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PS, I Love You, Page 25

Cecelia Ahern


  “Richard, I’ve recently learned that talking about things helps,” Holly said gently. “And coming from me that’s a huge tip, because I used to keep my mouth shut thinking I was superwoman, able to keep all feelings inside.” She smiled at him encouragingly. “Why don’t you tell me about it.”

  He looked doubtful.

  “I won’t laugh, I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to. I won’t tell a soul what you tell me, I’ll just listen,” she assured him.

  He looked away from her and focused on the salt and pepper shakers at the center of the table and spoke quietly, “I lost my job.”

  Holly remained silent and waited for him to say more. After a while, when she didn’t say anything, Richard looked up to face her.

  “That’s not so bad, Richard,” she said softly, giving him a smile. “I know you loved your job, but you can find another one. Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I used to lose my jobs all the time—”

  “I lost my job in April, Holly,” he interrupted. Then he spoke angrily, “It is now September. There’s nothing for me … not in my line of work …” He looked away.

  “Oh.” Holly didn’t know quite what to say. After a long silence she spoke again, “But at least Meredith is still working, so you still have a regular income. Just take the time you need to find the right job … I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but—”

  “Meredith left me last month,” he interrupted her again, and this time his voice was weaker.

  Holly’s hands flew to her mouth. Oh, poor Richard. She had never liked the bitch, but Richard had adored her. “The kids?” she asked carefully.

  “They’re living with her,” he said and his voice cracked.

  “Oh Richard, I’m so sorry,” she said, fidgeting with her hands, not knowing where to put them. Should she hug him or leave him alone?

  “I’m sorry too,” he said miserably and continued to stare at the salt and pepper shakers.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Richard, so don’t go telling yourself it was,” she protested strongly.

  “Wasn’t it?” he said, his voice beginning to shake. “She told me I was a pathetic man who couldn’t even look after his own family.” He broke down again.

  “Oh, never mind that silly bitch,” Holly said angrily. “You are an excellent father and a loyal husband,” she said strongly and realized she meant every word of it. “Timmy and Emily love you because you’re fantastic with them, so don’t mind what that demented woman says to you.” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged her brother while he cried. She felt so angry she wanted to go over to Meredith and punch her in the face. In fact, she had always wanted to do that, but now she even had an excuse.

  Richard’s tears finally subsided and he pulled away from her and grabbed another tissue. Holly’s heart went out to him; he had always tried so hard to be perfect and to create a perfect life and family for himself and it hadn’t worked out as he had planned. He seemed to be in a great deal of shock.

  “Where are you staying?” she asked, suddenly realizing that he had had no home to go to for the past few weeks.

  “In a B&B down the road. Nice place. Friendly people,” he said, pouring another cup of tea. Your wife leaves you and you have a cup of tea …

  “Richard, you can’t stay there,” Holly protested. “Why didn’t you tell any of us?”

  “Because I thought we could work it out, but we can’t … she’s made up her mind.”

  As much as Holly wanted to invite him to stay with her in her house, she just couldn’t do it. She had far too much to deal with on her own, and she was sure Richard would understand that.

  “What about Mum and Dad?” she asked. “They would love to be able to help you out.”

  Richard shook his head. “No, Ciara’s home now and so is Declan, I wouldn’t want to dump myself on them as well. I’m a grown man now.”

  “Oh Richard, don’t be silly.” She made a face. “There’s the spare room, which is your old room. I’m positive you would be welcome back there.” She tried to persuade him. “Sure I even slept there a few nights ago.”

  He looked up from staring at the table.

  “There is absolutely nothing wrong with returning to the house you grew up in every now and again. It’s good for the soul.” She smiled at him.

  He looked uncertain. “Em … I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Holly.”

  “If it’s Ciara you’re worried about, then don’t. She’s heading back to Australia in a few weeks with her boyfriend so the house will be … less hectic.”

  His face relaxed a little.

