Cecelia Ahern 2-Book Bestsellers Collection: One Hundred Names, PS I Love You. Cecelia Ahern
the night before last. She tapped her feet under the table with no particular rhythm, and then crossed her legs again. It was eleven thirty. She had the envelope on the table in front of her and she could almost see it sticking its tongue out and singing ‘Nah nah na-nah nah.’
She picked it up and ran her hands over it. Who would know if she opened it early? Sharon and John had probably forgotten there was even an envelope for May, and Denise was no doubt conked out after the stress of her two-day hangover. Holly could just as easily lie if they ever asked her, but then again they probably wouldn’t even care. No one would know and no one would care.
But that wasn’t true.
Gerry would know.
Each time Holly held the envelopes in her hand she felt a connection with Gerry. The last two times she’d opened them she’d felt as though Gerry were sitting right beside her and laughing at her reactions. She felt as if they were playing a game together, even though they were in two different worlds. But she could feel him, and he would know if she cheated, he would know if she disobeyed the rules of their game.
After another cup of coffee Holly was bouncing off the walls. The small hand of the clock seemed to be auditioning for a part in Baywatch with its slow-motion run around the dial, but eventually it struck midnight. Once again she slowly turned the envelope over and treasured every moment of the process. Gerry sat opposite her at the table. ‘Go on: open it!’
She carefully tore open the seal and ran her fingers along it, knowing the last thing that touched this was Gerry’s tongue. She slid the card out of its pouch and opened it.
Go on, disco diva! Face your fear of karaoke at Club Diva this month, and you never know, you might be rewarded …
PS. I love you …
She felt Gerry watching her and the corners of her lips lifted into a smile. 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