PS, I Love You. Cecelia Ahern
Your husband and best friend,
Gerry.
PS. I promised a list, so here it is. The following envelopes must be opened exactly when labelled and must be obeyed. And remember, I’m looking out for you, so I will know …
Holly broke down, sadness sweeping over her. Yet she felt relief at the same time; relief that Gerry would somehow continue to be with her for another little while. She leafed through the small white envelopes and searched through the months. It was April now. She had missed March so she delicately picked out the envelope. She opened it slowly, wanting to savour every moment. Inside was a small card with Gerry’s handwriting on it. It read:
Save yourself the bruises and buy a bedside lamp!
PS. I love you …
Her tears turned to laughter as she realised her Gerry was back!
Holly read and reread his letter over and over again in an attempt to summon him back to life. Eventually, when she could no longer see the words through her tears, she looked out to sea. She had always found the sea so calming, and even as a child she would run across the road to the beach if she was upset and needed to think. Her parents knew that when she went missing from the house they would find her here by the sea.
She closed her eyes and breathed in and out along with the gentle sighing of the waves. It was as though the sea was taking big deep breaths; pulling the water in while it inhaled and pushing it all back up onto the sand as it exhaled. She continued to breathe along with it and felt her pulse rate slow down as she became calmer. She thought about how she used to lie by Gerry’s side during his final days and listen to the sound of his breathing. She had been terrified to leave him, even to answer the door, to fix him some food or to go to the toilet, just in case that was the time he chose to leave her. When she would return to his bedside she would sit frozen in a terrified silence while she listened for his breathing and watched his chest for any movement.
But he’d always managed to hang on. He had baffled the doctors with his strength and determination to live; Gerry wasn’t prepared to go without a fight. He kept his good humour right up until the end. He was so weak and his voice so quiet, but Holly had learned to understand his new language as a mother does her babbling child just learning to talk. They would giggle together late into the night and other nights they would hold each other and cry. Holly remained strong for him. Throughout, her new job was to be there for him whenever he needed her. Looking back on it, she knew that she really needed him more than he needed her. She needed to be needed so she could feel that she wasn’t just standing idly by, utterly helpless.
On the second of February at four o’clock in the morning, Holly held Gerry’s hand tightly and smiled at him encouragingly as he took his last breath and closed his eyes. She didn’t want him to be afraid, and she didn’t want him to feel that she was afraid, because at that moment she wasn’t. She felt relief – relief that his pain was gone, and relief that she had been there with him to witness the peace of his passing. She felt relieved to have known him, to have loved him and to be loved by him, and relief that the last thing he saw was her face smiling down on him, encouraging him and assuring him it was OK to let go.
The days after that were a blur to her now. She had occupied herself by making the funeral arrangements and by meeting and greeting Gerry’s relatives and old school friends that she hadn’t seen for years. She remained so solid and calm through it all. She was just thankful that, after months, his suffering was over. It didn’t occur to her to feel the anger or bitterness that she felt now for the life that was taken away from her. That feeling didn’t arrive until she went to collect her husband’s death certificate.
And then that feeling made a grand appearance.
As she sat in the crowded waiting room of her local health clinic, waiting for her number to be called, she wondered why on earth Gerry’s number had been called so early in his life. She was sandwiched between a young couple and an elderly one – the picture of what she and Gerry had once been, and a glimpse of the future they could have had. And it all just seemed unfair. While the noise of screaming children was amplified in the room, Holly felt squashed between the shoulders of her past and her lost future, and she felt suffocated. She shouldn’t have to be there.
None of her friends had to be there.
None of her family had to be there.
In fact the majority of the population of the world didn’t have to be in the position she was in right then.
It didn’t seem fair.
Because it just wasn’t fair.
After presenting the official proof of her husband’s death to bank managers and insurance companies, as if the look on her face wasn’t proof enough, Holly returned home to her nest and locked herself away from the rest of the world that contained hundreds of memories of the life she had once had. The life she had been very happy with. So why had she been given another one, and a far worse one at that?
That was two months ago, and she hadn’t left the house until today. And what a welcome she had been given, she thought, smiling down at the envelopes. Gerry was back.
Holly could hardly contain her excitement as she furiously dialled Sharon’s number with trembling hands. After reaching a few wrong numbers she eventually calmed herself and concentrated on dialling correctly.
‘Sharon!’ she squealed as soon as the phone was picked up. ‘You’ll never guess what. Oh my God, I can’t believe it!’
‘Eh, no … it’s John, but I’ll get her for you now.’ A worried John rushed off to get Sharon.
‘What, what, what?’ panted a very out-of-breath Sharon. ‘What’s wrong? Are you OK?’
‘Yes, I’m fine!’ Holly started giggling hysterically, not knowing whether to laugh or cry and suddenly forgetting how to structure a sentence.
John watched as Sharon sat down at her kitchen table, looking very confused while she tried with all her strength to make sense of the rambling Holly. It was something about Mrs Kennedy giving Holly a brown envelope with a bedside lamp in it. It was all very worrying.
‘STOP!’ shouted Sharon, much to Holly and John’s surprise. ‘I cannot understand a word you are saying, so please,’ Sharon spoke very slowly, ‘slow down, take a deep breath and start from the very beginning, preferably using words from the English language.’
Suddenly she heard quiet sobs from the other end.
‘Oh, Sharon,’ Holly’s words were quiet and broken, ‘he wrote me a list. Gerry wrote me a list.’
Sharon froze in her chair while she digested this information.
John watched his wife’s eyes widen and he quickly pulled out a chair and sat next to her, shoving his head towards the telephone so he could hear what was going on.
‘OK, Holly, I want you to get over here as quickly but as safely as you can.’ Sharon paused again and swatted John’s head away as if he was a fly so she could concentrate on what she had just heard. ‘This is … great news?’
John stood up from the table, insulted, and began to pace the kitchen floor, trying to guess what the news could be.
‘Oh, it is, Sharon,’ sobbed Holly, ‘it really is.’
‘OK, make your way over here now and we can talk about it.’
‘OK.’
Sharon hung up the phone and sat in silence.
‘What? What is it?’ demanded John.
‘Oh, sorry, love. Holly’s on the way over. She … em … she said that eh …’
‘WHAT, for Christsake?’
‘She said that Gerry wrote her a list.’
John studied her face and tried