  Holly smiled. “So what do you think? Come on, it’s a great idea and this way you won’t be throwing your money away on some smelly ol’ dump. I don’t care how nice you say the owners are.”

  Richard smiled and it quickly faded again. “I couldn’t ask Mother and Father, Holly, I … wouldn’t know what to say.”

  “I’ll go with you,” she promised. “And I’ll talk to them for you. Honestly, Richard, they’ll be delighted to help out. You’re their son and they love you. We all do,” she added, placing her hand over his.

  “OK,” he finally agreed, and she linked her arm in his as they headed out to their cars.

  “Oh by the way, Richard, thank you for my garden.” Holly smiled at him, then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

  “You know?” he asked, surprised.

  She nodded. “You have a huge talent, and I’m going to pay you every single penny you deserve as soon as I find a job.”

  Her brother’s face relaxed into a shy smile.

  They got into their cars and drove back to Portmarnock to the house they’d grown up in.

  · · ·

  Two days later Holly looked at herself in the toilet mirror of the office building where her first job interview was taking place. She had lost so much weight since she had last worn her old suits that she had had to go out and purchase a new one. It was flattering to her new slim figure. The jacket was long and went to just above her knees, and it was fastened tightly by one button at the waist. The trousers were just the right fit and fell perfectly over her boots. The outfit was black with light pink lines going through and she matched it with a light pink top underneath. She felt like a hotshot advertising businesswoman in control of her life, and all she needed to do now was to sound like one. She applied another layer of pink lip gloss and ran her fingers through her loose curls, which she had decided to allow to tumble down her shoulders. She took a deep breath and headed back out to the waiting area.

  She took her seat again and glanced down at all the other applicants for the job. They seemed far younger than Holly and they all seemed to have a thick folder of some kind sitting on their laps. She looked around and started to panic … sure enough everybody had one of these folders. She stood up from her seat again and headed over to the secretary.

  “Excuse me,” Holly said, trying to get her attention.

  The woman looked up and smiled, “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, I was just in the toilet there and I think I must have missed being given a folder.” Holly smiled politely at her.

  The woman frowned and looked confused. “I’m sorry, what folders were handed out?”

  Holly turned around and pointed to the folders sitting on the other applicants’ laps and turned to face the secretary with a smile on her face.

  The lady smiled and motioned her to come closer with her finger.

  Holly tucked her hair behind her ears and moved nearer. “Yes?”

  “Sorry honey, but they’re actually portfolios that they brought themselves,” she whispered to her so that Holly wouldn’t be embarrassed.

  Holly’s face froze. “Oh. Should I have brought one of them with me?”

  “Well, do you have one?” the lady asked with a friendly smile.

  Holly shook her head.

  “Well then, don’t worry about it. It’s not a requirement, people just bring these things to
show off,” she whispered to her and Holly giggled.

  Holly returned to her seat and continued to worry about this portfolio business. Nobody had said anything to her about any stupid portfolios. Why was she the last to know everything? She tapped her foot and looked around the office while she waited. She got a good feeling from the place, the colors were warm and cozy and the light poured in from the large Georgian windows. The ceilings were high and there was a lovely feeling of space. Holly could sit there all day thinking. She suddenly felt so relaxed that her heart didn’t even jump as her name was called. She walked confidently down toward the door of the interview office and the secretary winked at her to wish her good luck. Holly smiled back at her; for some reason she already felt part of the team. She paused just outside the door of the office and took a deep breath.

  Shoot for the moon, she whispered to herself, shoot for the moon.

  Thirty-four

  HOLLY KNOCKED LIGHTLY ON THE door and a deep gruff voice told her to enter. Her heart did a little flip at the sound of his voice, feeling as if she had been summoned to the principal’s office at school. She wiped her clammy hands on her suit and entered the room.

