondered whether he was just trying to bond with his siblings after years of hiding from them. Well, it was too little too late for most of them, it seemed. It was certainly very difficult trying to hold a conversation with someone who hadn’t yet mastered the art of politeness.
Oh, stop, stop, stop! she silently screamed to herself. She needed to stop worrying, stop thinking, stop making her brain go into overdrive, and she certainly needed to stop talking to herself. She was driving herself crazy.
She finally finished hanging out the washing more than two hours later and piled another load into the machine. She switched the radio on in the kitchen, had the television blaring from the living room and went about her housework. Perhaps that would drown out the whinging little voice from her head.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Holly arrived at Hogan’s and pushed her way through the old men in the pub to the stairs to Club Diva. The traditional band was in full swing and the crowd was joining in with all their favourite Irish songs. It was only seven thirty so Club Diva wasn’t officially open yet, and the empty space looked like a completely different venue from the one where she had been so terrified in a few weeks ago. She was the first to arrive and settled herself at a table right in front of the big screen so she would have a perfect view of her brother’s documentary.
A glass smashing over by the bar made her jump, and she looked up to see who had joined her in the room. Daniel’s head emerged from behind the bar with a dustpan and brush in his hand.
‘Oh, hiya, Holly. I didn’t realise anyone had come in.’
‘I came early, for a change.’ She walked over to the bar to greet him. He looked different tonight, she thought, inspecting him.
‘God, you’re really early,’ he said. ‘The others probably won’t be here for another hour or so.’
Holly looked confused and glanced at her watch. ‘But it’s seven thirty – the show starts at eight, doesn’t it?’
Now Daniel looked confused. ‘No, I was told nine o’clock but I could be wrong …’ he reached for that day’s paper and looked at the TV page. ‘Yep, nine o’clock, Channel Four.’
Holly rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, no, I’m sorry, I’ll wander around town for a bit and come back later so,’ she said hopping off her stool.
‘Hey, don’t be silly.’ Daniel flashed his pearly whites. ‘The shops are all closed by now and you can keep me company – that’s if you don’t mind …’
‘Well, I don’t mind if you don’t mind.’
‘I don’t mind,’ he said firmly.
‘Then I’ll stay so,’ she said happily, hopping back on to her stool.
Daniel leaned his hands against the taps in a typical barman pose. ‘So now that that’s settled, what can I get you?’ he said smiling.
‘Well, this is great, no queuing or shouting my order across the bar or anything,’ she joked. ‘I’ll have a sparkling water, please.’
‘Nothing stronger?’ He raised his eyebrows. His smile was infectious; it seemed to reach from ear to ear.
‘No, I’d better not or I’ll be drunk by the time everyone gets here.’
‘Good thinking,’ he agreed, and reached behind him to the fridge to retrieve the bottled water.
Holly realised what it was that made him look so different: he wasn’t in his trademark black. He was wearing faded blue jeans and an open light blue shirt, with a white T-shirt underneath, that complemented his blue eyes so that they seemed to twinkle even more than usual. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to just below his elbows, and Holly could see his muscles through the light fabric. She quickly averted her eyes as he slid the glass towards her.
‘Can I get you anything?’ she asked him.
‘No, thanks, I’ll take care of this one.’
‘No, please,’ Holly insisted. ‘You’ve bought me plenty of drinks. It’s my turn.’
‘OK, I’ll have a Budweiser then, thanks.’ He leaned against the bar and continued to stare at her.
‘What? Do you want me to get it?’ Holly laughed, jumping off her stool and walking round the bar. Daniel stood back and watched her with amusement.
‘I always wanted to work behind a bar when I was a kid,’ she said, grabbing a pint glass and pulling down on the tap. She was enjoying herself.
‘There’s a spare job if you’re looking for one,’ Daniel said, closely watching her work.
‘No, thanks, I think I do a better job on the other side of the bar,’ she laughed, filling the pint glass.
‘Mmm … well, if you’re ever looking for work you know where to come,’ Daniel said, after taking a gulp of his pint. ‘You did a good job.’
‘It’s not exactly brain surgery,’ she smiled, bouncing across to the other side of the bar. She took out her purse and handed him money. ‘Keep the change.’
‘Thanks,’ he smiled, turning to open the cash register and she scorned herself for checking out his bum. It was nice, though – firm, but not as nice as Gerry’s, she decided.
‘Has your husband deserted you again tonight?’ he teased, walking round the bar to join her.
Holly bit her lip and wondered how to answer him. Now wasn’t really the time to talk about something so depressing to someone who was only making chitchat, but she didn’t want the poor man to keep asking her every time he saw her. He would soon realise the truth, which would cause him even more embarrassment.
‘Daniel,’ she said softly, ‘I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable but my husband passed away.’
Daniel stopped in his tracks and his cheeks blushed slightly, ‘Oh, Holly, I’m sorry, I didn’t know,’ he said sincerely.
‘It’s
