PS, I Love You. Cecelia Ahern

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PS, I Love You - Cecelia Ahern

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closed behind Richard and Meredith everyone else began to leave one by one. Holly stepped into the chilly air and walked to her car alone. Her mum and dad stood at the door waving her off but she still felt so lonely. Usually she left dinner parties with Gerry, or if not with him then she was returning home to him. But not tonight or the next night or the night after that.

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      On her birthday, Holly stood in front of the full-length mirror and inspected herself. She had carried out Gerry’s orders and had purchased a new outfit. What for, she didn’t know but several times a day she had to drag herself away from the temptation of opening the envelope for May. There were only two days left until she could and the anticipation left her no room to think of anything else.

      She had settled on wearing an all-black outfit to suit her current mood. Black fitted trousers slimmed her legs and were tailored perfectly to sit over her black boots. A black corset that made her look like she had a bigger chest finished the outfit off perfectly. Leo had done a wonderful job on her hair, tying it up and allowing strands to fall in loose waves around her shoulders. Holly ran her fingers through her hair and smiled at the memory of her time at the hairdressers …

      She had arrived at the salon with her face flushed, and out of breath. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Leo. I got caught on the phone and didn’t realise the time.’

      ‘Don’t worry, love. Whenever you make an appointment I have the staff trained to pencil it in for half an hour later. COLIN!’ he yelled, clicking his fingers in the air.

      Colin dropped everything and ran.

      ‘God, are you taking horse tranquillisers or something? The length of your hair already, and I just cut it a few weeks ago.’

      He pumped vigorously on the chair, raising Holly higher. ‘Anything special tonight?’ he asked.

      ‘The big three-0,’ she said, biting her lip.

      ‘What’s that, your local bus route?’

      ‘No! I’m the big three-0!’

      ‘Of course I knew that, love. COLIN!’ he yelled again, snapping his fingers in the air once more.

      Colin appeared from the staff room behind Holly with a cake in his hand, followed by a row of hairdressers joining Leo in a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’. Holly was dumbfounded. She battled the tears that were welling in her eyes and failed miserably. By this stage the entire salon had joined in and Holly was so overwhelmed by their show of love. When it was over everyone applauded and normal business resumed.

      Holly couldn’t speak.

      ‘Christ Almighty, Holly, one week you’re in here laughing so hard you practically fall off your chair and the next visit you’re crying!’

      ‘Oh, but that was just so special, Leo, thank you,’ she said, drying her eyes and giving him a huge hug and a kiss.

      ‘Well, I had to get you back after you mortified me,’ he said, shrugging her off, uncomfortable with the sentimentality.

      Holly laughed, remembering Leo’s surprise fiftieth birthday party. The theme had been ‘feathers and lace’. Holly had worn a beautiful tight-fitting lace dress, and Gerry, who was always game for a laugh, had worn a pink feather boa to match his pink shirt and tie. Leo claimed to have been excruciatingly embarrassed but everyone knew he was secretly delighted with all the attention. The next day, Leo had rung every guest who had attended the party and left a threatening message on their machine. Holly had been terrified to make an appointment with him for weeks after that in case he butchered her hair. Word had it that business was very slow for Leo that week.

      ‘Well, you enjoyed the stripper that night, anyway,’ Holly teased.

      ‘Enjoyed? I went out with him for a month after that. The bastard.’

      A slice of cake arrived in front of each customer and everyone turned to thank her.

      ‘Don’t know why they’re thanking you,’ Leo muttered under his breath. ‘I’m the one who bloody bought it.’

      ‘Don’t worry, Leo, I’ll make sure your tip covers the cost.’

      ‘Are you mad? Your tip wouldn’t cover the cost of my bus fare home.’

      ‘Leo, you live next door.’

      ‘Exactly!’

      Holly pouted her lip and pretended to sulk.

      Leo laughed. ‘Thirty years old and you’re still acting like a baby. Where are you off to tonight?’

      ‘Oh, nowhere mad. I just want a low-key, nice quiet night out with the girls.’

      ‘That’s what I said at my fiftieth. Who’s going?’

      ‘Sharon, Ciara, Abbey, and Denise – haven’t seen her for ages.’

      ‘Ciara home?’

      ‘Yeah, her and her pink hair.’

      ‘Merciful hour! She’ll stay away from me if she knows what’s good for her. Right, missus, you look fab, you’ll be the belle of the ball – have fun!’

      Holly stopped daydreaming and gazed at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t look thirty or feel thirty. But then again what was being thirty supposed to feel like? When she was younger, thirty seemed so far away, she’d thought that a woman of that age would be wise and knowledgeable, settled in her life with a husband and children and a career. She had none of those things. She still felt as clueless as when she was twenty, only with a few grey hairs, and crow’s feet around her eyes. She sat down on the edge of the bed and continued to stare at herself. There was nothing about being thirty worth celebrating.

      The doorbell rang and Holly could hear the excited chatter of the girls outside. She tried to perk herself up, took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face.

      ‘Happy birthday!’ they all yelled in unison.

      She stared back at their smiling faces and was immediately cheered by their enthusiasm. She ushered them into the living room and waved hello to the camera being brandished by Declan.

      ‘No, Holly, you’re supposed to ignore him!’ hissed Denise, and dragged her by the arm onto the couch where they all surrounded her and immediately started thrusting presents in her face.

      ‘Open mine first!’ squealed Ciara, knocking Sharon out of the way so hard that she toppled off the couch. Sharon froze in horror, unsure of how to react, then burst into giggles.

      ‘OK, calm down, everyone,’ said the voice of reason (Abbey), struggling to help up a hysterical Sharon. ‘I think we should pop open the bubbly first and then open the pressies.’

      ‘OK, but as long as she opens mine first,’ pouted Ciara.

      ‘Ciara, I promise to open yours first.’ Holly spoke as though addressing a child.

      Abbey raced into the kitchen and returned with a tray full of champagne flutes.

      ‘Anyone

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