  “Hello,” she said more confidently than she felt. She walked across the small room and held out her hand to the man who had stood up from his chair and was extending his hand to her. He greeted her with a big smile and a warm handshake. The face didn’t seem to match the grumpy voice at all, thankfully. Holly relaxed a little at the sight of him, he reminded her of her father. He looked to be in his late fifties with a big cuddly bear physique, and she had to stop herself from leaping over the desk to hug him. His hair was neat and almost a sparkling silver color and she imagined he had been an extremely handsome man in his youth.

  “Holly Kennedy, isn’t it?” he said, taking his seat and glancing down at her CV in front of him. She sat down in the seat opposite him and forced herself to relax. She had read every interview technique manual she could get her hands on over the past few days and had tried to put it all into practice, from walking into the room to the proper handshake to the way she positioned herself in her chair. She wanted to look like she was experienced, intelligent and highly confident. But she would need more than a firm handshake to succeed in proving that.

  “That’s right,” she said, placing her handbag on the ground beside her and resting her sweaty hands on her lap.

  He put his glasses on the end of his nose and flicked through her CV in silence. Holly stared at him intently and tried to read his facial expressions. It wasn’t an easy task, as he was one of those people who had a constant frown on his face while he read. Well, it was either that or he wasn’t at all impressed by what he was seeing. She glanced around at his desk and waited for him to start speaking again. Her eyes fell upon a silver photo frame with three pretty girls close to her age all smiling happily at the camera. She continued to stare at it with a smile on her face, and when she looked up she realized he had put the CV down and was watching her. She smiled and tried to appear more businesslike.

  “Before we start talking about you, I’ll explain exactly who I am and what the job entails,” he explained.

  Holly nodded along with him, intending to look very interested.

  “My name is Chris Feeney and I’m the founder and editor of the magazine, or the boss man as everyone likes to call me around here,” he chuckled, and Holly was charmed by his twinkling blue eyes.

  “Basically we are looking for someone to deal with the advertising aspect of the magazine. As you know, the running of a magazine or any media organization is hugely reliant on the advertising we receive. We need the money for our magazine to be published, so this job is extremely important. Unfortunately, our last man had to leave us in a hurry, so I’m looking for somebody who could begin work almost immediately. How would you feel about that?”

  Holly nodded. “That would be no problem at all, in fact I’m eager to begin work as soon as possible.”

  Mr. Feeney nodded and looked down at her CV again. “I see you’ve been out of the workforce for over a year now, am I correct in saying that?” He lowered his head and stared at her over the rim of his glasses.

  “Yes that’s right,” Holly nodded. “And I can assure you that was purely out of choice. Unfortunately my husband was ill, and I had to take time off work to be with him.”

  She swallowed hard; she knew that this would be an issue for every employer. Nobody wanted to employ someone who had been idle for the past year.

  “I see,” he said, looking up at her. “Well, I hope that he’s fully recovered now,” he said, smiling warmly.

  Holly wasn’t sure whether that was a question or not and wasn’t sure whether to keep talking. Did he want to hear about her personal life? He continued to look at her and she realized he was waiting for an answer.

  She cleared her throat. “Well no, actually, Mr. Feeney, unfortunately he passed away in February … he had a brain tumor. That’s why I felt it was important to leave my job.”

  “Gosh.” Mr. Feeney put down the CV and took his glasses off. “Of course I can understand that. I’m very sorry to hear that,” he said sincerely. “It must be hard for you being so young and all …” He looked down at his desk for a while and then met her eyes again. “My wife lost her life to breast cancer just last year, so I understand how you may be feeling,” he said generously.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Holly said sadly, looking at the kind man across the table.

  “They say it gets easier,” he smiled.

  “So they say,” Holly said grimly. “Apparently gallons of tea does the trick.”

  He started to laugh, a big guffaw of a laugh. “Yes! I’ve been told that one too, and my daughters inform me that fresh air is also a healer.”

  Holly laughed. “Ah yes, the magic fresh air; it does wonders for the heart. Are they your daughters?” She smiled, looking at the photograph.

  “Indeed they are,” he said, smiling also. “My three little doctors who try to keep me alive,” he laughed. “Unfortunately the garden no longer looks like that anymore, though,” he said, referring to the photograph.

  “Wow, is that your garden?” Holly said, wide-eyed. “It’s beautiful; I presumed it was the Botanic Gardens or somewhere like that.”

  “That was Maureen’s specialty. You can’t get me out of the office long enough to sort through that mess.”

  “Oh, don’t talk to me about gardens,” Holly said, rolling her eyes, “I’m not exactly Ms. Greenfingers myself, and the place is beginning to look like a jungle.” Well, it did look like a jungle, she thought to herself.

  They continued to look at each other and smile, and Holly was comforted to hear a similar story from someone else in her position. Whether she got the job or not, at least she was comforted that she was not entirely alone.

  “Anyway, getting back to the interview,” Mr. Feeney said. “Have you any experience in working with the media at all?”

  Holly didn’t like the way he said “at all”; it meant that he had read through her CV and couldn’t see any sign of experience for the job.

  “Yes I have, actually.” She returned to business mode and tried hard to impress him. “I once worked in an estate agents and I was responsible for dealing with the media regarding advertising the new properties that were for sale. So I was on the other end of what this job requires and so I know how to deal with companies who are wishing to buy space.”

  Mr. Feeney nodded along. “But you have never actually worked on a magazine or newspaper or anything like that?”

  Holly nodded her head slowly and racked her brains for something to say. “But I was responsible for printing up a weekly newsletter for a company I worked for …” She rambled on and on, grasping at every little straw she could, and realized she was sounding rather pathetic.

  Mr. Feeney was too polite to interrupt her as she went through every job she’d ever worked at and exaggerated anything that was in any way related to advertisi
ng or media. Eventually she stopped talking as she grew bored at the sound of her own voice, and she twisted her fingers around each other nervously on her lap. She was underqualified for this job and she knew it, but she also knew that she could do it if he would just give her the chance.

  Mr. Feeney took off his glasses. “I see. Well Holly, I can see that you have a great deal of experience in the workplace in various different areas, but I notice that you haven’t stayed in any of your jobs for a period longer than of nine months …”

  “I was searching for the right job for me,” Holly said, her confidence now totally shattered.

  “So how do I know you won’t desert me after a few months?” He smiled but she knew he was serious.

  “Because this is the right job for me,” she said seriously. Holly took a deep breath as she felt her chances slipping away from her, and she wasn’t prepared to give up that easily. “Mr. Feeney,” she said, moving forward to sit on the edge of her chair. “I’m a very hard worker. When I love something I give it one hundred percent, as I’m extremely committed. I’m a very capable person and what I don’t know now I am more than willing to learn so that I can do my best for myself, for you and for the company. If you put your trust in me, I promise I won’t let you down.” She stopped herself just short of getting down on her knees and begging for the damn job. Her face blushed as she realized what she had just done.

  “Well then, I think that’s a good note to finish on,” Mr. Feeney said, smiling at her. He stood up from his chair and held his hand out. “Thank you very much for taking the time to come down here. I’m sure we’ll be in touch.”

  Holly shook his hand and thanked him quietly, picked her bag up from the ground and felt his eyes burning into her back as she headed toward the door. Just before she stepped outside the door she turned back to face him. “Mr. Feeney, I’ll make sure your secretary brings you in a nice hot pot of tea. It’ll do you the world of good.” She smiled and closed the door to the sound of his loud laughter. The friendly secretary raised her eyebrows at Holly as she passed her desk, and the rest of the applicants held on to their portfolios tightly and wondered what the lady had said to make the interviewer laugh so loudly. Holly smiled to herself as she continued to hear Mr. Feeney laughing and made her way out into the fresh air.